They call it puppy love....I guess my whole life I've been a dog person, not that I don't like cats, even had one. Didn't work out, ended for us one day when she decided to join us on my guest recliner one night while the whole family was gathered together watching a movie. It was really cute the way she hopped up on the chair did that turn around thing that cats do, you know where they bend completely in half, looks like one cat leaving and one cat coming. Cats are graceful, their moves are smooth and cool unlike dogs that are clumsy and manic, more like me, guess that's why I identify with them.
She sat like a sphinx looking at the TV like she was watching the movie, then her gaze moved to us, she looked down the couch at each person then the next, finally to me sitting in the bookend green recliner on the opposite side of the room. Our eyes met, we had a connection, on some level I was melding with this creature, we were having a moment. She sat up suddenly, never breaking eye contact, she leaned forward and I saw her tail stiffen, my expression changed from a sappy, coffee commercial grin to a look of wonder and denial. My eyebrows curled and my lips pursed as I had the realization of what was actually happening here. The cats chin raised in the air as I saw that look of relief on her face. My mouth fell open as this animal's own pulled up in the corners and I saw the face I had imagined in my head when my Mom read to me about the Cheshire cat in “Alice in Wonderland”.
“Is that cat doing what I think its doing!?” I yelled across the room, more at the cat than to anyone else. Like a Robert Palmer video, all heads in the room turned in unison from the TV to the cat on their right. Immediately, Chelsea released a knee jerk “Awwwww” that morphed into “Awwmmmgoddddd!!” Dotty did a Rodney Dangerfield double take, followed by a high pitched squeal. Shea's hands covered his mouth as his eyes popped wide in disbelief. Jimmy broke into a spontaneous bark of a laugh followed by a tapering chuckle with his right hand grabbing his chin.
This animal was pissing on my beautiful recliner, albeit the obstructed view seat, set off at the end of the couch, facing in to the room with the flat-screen to the right. It was the matching bookend to my throne. I thought of it as the deputy capital. I was planning on swapping them out every 6 months keeping the wear even, kind of like rotating tires on the caddy.
But that was all fading as the realization of what this feline intruder was doing to my property. I don't think I've ever really seen a cat piss before , let alone have I ever timed it but, this was epic. This thing had saved this up. Pushed herself through then pain of an overfilled bladder. Must have drank for 10 straight minutes to have that much liquid in store. I leaped up from my chair, well that's how my mind's eye remembers it, I'm sure it was much less graceful and filled with a lot of grunts and the occasional wheeze.
As I walked the 7 feet from one end of the couch to the other, I saw her squeezing out the last of her foul juice. I could see it like a chemical runoff stream running down the seat of the chair and disappearing into the crack where it meets the back. She looked up at me as I stood over her and gave me a half hearted “meeeeeooueerrr” I raised my right hand high in the air as a baritone growl started deep in my diaphragm. It knew I wasn't happy and it made a hasty retreat to the railing on the stairs and around the corner to the boys room to hide amongst the rubble of dirty clothes and other assorted clutter strewn about. I ranted for at least 15 minutes as I flipped the chair over and attacked the polluted stream with Lysol, ammonia, fabreeze and several rolls of paper towels.
The whole time my trusted buddy, Bear, our giant Golden Retriever was lying on the floor facing us watching us watch the TV as well as the events that were unfolding in front of him. I heard him sigh when she came in the room as if he knew the quiet family moment was about to end, in his head he was saying to himself “Here we go.....”
My Bear is a unique animal, living here I would expect no less. He is a Golden Retriever thus making him a water-dog. Long before “Marley and Me” was even made, my bear was running straight through my Mom and Dads house, out their back door and into the lake. Nonstop, no passing go, no collecting $200, directly to the lake. He has his perch on the steps in my pool.
Everyday in the summer, its the same routine. He wakes up at around 11am comes downstairs from under my bed where he squeezes his giant ass under every night. He stomps when he walks so I never know if its him or Dotty coming down the stairs . He greets me first, rubbing his nose under my wrist and flips my hand on top of his head. I give him a scratch and slide my hand around to under his chin and give him a good rub. He just loves that. I ask him if he wants to go out and his front paws lift off the ground and he changes directions while they are airborne.
He shuffles to the sliding door in the kitchen as I repeat every morning, “Get the squirrel buddy get the squirrel!!” His ass bumps in the air and he puts his face close to the ground as his tail wags frantically from side to side. I slide the door open and when just enough room is available he charges forward and squeezes his huge body through the opening. Off he bolts looking for the furry bastards, darting left and right, looking like Belushi in Animal House. I love watching the routine as I sip my morning brew.
He does his business, which reminds me its been a few days since I've grabbed a shovel, and then directly to the pool. First he sits of the deck and puts his front paws in the pool on the first step. He does this for about 10 minutes, then he jumps in, swims to the middle and then returns to the steps. He sits on the second and third with his head out the water for next 20 minutes to two hours.
Since the kids got older its Bear and I's pool we are the only ones that use it daily. Me for therapy on the old knee and Bear, well that's just his spot. The only problem with Bear's water-sports is he likes to get out wet and go lay under the deck which is mostly that sandy, black south jersey dirt. It sticks to him everywhere and the only way to get it off is to once again jump in the pool.
