Fogbow

So I haven't been here an hour and SOMEBODY has already given me a shopping list, whilst she gets to schmooze with the parental unit.

That's OK, I had at least theoretical access to him for a few years before she met him. Although there were several times that he didn't know what state I lived in for a few years back there.

My alcoholic mom has been gone for a long time, so he and I (and ol' Wifehorn, of course) have become much, much closer.

I don't get along with any of my siblings, period. So the only thing I learn about any of them and their families are what my dad tells ol' Wifehorn. And today in the car on the way up here, I learned that of the 13 grandchildren (not including our 2), there are grandkids about whom he is eager to share the latest news, and there are grandkids who are possibly in some sort of grandparental purgatory, because he never, ever, ever mentions their names.

So ol' Wifehorn has fairly detailed information about some of our nieces and nephews, and no idea in the world what's going on with the others.

Family. I was lucky. My mom was a terrible mom, but she turned out to be a halfway decent grandmother, and we managed to become friends for the first and only time in our lives, a few years before she died from the alcoholism.

But people remembered when we were at war for all those years, and there was some SERIOUS fear that I would stand up in front of the church with 400 people at her funeral, that I might tell some of the stories ... and tell the truth.

'Course, when the time came, my dad had somebody else read his eulogy, because he was afraid he'd cry and wouldn't make it through.

My youngest sister, too. Somebody had to read hers.

So in the end, I was the ONLY member of her family who stood up at her funeral and said something good about her in front of those 400 people. And didn't even have to lie, I just skipped over the actual main story of her life. And whatever I said, my dad liked it so much he had me print it in a fancy font and frame it, and it's hanging on the wall in the room next to this one.

So the Capital Beltway is a little less visible in the spring and summer.

.
.
You can see it, right? Dead center (or so)?

The damn table for the new microwave isn't here yet. Shipping delays. If we can't finish the project by Monday morning my nephew will step up and do it.

Gonna be cookin' hot here today, and I don't have a gym class within 200 miles, so I will stroll in the steamer for a few ...

Thank you, Foggy. It's a privilege to know these stories.

Similar story (re your mom) with my Dad. I read Ozymandias.

Yeah, I get along with him better than ever. Remind me to tell you sometime about when he shut us out of the fambly for 5 years because my lying ass brother told him ol' Wifehorn was throwing darts at a photo of his wife (she never did that, of course). And Dad believed it because he didn't know her much. I'd like to see what would happen if my brother tried to say anything about her today.

Anyway, we're here to set up a tabletop microwave, so here ya go:

Before: .

After:
.

Microwave training class

I'll bet that's one appreciative dad!

He's a good egg who, like so many of us, was trapped in a world he never made.

And so, just as with my Mom, I have put the past in the rear vew mirror, and we've become friends as we travel the last stretch of the road ... his road, anyway. 'Course, if it wasn't for ol' Wifehorn I might not visit anywhere near as much. Those two are BFFs all the way home.

But I don't trust his wireless network to do my forum maintenance chores this morning, those will have to wait until Tuesday morning when I have the high speed network.

I'm now fully qualified to open a rolliter repair shop in Rawly, and my dad's rolliter is working much better.

Sadly, it's time to get packed and hit the road. See ya on the other side.

Foggy wrote: ↑Sun May 22, 2022 7:00 am He's a good egg who, like so many of us, was trapped in a world he never made.

And so, just as with my Mom, I have put the past in the rear vew mirror, and we've become friends as we travel the last stretch of the road ... his road, anyway. 'Course, if it wasn't for ol' Wifehorn I might not visit anywhere near as much. Those two are BFFs all the way home.

But I don't trust his wireless network to do my forum maintenance chores this morning, those will have to wait until Tuesday morning when I have the high speed network.

Your adventures and musings in Bathysphere are helpful in pondering my own relationship with my parents. And with myself.

I'm glad, P'girl.

It's a strange road right now, because my dad did a lot of shitty things to me, back in the past. Part of that was my alcoholic mom, she was a terror and I was the only child who stood up to her. She was a horrible mother but a halfway decent grandmother, and of course she inherited the alcoholism, same as I did. I can't ask anyone to forgive the damage I did if I can't forgive her first. Nobody on the planet chooses to be an alcoholic, it's not a pleasant life.

My dad wasn't alcoholic, but he listened to my mom and siblings when they told him stuff about me - some true, some not, of course - and then he'd do something mean. I have to let all that go, in order to move forward.

Story:

I got into Cornell University for summer school in 1976, and I left Bathysphere or wherever it is, stopping overnight at my grandma's house in Scranton on the way to Ithaca.

My best friend had been admitted to dental school, but he didn't have enough grants/loans, and he had asked if I could get my parents to loan him the money he needed. I had told him flatly, if my parents thought I had anything to do with it, he'd never get a nickel. No, in other words. Nyet.

So I leave town and get to grandma's that afternoon. She says, call your parents, you did something bad again and you're in BIG WHUPPY TROUBLE MISTER.

Oh shit, what is it this time?

