My Family

[Greg_phpbb3_import1]

Should that be Kiss Ass? Or are you playing on the fact of more infidelity by Tiger Woods?

[Drunk Monk]

um...so Greg...about those potstickers....we went by the buffet for lunch today. They did have some. I hope you are okay with frog leg filling. I mean srsly. Does anyone care what kind of meat is actually in a potsticker? They are like Chinese McNuggets, right?

:oops:

[Greg_phpbb3_import1]

My father is stepping up his skin cancer game. No more of this benign stuff for him. He's gone full melanoma. I don't have enough time in the day to enumerate my mother's problems.

[Greg_phpbb3_import1]

In some fit of madness led by my father complaining, I got him a new cel phone. It's always a dicey proposition getting the oldy oldsters new technology since if you screw something up, you never here the end of it. (On the flip side, I saw a note on Facebook that said "Stop complaining when you help me with the computer, I had to show you how to use a spoon")

So, I wade in. I'm running the boost mobile website form. My father walks in just when I learn that they won't transfer my father's old number to the new phone. I blame ATT for being dicks about sharing. Well, I think I'm done. My father won't want to go through the hassle of telling people he has a new number. He wants the simple solution. He keeps asking if he can just swap out his SIM card to make that happen. Yeah, no.

At this point, I'm packing up the new phone and preparing to ship it back. That would be the easiest. Nope, my father wants to go through the with the upgrade. I've made the rookie mistake of relinquishing the computer chair. Now he as the controls and it's not good. I try to explain that it would be much faster if he just let me finish, but again, no.

I stand behind him pointing out the buttons he should push and the forms to fill out. We get to the point finally that the activation screen comes on. We get the message it will take a couple of minutes. After thirty seconds my father says it is taking to long. Several minutes later the screen times out. It gives a code to write down and come back later to find out about the activation. I'm getting ready to write it down, when the screen goes back to the main start screen. My father says he did nothing, but his hand was on the mouse at the time.

So, starting the process over as soon as he gets out of the chair.

[Greg]

Every time I return to the Saratoga nest, I am reminded of the movie Shock Corridor. If you haven't seen it, I suggest you do it.

It's a pulp film from the 1950's directed by Sam Fuller. It's a bout a reporter who goes undercover at a mental institution to find out how a patient was murdered. The reporter feigns mental illness a bit too believably so he is subjected to all sorts of procedures including electro shock in order to cure him. Plus, all the instability in the minds of the people around him are starting to wear on him.

That's the part that gets me. The instability that is eroding the reporters own stability.

There is a lot of instability here in Saratoga. For two weeks, I told my parents I was coming. I asked my sister to verify that they knew I was coming. She said they knew.

The first words out of my father's mouth were 'I didn't expect you'


Eroding.

[Drunk Monk]

Good hover.  Hopefully some martial madness will wipe all your erosion away.

[cranefly]

Hopefully Saratoga has an attack by nymphomaniacs in store for you as a silver lining in all this.

[Greg]

There is just no way to ease into this so I'll just say it. I found nude pictures of my mother and her friends today. I have no idea what my mom and her friends were doing in the ballroom. But there isn't enough bleach in the world to cleanse my eyes and brain.

Maybe I won't dig through old photos anymore . . . .

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

Time for Fire, Greg, Fire. Burn it all down and walk away.

[Drunk Monk]

I'm traumatized just reading that post. Seek professional help, Greg.

[cranefly]

eek

!?

[Greg]

I'm sitting at the table working. My mother descends from her chamber. She pushes her walker across the kitchen floor to glare at me. She stands in the doorway telling me she has a terrible cold due to my inexcusable behavior. I had left the window open in my bedroom and cold air had blown over her all night long. She was sick and it was my fault.

To be fair, the door to my room was closed all night. And, as a matter of fact, so was the door to her room. Yes, I did leave the door to my room open when I went out for a walk at 4am, but her door was still closed. It was also 90 degrees here yesterday. It probably dipped down into the sixties over night.

I guess my father was supposed to tell me to close the windows and he did not do this.

What I'm getting at is my mother is crazy.

[King Bob]

I think you meant to write "still crazy"

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

+1 for King Bob

[Greg]

Even across oceans and continents my mother reaches out to prove her instability and her skewed world view.

My father was twisted up about the cross country trip, so I made it a point to email him daily to tell him I was alive. Going to Hungary? Meh. Have a good time.

Anyway, I'm about a week in when I feel I should send him a note and a photo to inform him that I'm still among the living. (Although if these stomach cramps keep up)

I just got a note back from from my mother, via my father. She says she loves the picture that shows me working as a 'writer' in Hungary.

Um.........