This makes Dotty, the pool Nazi, crazy. She has her morning rituals as well which is always someway connected to the pool. She vacuums it, shocks it, maintains it really. I swim in it. We had to stack up all kinds of stuff to keep him from being able to get under the deck. Lounge chairs, playground balls, resin lawn furniture, at first glance it looks like a tornado hit my yard. But its just keeping my boy clean.
My Bear is always under my feet, he thinks he's a lap dog but weighs about 120lbs. He's afraid of almost everything, lightning, thunder, fireworks, my Dolby 5.1 all the usual dog stuff. But this dog is afraid of string. If I lay a 2x4 down on the ground he won't step over it. If his tennis ball rolls too close to his arch nemesis the red rug he won't do anything but stare at it with the occasional whine. He loves to be near me, to touch me to hang out and play with me. Nobody, not my wife, not my kids, not my parents want to spend as much time with me as he does. He truly is this mans best friend.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Isabella Arrives
Last week we had an addition to the family, my granddaughter Isabella was born on Tuesday July 29, 2010 at 11:26am. A whopping 20” long and weighed in at 7lbs. 4Oz ! Quite a feat considering that our Ellen is only 5' on a bad hair day and had to be 7 months plus to break into the third digit. It was an amazing day in all our lives, that I will remember for the rest of mine.
From the moment my daughter told me she was pregnant I knew it was Izzi, Ellen looked a little different this time, she looked excited and tired at the same time. I thought this was the first trimester drag at first but when I saw her open the refrigerator for the 5th time in 10 minutes, rip open a bag of greener select and fill her face with baby arugula and several other assorted sprigs of green, she was having a girl. She lost her appetite immediately with Gavyn, we used to have to make her eat.
Ellen has always been a picky eater, she had a total repulsion toward cheese as a child, with actual goosebumps on her arms over the very though of eating it. Rolls were always a source of a giggle in our house because my daughter would snatch off half a roll, eat it and maybe an hour later come back and rip a second roll in half, leaving the original wounded soldier in the bag off to the side to be picked over and moved around until it was the only thing left except of course for the other halves of rolls Ellen had made. I'm sure its some sort of an OCD thing but as long as its just rolls and so far we haven't found any half cats or anything so I think its more of a quirk than a disorder...and god knows we all have quirks, I make a living off of mine!
Well anyway, back to lil' Izzi. She was scheduled to arrive on the June 29. Ellen had to have a C-section with Gavyn and was told that would be the plan this time as well. Chelsea slept over Ellen and Eric's to watch Gavyn and his puppy Maggie the next morning while they went and checked in at the hospital. Dotty and I headed over at 8:30am and met Eric's parents, Paul and Debbie, with Deb's sister Peggy in the lobby.
They were buzzing with nervous energy just like us but they had a little extra juice because of a confrontation with the “woman at the desk” just moments before. These two blonde cougars are used to getting their way, especially when they are side by side tilting their heads and showing a lot of straight white teeth. Their voices jump an octave in pitch as they speak one at a time with the second nodding and encouraging agreement. But the “woman at the desk” would have none of it, she was immune to their charms. She could care less, she had seen and heard it all. She would allow Deb to come up but Deb alone. No Peggy! But...! No Peggy....Grandmothers only....but....No!
Dot was fine with that because after all she was one of the grandmothers and was included in the holders of the golden ticket that got you through the wall of senior citizen volunteers lurking at every corner asking to see a pass, we need to put these people to work in the airports, nobody gets by, nobody, no pass no entry!
I saw a young guy about 17 trying to get in and was denied entry after about 5 minutes he told them he needed to use the mensroom which was on the other side of the gate in the no man's land land between the desk and the elevators. He walked around the corner and right past the mensroom door he was making a break for the elevator, in my heart I hoped he made it...but the suppressed silence of the lobby was interrupted by the crackle of walkies-talkie static, “we got a runner” and within seconds liver spotted people appeared from everywhere. They stepped out from behind huge potted plants, one from under the dinner tray cart and some from doors that weren't there a moment before, wearing sunglasses over their regular glasses and talking into their wrists. “We have him secured”
While all the commotion was going on, Paul and I approached the “woman at the desk” “we're the grandfathers can we go up?” “Are you part of the support team?” she asked. We looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, nodded and turned back to the “woman at the desk” and replied with as much confidence as we could muster “Yes?” She twisted her lips and lowered her eyebrows, “ I highly doubt that” “Have a seat I'll let you know when you can go up” she answered. “but we're the Pop pops!” both of us doing our most charming looks, trying to send out as much mojo as humanly possible. “have a seat” she was unmovable.
At about 12:10 they finally gave us the signal, a smile and a nod was delivered from across the room to the group that had convened in the lobby. By now it had grown to 9 people. Paul and I, Chelsea, and Gavyn, my Mom and Dad, my sister Dawn and Maddie, Peggy, Eric's brother Nick and his girl Abby. We charged the desk like they were giving away ipods. Everyone's hands extended out waiting to feel the illusive plastic jacket of that winning lottery ticket, they key to the inner sanctum, the most holy of holys...the pass to the 4th floor...maternity.