"You told Stan we were going to loan him thousands of dollars to go to dental school."

"Are you high? Wasn't it just a little tiny clue that he told you that on THE DAY I LEFT TOWN? Of course I didn't tell him that, I told him you'd never give him a nickel."

"We believe him, not you. It was all your idea and we're not giving him anything, and you're an a>hole for sending your friends to sponge off of us."

Here's the good part: I call Stanley. "Dude, I told you to leave my parents out of it. Now they think it was my idea."

So Stanley calls them and admits that I told him not to call them and I had nothing to do with it. Totally admits he was lying to them.

So they loaned him the money. Tens of thousands of dollars, and since he was just lying about me being involved, why would that stop them? They knew he was a good guy. Other than when he was lying to my parents about me, that is. And heck, he paid back every penny, with interest.

But if I had anything to do with it, he'd never have finished dental school.

Good story, huh? I gotta get it out to let it go.

Yeah, this is where I am now. Getting ready for my aunt's interment.

How's traffic going to Arlington National Cemetery?

Foggy wrote: ↑Fri Jul 08, 2022 6:16 am Yeah, this is where I am now. Getting ready for my aunt's interment.

How's traffic going to Arlington National Cemetery?

Edit: Not bad, the goog says take Connecticut Ave. down to Rock Creek Parkway, which is a gorgeous drive travel at this time of year.

I hear a bunch of morons in big rigs have shut down the entire DC area.

I'll be sure to give you a full report, but they'll never find Rock Creek Parkway in a mazillion years.

So it was a beautiful service on a glorious July morn, and I was rather inordinately pleased with myself because we were due to arrive at 8:15 and ... 94 year old father in a brand new Zoomer and all ... dragging my old man out of bed at 6 in the morning and all ... I managed to get us to the front door of the Arlington National Cemetery administration center at precisely 8:15. Not 8:14, no sir, and not 8:16 either. Precisely 8:15, exactly as required. Don't try this at home, kids. This is military precision at the military cemetery.

And then we had a lovely reception here in Bathysphere or wherever it is, with 21 adults and 5 little kids, and it was good.

Tomorrow we decided to go to the Nationable Zoo, except it's supposed to rain like hell all night and day so we can't do that, and then somebody suggested we go to the Smithsonian Institute museums, but tomorrow is the Women's March and Day of Action, and we can't get my dad arrested at age 94, they won't give him all his medications in the jail so we can't do that either, and 26 people won't fit in the condo here, so I guess I'll just have to keep this run-on sentence going forever until it stops raining tomorrow afternoon and then we can decide what to do. Whew.

Mood: jinky

I thank you all for the hugs.

So yesterday was a really long day for my dad, although he had a great time surrounded by family, and an emotional time saying goodbye to his brother's wife (and visiting the gravesite of his brother), and a tragic time, after I sank all the stripes on him.

.
.

Hay, he was told to get a workout, and anyway who found the balls and racked them to get us started?

Today he gets a day of rest, but we'll take him to dinner in our nation's capital tonight with my cousins and their elk. Then hit the road bright and early mañana.

Foggy wrote: ↑Sat Jul 09, 2022 11:15 am Today he gets a day of rest, but we'll take him to dinner in our nation's capital tonight with my cousins and their elk. Then hit the road bright and early mañana.

Call ahead and make sure one of the legislator supremes doesn't have reservations for the same time.

Ah, we outsmarted them.

My cousin Margo says the restaurant in their hotel is very nice.

Let's see the swamp supremes find us there.

My cousin Margo was named Mary when we attended the same high school. Her boyfriend was my best friend, and the three of us spent a ton of time together. She became an artist, hence the name change.

She and her husband are Buddhists, and they live in upstate Noo Yawk. Why do they live in upstate Noo Yawk? Because their spiritual guru had a break with the Buddhists in Bend, Oregon when they lived there, and he moved to upstate Noo Yawk, and they were retired, and they like him, so they followed him.

They live somewhere near a little town with 350 people in it, but they don't live in the town, Margo says. They live on a dirt road a few miles from the town. But hey, my cousin is a happy woman and it's great to see her.

Nice!

Yeah, and my niece Mary (ring girl at our wedding) is demanding that I write up the whole story of my summer at the nude beach on the Russian River in 1973.



And there maybe might could be a sort of reconciliation with her mother, my sister Ellen. Ellen hasn't spoken to me in 14 years, but she was devastated that I left the party without saying goodbye to her.

So Mary and her sister Isabelle came up to my dad's place and dragged me out to the parking lot to give her a hug.

Earthlings are so weird.

Foggy wrote: ↑Sat Jul 09, 2022 11:15 am Today he gets a day of rest, but we'll take him to dinner in our nation's capital tonight with my cousins and their elk.

Maybe you can swing by the National Mall and let him hang out with Patriots for a bit?

Umm ... no.

Whoa, apparently I'm back up here. The underlying mission this trip: Locate my dad's Dremel tool. Too also, check on progress with the new optic cable wifi. I also have questions about the distant past, those will wait. Return ticket says 7:30 a.m. Sunday.