Louie

May 24, 2007

I see hand sanitizer all over the place now.  People are fanatically clean these days.  Times have changed since I was a kid.  We never really thought about that kind of stuff when I was young. 

Don’t get me wrong, we had to wash our hands before we ate.  We had to take our bath.  Occasionally an aunt or someone (usually Southern) would make a comment about being able to “grow taters in those ears” to one of my male relatives.  But hand sanitizer in travel sized bottles?  *giggle*  Not hardly. 

As a matter of fact, I had an older cousin whose mother kept him so clean when he was young that he got sick.  His doctor finally told his mom that she had to let him go outside and get dirty.  She was not to clean him up!  He was to get dirty and stay that way until evening and only then was she to bathe him!  It was excruciatingly hard on her, but she did it for his sake.  He got better….physically.  Funny thing, he ended up crazy as a bed bug.  But that is neither here nor there.  (Yes, it does run in the family, smart aleck!)

My grandson, Buddha, used to be such a neat freak that when I gave him a sloppy joe for lunch he couldn’t eat it!  He would pick it up, get sauce on his hand, put it down, wipe off his hand, pick it up, get sauce on his hand, put it down, …….you get the idea.  Finally, I took pity on the poor little thing, cut it up and gave him a spoon.  Sheesh! (Now, he could grow taters in those ears *wink*)

When I was coming up, those things never came into consideration.  If they had, we would have never eaten a Louie burger.  At this point it is my duty to warn any of you with a weak stomach not to read further.  Mom, this means you. 

Louie lived and worked next door to the service station that my dad was part owner of.  We would go down to “help” dad at the station and he would send us next door for a burger.  Louie and his wife, I never knew her name, lived and worked at their house.  Louie cooked burgers on the stove in his kitchen.  They were GREAT burgers.  They were locally famous.  Everyone went to Louie’s for a burger on a regular basis.  This was good because at some point Louie apparently had a stroke or something and this is how Louie and his wife made their living.  His wife would take the orders, give them to Louie, who would shuffle back to the kitchen and cook them, and his wife would chat with you up front until he shuffled back with your greasy bag.  Louie couldn’t talk.  His wife knew what he meant when he made his noises, but no one else did.  She would tell you Louie said thank you and come back again.  I used to wonder if Louie was actually saying something that ended in “and the horse you rode in on”, but who could tell? 

The reason I believe that Louie had a stroke is that Louie shuffled when he walked and he had this other little thing that he did that was kinda telling.  He drooled.  Yeah, I know, right?  Louie probably kept the handkerchief people in business because I never one time in my whole life ever saw Louie without one.  He held them up to his chin to catch the drool.  But the handkerchiefs were never wet.  It was Louie that cooked.  Not Mrs. Louie.  Louie cooked.  Hopefully with one hand. 

Weren’t no hand sanitizer going on in Louie’s kitchen, I can tell you that.  And no one ever thought one thing about it.  It makes my mom gag when we talk about it now.  Louie and his wife wouldn’t have a prayer of making a living on their own now.  They’d have to depend on Social Security and Alpo now-days.  But back then, they were independent and self sufficient.  Proud people with a product to sell that people wanted and liked.

Maybe it was the drool that made Louie’s burgers taste so good?

OK, I’ll stop.  My mom says I take this one too far. 

We didn’t have flesh eating virus in those days.  Or Ebola.  And if we did, it was very well contained.  We didn’t have AIDS, or Hanta Virus or HIV, or any of the new stuff that’s come along lately.  There weren’t as many people in the world back then and mother nature wasn’t trying so hard to thin the herd. 

We had stronger immune systems then.  And the generation before us had even stronger ones.  But, I digress.

I probably wouldn’t buy a burger from Louie today.  But not for the reason you might think.  It would just be too creepy to buy a burger from a 160 year old guy who’s too dried out to drool but who keeps on holding that dang old white handkerchief under his chin!  Yuck!

Note to self:  Nice girls don’t blog after they’ve taken their meds!  Think about it!


Tacky Behavior On The Part Of People Who Should Know Better.

May 15, 2007

I have recently been subjected to , and by extension subjected a dear friend to, Tacky Behavior On The Part Of People Who Should Know Better.  Now, I have been around this kind of trashy behavior all my life and I’m tired of putting up with it. 

In my younger more feisty days I would have put the gloves on and gone hunting down the offending trashites, looking for some much deserved justice out of their persons in some shape or manor, preferably involving bruising.  However, as I am older and slightly calmer now, I will wait for a bit, let things settle down , and find the right time for the information to come out.