They gave us all passes! Every single one of us! We were in now, we were part of an exclusive club, we were maternity visitors! Baby celebrators! Free rein of the hospital, they wanted people to see us. We were good press, positive emotions in an otherwise dreary place. I could have sat in on a surgery if I wanted this was cool.
Baby Isabella was here, just upstairs and down a hallway my little granddaughter was waiting to meet me, it was the longest elevator ride of my life and when the doors opened that 8 foot section of hallway stretched away from me like something from a Stanley Kubrick film. We got to see Ellen first which is the way I wanted it, to make sure my baby was okay before I greeted the new woman in my life.
Ellen was beaming and radiant, exhausted and beautiful. I was so proud and in awe of this woman, I really can't express it fully through words. She was being seen by her doctor who was complimenting the tone of her body and how well she will heal because of her being in such great shape. She bought a treadmill the day after she was told she was pregnant and did several miles a day. She reached out her arms and I kissed her a dozen times all over her face. I couldn't hold back my gush of emotion as tears of joy and relief streamed down my face. My baby was good, better than good, she was great.
My little one wouldn't be in my arms until hours later when I had returned from eating lunch at the Colonial Diner with my Mom and Dad, Chelsea and Dot. The nurse had brought her in the room. I waited my turn, patient, excited she was here and would be for good. Finally after Dot had her for a few minutes she was passed to me. I held her in my one hand, this tiny person in my care. I had grown that day, I had to, if not I would have burst open, I was that happy! She was beautiful! She was here...
PEE PEE IN THE POOL
Al Gore warned us! Its happening right now, as we speak. Global warming has made it to Pitman New Jersey! This heatwave following the harshest winter in decades makes me think maybe Gore did invent the internet. Its friggin hot!
I would jump in my pool but of course I invited the neighbor kids to jump in and cool off yesterday, with the sign plainly displayed on the fence two feet from the pool pleading for them not to pee in the pool, I saw each and everyone of them make the face. Yes the pee pee face, every one of them! I gave them a scowl and they all just looked at me, smiled and said, “whaaaat?” You better not be doing what I think you're doing!” “whaaaaaaaaaat????????” they squealed.
I saw the boy in the group raise and lower his eyebrows three times, I knew that look; I had made the same look many times myself, usually at halftime of an Eagles game when the score is close. Two full quarters worth of relief, second best feeling in the world. I really didn't want to continue the volleyball game of questions answered by questions so I shook my head and went back into my air conditioned cave.
The rule was they could swim if one of their parents would stand watch, I was in no mood to play lifeguard. So the neighbor's son's girlfriend sat on their porch and watched the kids in my pool not 10 feet away. She was not happy about it and sat with a sour face that made her look like a mean third-grader, you know, that girl that would beat up the boys and who was only happy and laughed when she was inflicting pain and punishment on somebody. I could hear her snapping at them as I slid my patio door shut and sealed out the heat and chaos.
After about the better part of an hour I was sitting in my recliner and writing some comedy material on my laptop with some obscure program playing on the TV in the background. I heard my door slide open and my Golden Retriever Bear awoke from his summer slumber and lifted his head with a half hearted “wuff”.
The four of them, dripping wet and pissed off I hadn't heard them knocking. They marched through my kitchen and into my dining room. “We bin knockin!!!” hands on hips the 6 year old snapped at me. “Sorry Guys I didn't hear you, I was working.” “that's how you work????” The 11 year old said as she twisted up her face and stared in disbelief. “Who pays you to do THAT????” I stared at her with a blank expression, said nothing for almost an entire minute, it took at least 45 seconds for her to appear the least bit uncomfortable, the two 10 year olds in the back just remained silent and watched on like they were spectators at a bull fight not really sure which side to be on.
Finally, she broke away from my stair and the little one said in a frail voice, “we wanna go home”. I looked down at their feet and saw the small pond that had developed from their dripping bodies. “OK guys, did you leave any water in the pool?” The 6 year old was picking up on the sarcasm and didn't appreciate it one bit. “YESSSSSssssss” she said with a heavy sigh, “you're silly” she was obviously the speaker of the group.
She turned her head, looked back to the others and nodded it toward the door, “Lets go” she rolled her eyes and jerked her head towards me as if to say to the other “ppppfffftttt, this guy” they marched out the front door still dripping and leaving a trail of droplets across my floor and out the door as the door was shutting I heard the little one say almost like a song, “You need to clean your pool, the water turned green!!!”
It made me stop typing, the water was crystal clear, we had just algaecided, chlorinated, stabilized and clarified the damn thing, cost over $50 in chemicals to get it that way. I closed my laptop, de-reclined from my chair and shuffled my slippered feet to the patio door. I stood there, in disbelief as I stared at what looked like a retention pond off of Bartram Ave in Philly. The water was an unfamiliar shade of blue-green, with what appeared to be a fine white mist about a foot below the surface. The steps disappeared into the murk after the third step, the center drain was impossible to see.
How could they have done this in such a short time. How much asparagus could they have eaten that would turn their urine into this horrid pollutant? I looked at my deliciously refreshing oasis in the middle of Pitman, it was now something that I could blame on BP. I had shocked my pool many times, this was the first time it shocked me.
As I turned away from the 18,000 gallon urinal in my yard I saw Dotty standing in her bathing suit, inside the sliding glass door. Her arms were folding in an angry pose, her eyes tightened and her lips thinned. I couldn't hear her through the door but I could read hell lips, the first words I won't repeat, but the final two words before she locked the door, trapping me out in the 100 degree tundra was “FIX IT!”
I was in exile from the air until it was again clear. I had a better chance of walking on that water than I did clearing it up in a few minutes. I scratched at the back door like a cat left out in the rain until Dotty answered, “What do you want good Samaritan?” “An empty water bottle, the keys and a pair of real shoes, I'm taking over a sample” The air in the Caddy blew ice cold and I figured it was better than sweating and staring. Dotty slid the door open just enough to give me what I asked for...no more....no less.
I took over my water sample and the result were in....high PH...the girl behind the counter told me what I already knew, “you have a lot of kids huh? You need to talk about peeing in the pool!” “Thanks! How long will it take to clear up and do you mind if I browse in your air until then?”
I would jump in my pool but of course I invited the neighbor kids to jump in and cool off yesterday, with the sign plainly displayed on the fence two feet from the pool pleading for them not to pee in the pool, I saw each and everyone of them make the face. Yes the pee pee face, every one of them! I gave them a scowl and they all just looked at me, smiled and said, “whaaaat?” You better not be doing what I think you're doing!” “whaaaaaaaaaat????????” they squealed.
I saw the boy in the group raise and lower his eyebrows three times, I knew that look; I had made the same look many times myself, usually at halftime of an Eagles game when the score is close. Two full quarters worth of relief, second best feeling in the world. I really didn't want to continue the volleyball game of questions answered by questions so I shook my head and went back into my air conditioned cave.
The rule was they could swim if one of their parents would stand watch, I was in no mood to play lifeguard. So the neighbor's son's girlfriend sat on their porch and watched the kids in my pool not 10 feet away. She was not happy about it and sat with a sour face that made her look like a mean third-grader, you know, that girl that would beat up the boys and who was only happy and laughed when she was inflicting pain and punishment on somebody. I could hear her snapping at them as I slid my patio door shut and sealed out the heat and chaos.
After about the better part of an hour I was sitting in my recliner and writing some comedy material on my laptop with some obscure program playing on the TV in the background. I heard my door slide open and my Golden Retriever Bear awoke from his summer slumber and lifted his head with a half hearted “wuff”.
The four of them, dripping wet and pissed off I hadn't heard them knocking. They marched through my kitchen and into my dining room. “We bin knockin!!!” hands on hips the 6 year old snapped at me. “Sorry Guys I didn't hear you, I was working.” “that's how you work????” The 11 year old said as she twisted up her face and stared in disbelief. “Who pays you to do THAT????” I stared at her with a blank expression, said nothing for almost an entire minute, it took at least 45 seconds for her to appear the least bit uncomfortable, the two 10 year olds in the back just remained silent and watched on like they were spectators at a bull fight not really sure which side to be on.
Finally, she broke away from my stair and the little one said in a frail voice, “we wanna go home”. I looked down at their feet and saw the small pond that had developed from their dripping bodies. “OK guys, did you leave any water in the pool?” The 6 year old was picking up on the sarcasm and didn't appreciate it one bit. “YESSSSSssssss” she said with a heavy sigh, “you're silly” she was obviously the speaker of the group.
She turned her head, looked back to the others and nodded it toward the door, “Lets go” she rolled her eyes and jerked her head towards me as if to say to the other “ppppfffftttt, this guy” they marched out the front door still dripping and leaving a trail of droplets across my floor and out the door as the door was shutting I heard the little one say almost like a song, “You need to clean your pool, the water turned green!!!”
It made me stop typing, the water was crystal clear, we had just algaecided, chlorinated, stabilized and clarified the damn thing, cost over $50 in chemicals to get it that way. I closed my laptop, de-reclined from my chair and shuffled my slippered feet to the patio door. I stood there, in disbelief as I stared at what looked like a retention pond off of Bartram Ave in Philly. The water was an unfamiliar shade of blue-green, with what appeared to be a fine white mist about a foot below the surface. The steps disappeared into the murk after the third step, the center drain was impossible to see.
How could they have done this in such a short time. How much asparagus could they have eaten that would turn their urine into this horrid pollutant? I looked at my deliciously refreshing oasis in the middle of Pitman, it was now something that I could blame on BP. I had shocked my pool many times, this was the first time it shocked me.
As I turned away from the 18,000 gallon urinal in my yard I saw Dotty standing in her bathing suit, inside the sliding glass door. Her arms were folding in an angry pose, her eyes tightened and her lips thinned. I couldn't hear her through the door but I could read hell lips, the first words I won't repeat, but the final two words before she locked the door, trapping me out in the 100 degree tundra was “FIX IT!”
I was in exile from the air until it was again clear. I had a better chance of walking on that water than I did clearing it up in a few minutes. I scratched at the back door like a cat left out in the rain until Dotty answered, “What do you want good Samaritan?” “An empty water bottle, the keys and a pair of real shoes, I'm taking over a sample” The air in the Caddy blew ice cold and I figured it was better than sweating and staring. Dotty slid the door open just enough to give me what I asked for...no more....no less.
I took over my water sample and the result were in....high PH...the girl behind the counter told me what I already knew, “you have a lot of kids huh? You need to talk about peeing in the pool!” “Thanks! How long will it take to clear up and do you mind if I browse in your air until then?”