You see, I myself take part of the blame for this trailer-park tinged behavior.  I accepted an invitation from a secondhand person to an event.  And since my radar isn’t in proper working order anymore, I completely missed the significance of that little faux pas.  However,  knowing the inviter like I do, I had to believe that it was ok to accept, as he has always been one of the most considerate and honorable men I know.  Therefore, when I was asked to invite a friend, I had no qualms about inviting a very, very good friend who is tenderhearted and a LOT of fun to be around.  We would go together, meet the rest of the group, and have a rip roarin good time at a few slightly raunchy places, thereby having stories to tell the grand-kids later that would make them blush and look at us in new and exciting ways!  It would all be good.

NOT!  We were excluded from the beginning.  It was rude to the point of ruthlessness.  It would have been kinder to have just told us after dinner that we wouldn’t be included in the rest of the festivities planned for the evening and so thank you for coming to the dinner and we’ll see you at the wedding.   Instead we were to follow the other two cars to a hotel and join them in a room that had been reserved.  We were out of the car and following them across the parking lot when they hit the door.  As we got to the door maybe ten feet behind them, we found it remarkable that the fifty feet across the lobby was entirely empty of the approximately 10 women who had just entered in front of us.  They were very swift of feet!  We also found that the door required a key card to open and we didn’t have one.  So we proceeded around to the front and inquired at the front desk as to whether they had a room in either of the names we knew.  She informed us that she couldn’t help us.  Not that there were no rooms in that name, but that she couldn’t help us. 

We spent a good fifteen minutes walking through the ground floor hall trying to see if we could hear a bunch of white trash bitches honking off behind any of the doors, but no such luck.  So, now having to admit that we had been deliberately ditched by this marvelous bunch of common hos, we have a few hours to kill.  We are both nearly speechless.  I mean seriously, how many times after you get out of the sixth grade do you honestly have to consider things like this happening to you? 

So we found a couple of ways to spend our time and then went home.  It was kinda sad.  It was even more sad the next day when again I saw two of the girls in the group and watched as they caught sight of me, turned to each other and began to giggle and laugh uproariously with each other. 

It makes me wonder about the kind of people who think that hurting people for sport is a good thing.  I wonder what kind of things they tell themselves to make it ok to hurt someone’s feelings just for fun.  I wonder what they say inside of themselves when they are choosing the next person to cause pain to, is there some certain trait that they are looking for?  Or is it just the next unfortunate person who comes into their sight?  I don’t understand how one goes about telling themselves that they have soooo many people just waiting in line to be their lifelong friend, that they can afford to callously toss good people aside like garbage and laugh about it. 

Like I said at the beginning of this whole thing, I’ve been around this kind of common, trashy, unraised, behavior all my life.  I’ve seen it a million times.  It comes from not being raised right in the beginning, then being too lazy to make sure that you choose to act right when it’s your turn to call the shots.  It’s just easier to roll on back to those less than humane beginnings . 

I have accepted my part in the hurt caused to my friend.  I have apologized to her several times.  If my brain was in proper working order my red flags would have been dancing the macarena at me over that invitation and I would have known better than to accept.  I was trying to help celebrate a new beginning for friends.   My friend was only there because I asked her to come with me.  It was my disability that caused her pain and for my part in that I am deeply sorry and ashamed.

Now let’s add to the entertainment by adding that the main person at the previous event managed to top off the event the following evening by hurting the feelings of an eight year old girl by popping off at the mouth to her at the end of a very long evening when said eight year old girl went to tell her that she was leaving. 

I am no longer surprised by the stupidity of people or the incredibly stupid things they do to hurt people for no good reason.  I see it and I feel it all the time.  It just makes me terribly, terribly sad.  I hope that they accomplished whatever it was they were planning to do by excluding us, and I hope it was worth the cost. 

Because (to quote myself) I’ve managed to live my entire life without them in it, and I’ll manage quite well to live the rest of it without them in it as well, and never really notice the difference at all. 

My friend is owed a huge apology.  A heartfelt apology.  I hope she gets one.

As for me, I am neither owed an apology, nor will I accept one.  I am done.


Where’s My Rubber Chicken?

May 8, 2007

It’s Buddha’s birthday today.  He is twelve.  Criminy, how did he get this age so fast?  Have we changed kids to dog years now?  He put us on a “money diet” about a month ago so we could prepare for this momentous day.  Told us we had to “slim down our budget” so that he could get more presents.  He’s a lil corker, that one.  This has nothing to do with the title of this blog, I just had to toss that one in.

One of my kids will invariably come to me at least once a week (there are three of them, I think they draw straws and take turns at this) and say, “Ma, it hurts when I do this:” and then proceed to make some kind of unholy, improbable gyration.  My response is always, “Where is my rubber chicken?  Then don’t DO that!”  And I make like I’m hitting them on the head with the invisible rubber chicken.  Well…….(insert maniacal laugh here) I bought a ……wait for it…….RUBBER CHICKEN at Eckerd’s Drug Store on Sunday!  That’s right, folks.  I am now the proud owner of a brand new rubber chicken!  Oh the joy I felt in my heart at the sight of that little ol box just chock full of rubber chickens!  The heavens opened up, a beam of pure heavenly light fell upon it, and the choir of angels began to sing!  A real live rubber chicken!  In all my days I never thought to really own one of my own!  I snatched that bad boy up before anyone could stop me and nearly ran to the checkout counter to pay for it.  Then, I took it to My Dearest Husband’s cousin, Turtle Neck’s, birthday party.  Heh. 