Empty Nesting
Empty nesting...its a term I've heard about....seldom thought about....until now.
Three weeks ago Jimmy, Shea and Tony rented a place in Deptford. Meaning Shea and Tony were moving out of the house. For about two weeks before the move everyone was busy, running around trying to put together last minute details. Dotty and I went about our lives as if it really wasn't going to happen.
You see, Ellen moved out when she was 19. Same age as me when I left home. The boys took longer. Jimmy left for the navy when he was 21 and while we were in Punta Cana the year I made Invincible, 2005. The day before we left he dropped the bomb. Great way to start a vacation right? Well that actually turned out to be the best move my son ever made, he went away, saw the world and learned a lot of lessons. He came home a man. Still Jimmy. Just a more responsible, sensible Jimmy. Of course the week long party that went on while he was home alone and we were in the Dominican Republic was epic and will live forever as a fable of Pitman parties to end all Pitman parties as told by participants, spectators and police for generations to come.
But Shea, well lets just say, Shea was in no hurry to move out and Dotty was quite fine with that. Me, deep down never wanted any of them to leave but, all little birds must leave the nest and spread their wings, fly little bird...fly...Its a Dad's thankless job to push you along, get you on your way. Something I would rather not have done but had to.
I would drop subtle hints and wise-cracks about moving every time we would have a small incidental disagreement. He would be like, “I don't think so, I would have done it this way” and on the rare but inevitable event he was I would reply, “Get an apartment” and walk away. I never, with any of them, told them to get out. I threatened it many times. Asked hypothetically what they would do, where they would go if I did, just to humble them up a bit, never really would though. Both Ellen and Jimmy did the “I'm running away” thing, which was really no more than an extended summer sleep over at a friends house where the parents were as unaware of it as we were. Both came home on the third day, hands on hips announcing how they had run away and nobody cared. “Oh, sorry, we knew you were at the Larson's, you ran away? What's sa'matter? Let's have a cheese-steak and talk about it!”
Well it happened anyway, the boys got the house after half a dozen “for sure” places fell through. So, the day came and went very non-ceremonially. Shea was at his second job delivering pizzas until 8pm so he really didn't show up until later that night. Tony, one of my wrestlers that stayed with us since high school whenever he was home from college, did most of the running with Jimmy stopping by to borrow our luggage to pack his clothes.
I told him I thought that was odd packing a suitcase to move, but Jimmy is a little odd. He's an anal slob. I didn't think that was possible until my son came along. He would arrange his dirty dishes in his room so they were all organized, not clean, not in the kitchen sink, but organized on his nightstand!! All the dirty spoons in a dirty glass inside a dirty coffee mug, inside four dirty bowls, sitting next to three quarter filled vitamin water bottles all lined up in a row, with two Gatorade bottles with dip spit neatly rowed up next to them.
I figured since Shea worked late he wasn't getting much done that night. He came by grabbed his toothbrush and some toiletries Dotty insisted on him taking and he gave me a kiss on the cheek and a hug as I was reclined asleep in my chair. I had passed out about a half an hour before he got there around 11pm. Dotty was a mess, but recovered quickly, at least she put up that front. I assumed he would come by on Sunday and finish up, that was three weeks ago!
Empty Nesting my ass!! Nothing about my nest is empty! All his stuff is still here! He came by in the middle of the night while were sleeping and took his box spring and mattress. We found this out by walking through what looked like snow all over my staircase leaded down from the bedrooms to the living-room. “What the....????” I looked up and saw a well defined Nike swoop of missing popcorn on the ceiling were the box-spring had negotiated the turn in the stairs.
I had no coffee in me yet and couldn't seem to muster an emotion. I half smiled as I envisioned the scene of Shea and Tony trying to get the bed out without waking us up. The two of them doing the screaming whisper, you know where you yell at somebody but it comes out as angry wisps and rasps, you can hear the heat in the escaping air. I'm sure my son saw it scrape the ceiling, he probably made a face, groaned, maybe even cursed, didn't clean it up, but stared at it for a while shaking his head followed by a shoulder shrug and an about face.
After filling my cup, I ventured upstairs to view what I thought would be a quiet father moment, me in my slippers and pj's, sipping a cup of joe, looking at an empty room. Thinking of my eyes welling up as I saw the fresh, unfaded blocks on the walls where posters and framed jerseys had hung for the better part of two decades. After a long paused moment I turned the knob to enter the vast void that was my boys' room.
Well, I tried to enter, I pushed and the door opened a foot, no more. I saw a four foot pile of clothes directly to the right of the door. My eyebrows lowered as I leaned my shoulder into the door. It took some effort to get it open to the point I could squeeze my butt past the jam. The room was wall to wall!!
The bed frame sat naked in the middle of the floor no box spring, no mattress. The barren place that should have been inside the frame was filled with assorted articles of clothing, dirty dishes, a shoe box (very suspect of shoe boxes!! mainly 'cause I have one myself!!), a half of a soft pretzel, no longer soft, more like a monument to a pretzel, granite in texture. There was a stain that was in the shape of Elvis' Head or Jesus, depending on the angle of your view It was on the only bare spot left in the room, so it was impossible to identify the rugs true hue.
The room had actually lost its identity, when you think of a room you imagine four walls in a square or rectangular fashion, at least that's what I believe every little baby room aspires to grow up to be, this poor room had a pile of clothes stacked three or more feet high in all four corners, giving it the illusion of being in the middle of a large bowl.
I looked to my left and right quickly scanning the room for any signs of Chewy, Luke or Hans cause it felt like I was inside a giant refuse container. I thought I saw Princess Leia but it turned out to be a half inflated blow up doll, I think that would have been something I took on my first trip, but hey that's me.
I stood in as close to the middle of the room as I could get and did a 360. Medals and posters still nailed to the walls. Some had duct tape holding them on, sound black electrical tape. They had finishing nails, framing nails, roofing nails and a few 3” drywall screws holding up an assortment of stuff never meant to hang on a wall, like Jimmy's new aluminum bat he broke hitting a triple off of Chris Rose in a senior league game back in 8th grade and a wooden plaque with the picture removed leaving a blank clear plastic sleeve.
A Mexican blanket nailed up over a structured hole in the wall I put there to sink their chest so it wouldn't take up as much room but, because I left the sides open to the eves it scared them so they pulled the chest out of the wall and covered it, big babies!!
I saw a few things I just couldn't identify, I felt it better not to investigate, I was still just halfway through my first cup and wasn't sure how my morning stomach would hold up if I saw something intolerable.
The doorless closet, where the doors went I haven't a clue, they were just...gone, was packed solid with folded clothes stacked up from the floor to the stuff hanging, a virtual wall of clothes. When did he get all these clothes? Did he ever throw anything away? What made that stain? How long had it been since I was in here? The questions swirled in my head simultaneously, like having five of me all yelling at the same time, the chaos of the room was consuming me, pulling me into the abyss of clutter. I shook it off and came out of my mid-morning stupor. I looked around again and felt as though I had woken up in the middle of an episode of “Hoarders”. The roof could have collapsed and it wouldn't budge over this room, supported by pillars of denim and polyester.
I saw the neck of a guitar poking out from behind some sweatshirts and attempted to free it from its snare of hoodies. I pulled it away to expose what looked like soot stained flame mark coming from a melted outlet!! What the????? I shook my head as I made the sign of the cross and looked up to heaven, “thanks for being here that night Big Guy!!” I humbly whispered.
As I turned to leave I saw three baskets of dirty clothes that had splashes of pink, purple and yellow strew throughout. It just didn't fit. I decided to take a closer look and as I crouched down to take a peer with my squinting unassisted eyes I saw a bra and several thongs all balled up in the top basket. Chelsea had cleaned out her room and filled the vacant space that was the boys room with her laundry!! The boys weren't gone 24 hours and she had begun to move in, dirty clothes first!
I carried down from the room to the kitchen 14 spoons!! Yep 14!! Since they left we now have two slots worth of spoons in the silver drawer! An assortment of mugs and glasses along with the lone remaining plate we have from a set we got as a wedding gift. Dot was happy to see it still around.
I finished my coffee and pulled out the milk which without the boys around had soured; for first time ever we had milk go bad before it was gone.
I called my son. “Hey Boy!! What's your bedroom look like?”
“You'd be proud of me Dad, clean and tidy, not even any dirty clothes on the floor!” he beamed.
“That's cause its all still here!!"
Second cup.....
Three weeks ago Jimmy, Shea and Tony rented a place in Deptford. Meaning Shea and Tony were moving out of the house. For about two weeks before the move everyone was busy, running around trying to put together last minute details. Dotty and I went about our lives as if it really wasn't going to happen.
You see, Ellen moved out when she was 19. Same age as me when I left home. The boys took longer. Jimmy left for the navy when he was 21 and while we were in Punta Cana the year I made Invincible, 2005. The day before we left he dropped the bomb. Great way to start a vacation right? Well that actually turned out to be the best move my son ever made, he went away, saw the world and learned a lot of lessons. He came home a man. Still Jimmy. Just a more responsible, sensible Jimmy. Of course the week long party that went on while he was home alone and we were in the Dominican Republic was epic and will live forever as a fable of Pitman parties to end all Pitman parties as told by participants, spectators and police for generations to come.
But Shea, well lets just say, Shea was in no hurry to move out and Dotty was quite fine with that. Me, deep down never wanted any of them to leave but, all little birds must leave the nest and spread their wings, fly little bird...fly...Its a Dad's thankless job to push you along, get you on your way. Something I would rather not have done but had to.
I would drop subtle hints and wise-cracks about moving every time we would have a small incidental disagreement. He would be like, “I don't think so, I would have done it this way” and on the rare but inevitable event he was I would reply, “Get an apartment” and walk away. I never, with any of them, told them to get out. I threatened it many times. Asked hypothetically what they would do, where they would go if I did, just to humble them up a bit, never really would though. Both Ellen and Jimmy did the “I'm running away” thing, which was really no more than an extended summer sleep over at a friends house where the parents were as unaware of it as we were. Both came home on the third day, hands on hips announcing how they had run away and nobody cared. “Oh, sorry, we knew you were at the Larson's, you ran away? What's sa'matter? Let's have a cheese-steak and talk about it!”