Oh My God!  If I had not been there myself, I would never have believed that it was possible to come up with three solid hours of cock jokes.  But we did.  Luckily we all have very low humor thresholds.  Doesn’t matter what it is, we can find a way to laugh at it.  (If you have a sensitive bone in your body it won’t be good for you to attend a family funeral with us.)

Every person there, adults and children alike, played with my cock.  Technically it’s not a cock, but like I said, we have a low humor threshold.  We choked the chicken.  The kids tossed my cock around the yard.  My Dearest Husband hit Possum’s friend Bubbles in the face with my cock. 

Birdie, my only natural child and the mother of Buddha and Bella, was half mad at me and half jealous when I told her I had it.  She said that her boyfriend is really afraid of looking forward to meeting me, because he wants to know where she gets her crazy unique way of looking at things.  First thing she said when I told her I had it was this:  Where’s my rubber chicken?  Then don’t DO that!!!   HAHAHA 

It was almost as good as the time the Pillsbury Dough-boy died.  Well, the voice of him did.  We did jokes all damn day.  We speculated all day about whether he committed suicide by sticking his head in the oven, or if he died of a yeast infection.  We thought we should send flour to his family.  We thought maybe we could bring about a miracle by putting him in a warm draft free place, placing a dishtowel over him, and seeing if maybe he would rise. 

*sigh*  Good times, Good times.


Youth Deficiency

April 17, 2007

I suffer from a terrible, terrible disorder.  It affects millions of people the world over.  Sadly there is no cure.  *sob*

This horrible malady causes a melting effect of the face that is frightening to little children and disheartening to the sufferers.  It leaches all color out of the hair, and causes an extreme overgrowth of the skin that creates a sagging effect on the body of the afflicted.

Strange lines and grooves appear in the faces, hands, arms, even……yes, even the legs of these poor, poor individuals.  Tiny dark spots show up out of nowhere.  They bend over as if weighted down.  Yet no weight shows up on any photograph or scientific test.

But the most debilitating of all of the symptoms of this terrible disease are the mental ones.  Imagine putting on your glasses to hunt for your glasses because you can’t see to look for your glasses without your glasses on!  Oh!  How horrible! 

Try, if you only can, to imagine burning the hair in your nose because you tried to light a cigarette that you forgot to put in your mouth!  *gasp*

Sad……so sad.  😦

Imagine going to a fast food drive thru, taking your false teeth out and wrapping them in a napkin while you eat, then tossing them out with the trash.  *sigh*

This malady is the scourge of millions worldwide.  It has no cure.  Send no money.  There is nothing we can do but cry.

Youth Deficiency!  Damn You!  Damn You!  Da  Hey Look!  I found my hair brush!  I’ve been looking for that!………Uh…… What was I saying? 


Brothers

March 19, 2007

I have three brothers.  One older and two younger.  I love my brothers.  Don’t get me wrong.  We fought like cats and dogs when we were coming up.  If there was a mean thing that could be done, we did it to each other.  As the only girl, I learned to be fast and mean.  I will never be able to thank them enough for that!  The lessons I learned have served me well in my life. 

There is a strength you get from brothers that stands in the background of your life.  It gets embedded in your psyche in infancy and it never goes away.  You know throughout your life in every bad situation that comes about, that all you have to do is make a call and you have backup.  Even if you don’t use it, you know it’s there.  There is a strength in that knowledge that will get you through even the toughest situations.

If you have brothers you are never alone.  If you have brothers you are never weak.  If you have brothers you will never be homeless.  If you have brothers you will never starve.  If you have brothers you will always be understood.  If you have brothers you will always have support. 

On the other hand if you have brothers you will always be dogged out when you cry.  When you have brothers you will be teased if you don’t keep up.  If you have brothers you will get your hair pulled.  If you have brothers you will get skinned knees. 

If you have brothers you will have the best forts EVER!  If you have brothers you will have the best friends ever.  If you have brothers you will have the best prom dates ever.  If you have brothers you will have ……… brothers!

Brothers rules!  I wouldn’t trade my brothers for anything.  They each have something that I need.  They each have something that no one else on the face of the earth could give me.  I need each one of them.  I always have. They are as different as any three random people on the street.  And yet they are the same.  They surround me in my heart and in my mind every day.  They are a major part of the foundation that I am built on.  Without my brothers I would be less than I am.  With them I am limitless.

In loving memory of Norman Edward Haus… My Brother… Always

Not in my sight but always in my heart, mind and soul.