Well it happened anyway, the boys got the house after half a dozen “for sure” places fell through. So, the day came and went very non-ceremonially. Shea was at his second job delivering pizzas until 8pm so he really didn't show up until later that night. Tony, one of my wrestlers that stayed with us since high school whenever he was home from college, did most of the running with Jimmy stopping by to borrow our luggage to pack his clothes.
I told him I thought that was odd packing a suitcase to move, but Jimmy is a little odd. He's an anal slob. I didn't think that was possible until my son came along. He would arrange his dirty dishes in his room so they were all organized, not clean, not in the kitchen sink, but organized on his nightstand!! All the dirty spoons in a dirty glass inside a dirty coffee mug, inside four dirty bowls, sitting next to three quarter filled vitamin water bottles all lined up in a row, with two Gatorade bottles with dip spit neatly rowed up next to them.
I figured since Shea worked late he wasn't getting much done that night. He came by grabbed his toothbrush and some toiletries Dotty insisted on him taking and he gave me a kiss on the cheek and a hug as I was reclined asleep in my chair. I had passed out about a half an hour before he got there around 11pm. Dotty was a mess, but recovered quickly, at least she put up that front. I assumed he would come by on Sunday and finish up, that was three weeks ago!
Empty Nesting my ass!! Nothing about my nest is empty! All his stuff is still here! He came by in the middle of the night while were sleeping and took his box spring and mattress. We found this out by walking through what looked like snow all over my staircase leaded down from the bedrooms to the living-room. “What the....????” I looked up and saw a well defined Nike swoop of missing popcorn on the ceiling were the box-spring had negotiated the turn in the stairs.
I had no coffee in me yet and couldn't seem to muster an emotion. I half smiled as I envisioned the scene of Shea and Tony trying to get the bed out without waking us up. The two of them doing the screaming whisper, you know where you yell at somebody but it comes out as angry wisps and rasps, you can hear the heat in the escaping air. I'm sure my son saw it scrape the ceiling, he probably made a face, groaned, maybe even cursed, didn't clean it up, but stared at it for a while shaking his head followed by a shoulder shrug and an about face.
After filling my cup, I ventured upstairs to view what I thought would be a quiet father moment, me in my slippers and pj's, sipping a cup of joe, looking at an empty room. Thinking of my eyes welling up as I saw the fresh, unfaded blocks on the walls where posters and framed jerseys had hung for the better part of two decades. After a long paused moment I turned the knob to enter the vast void that was my boys' room.
Well, I tried to enter, I pushed and the door opened a foot, no more. I saw a four foot pile of clothes directly to the right of the door. My eyebrows lowered as I leaned my shoulder into the door. It took some effort to get it open to the point I could squeeze my butt past the jam. The room was wall to wall!!
The bed frame sat naked in the middle of the floor no box spring, no mattress. The barren place that should have been inside the frame was filled with assorted articles of clothing, dirty dishes, a shoe box (very suspect of shoe boxes!! mainly 'cause I have one myself!!), a half of a soft pretzel, no longer soft, more like a monument to a pretzel, granite in texture. There was a stain that was in the shape of Elvis' Head or Jesus, depending on the angle of your view It was on the only bare spot left in the room, so it was impossible to identify the rugs true hue.
The room had actually lost its identity, when you think of a room you imagine four walls in a square or rectangular fashion, at least that's what I believe every little baby room aspires to grow up to be, this poor room had a pile of clothes stacked three or more feet high in all four corners, giving it the illusion of being in the middle of a large bowl.
I looked to my left and right quickly scanning the room for any signs of Chewy, Luke or Hans cause it felt like I was inside a giant refuse container. I thought I saw Princess Leia but it turned out to be a half inflated blow up doll, I think that would have been something I took on my first trip, but hey that's me.
I stood in as close to the middle of the room as I could get and did a 360. Medals and posters still nailed to the walls. Some had duct tape holding them on, sound black electrical tape. They had finishing nails, framing nails, roofing nails and a few 3” drywall screws holding up an assortment of stuff never meant to hang on a wall, like Jimmy's new aluminum bat he broke hitting a triple off of Chris Rose in a senior league game back in 8th grade and a wooden plaque with the picture removed leaving a blank clear plastic sleeve.
A Mexican blanket nailed up over a structured hole in the wall I put there to sink their chest so it wouldn't take up as much room but, because I left the sides open to the eves it scared them so they pulled the chest out of the wall and covered it, big babies!!
I saw a few things I just couldn't identify, I felt it better not to investigate, I was still just halfway through my first cup and wasn't sure how my morning stomach would hold up if I saw something intolerable.
The doorless closet, where the doors went I haven't a clue, they were just...gone, was packed solid with folded clothes stacked up from the floor to the stuff hanging, a virtual wall of clothes. When did he get all these clothes? Did he ever throw anything away? What made that stain? How long had it been since I was in here? The questions swirled in my head simultaneously, like having five of me all yelling at the same time, the chaos of the room was consuming me, pulling me into the abyss of clutter. I shook it off and came out of my mid-morning stupor. I looked around again and felt as though I had woken up in the middle of an episode of “Hoarders”. The roof could have collapsed and it wouldn't budge over this room, supported by pillars of denim and polyester.
I saw the neck of a guitar poking out from behind some sweatshirts and attempted to free it from its snare of hoodies. I pulled it away to expose what looked like soot stained flame mark coming from a melted outlet!! What the????? I shook my head as I made the sign of the cross and looked up to heaven, “thanks for being here that night Big Guy!!” I humbly whispered.
As I turned to leave I saw three baskets of dirty clothes that had splashes of pink, purple and yellow strew throughout. It just didn't fit. I decided to take a closer look and as I crouched down to take a peer with my squinting unassisted eyes I saw a bra and several thongs all balled up in the top basket. Chelsea had cleaned out her room and filled the vacant space that was the boys room with her laundry!! The boys weren't gone 24 hours and she had begun to move in, dirty clothes first!
I carried down from the room to the kitchen 14 spoons!! Yep 14!! Since they left we now have two slots worth of spoons in the silver drawer! An assortment of mugs and glasses along with the lone remaining plate we have from a set we got as a wedding gift. Dot was happy to see it still around.
I finished my coffee and pulled out the milk which without the boys around had soured; for first time ever we had milk go bad before it was gone.
I called my son. “Hey Boy!! What's your bedroom look like?”
“You'd be proud of me Dad, clean and tidy, not even any dirty clothes on the floor!” he beamed.
“That's cause its all still here!!"
Second cup.....
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Best Back Handed Compliment Ever
So I use one of my 6 precious pages on my website for a blog, not a bad idea for a stand up comic. Get your thoughts and ideas out there, let people get to know you, understand your slant or view of things...helps people “get” your comedy if they recognize from which axis your tilt is coming, although the best comedy is one that comes at you like an angry mob. Shots coming at you from every angle, a jab to the chin followed by a club behind the ear.
I had the greatest backhanded compliment the other night that told me I was doing just that. I had a last minute show this Monday @ Jack's Bar and Grill, the place I do my Quizzo Show every Tuesday. Two of the young comics they had lined up canceled at the last minute. I got a phone call about an hour before the show started. After a quick negotiation session on what would draw me off my recliner and to put a pair of pants back on...once I heard the number I was waiting for I got up, got dressed, gargled and put on the Roundboy cap (absolutely necessary for the transformation of Jimmy to Roundboy...this will be its own blog) and drove that long 3 mile trek down Delsea Drive to Jack's. There was about 40 people for the show not a bad turnout for a Monday night the last week of June. I started out working the crowd and within the first 5 minutes I had complimented or insulted almost everyone in the room. The insults were light, nothing mean or gross at first....
I had a good set...not my best but still pretty good especially considering the fact I had been in a quasi sleep mode scratching in my living room an hour before. I didn't bring any merchandise to sell cause I wanted to hit and run...be back in my leather throne by 9:30 like nothing had every happened except for the folded cash on my bureau...while I was waiting for the cash I bade goodnight to my audience as they left the dining room and either went left to the door or made a right and nestled up to the bar.
There was a big group of about 15 people, mostly women, on the wall to my left when I was on stage. I saw what looked to me like four generations of woman...I make the remark they were lined up that way in order of cats....from the 16 year old kitten through the 70 year old Jaguar...with the cougar and puma in the middle...these ladies kept their eyes on me for the next 50 minutes, I had charmed everyone of them, I felt like Bill from True Blood, I had glamored these woman into strict attention...I envy Roundboy for his ability to do that, something Jimmy had always struggled with (again another story...another day)...they were the last to leave and the cougar of the group (I think that made her my age...correct me if I have the wrong feline) approached me. She was very cool, complimented me and my material. She had related to almost every premise I had uttered. Her direct quote, “I loved your stuff, except the end. It was like we were at a wedding and watched you get drunk on stage!” I crinkled my eyebrows and tilted my head asking what she meant without saying a word, my best Belushi impression without meaning to.
She continued, “You were so sweet and nice and as time went on you got dirtier and meaner...I mean it was still funny...but whoa...!!” I guess at first I was a bit taken back, but later on while driving that long ride from Twp to Pitman I pondered that thought. I smiled to myself and replayed the jaguar, cougar, puma and kitten all getting up and walking out as I mimicked the sounds of trying to free a hung up pube in the throat...a standard part of my bar set...guess I should have used the dinner show set...ahhhh well made them laugh, made them think, made them a little angry, a little grossed out, a little embarrassed...in other words I made them feel....freakin love my job!!!
New Blog coming I think I like this!!!!
I had the greatest backhanded compliment the other night that told me I was doing just that. I had a last minute show this Monday @ Jack's Bar and Grill, the place I do my Quizzo Show every Tuesday. Two of the young comics they had lined up canceled at the last minute. I got a phone call about an hour before the show started. After a quick negotiation session on what would draw me off my recliner and to put a pair of pants back on...once I heard the number I was waiting for I got up, got dressed, gargled and put on the Roundboy cap (absolutely necessary for the transformation of Jimmy to Roundboy...this will be its own blog) and drove that long 3 mile trek down Delsea Drive to Jack's. There was about 40 people for the show not a bad turnout for a Monday night the last week of June. I started out working the crowd and within the first 5 minutes I had complimented or insulted almost everyone in the room. The insults were light, nothing mean or gross at first....
I had a good set...not my best but still pretty good especially considering the fact I had been in a quasi sleep mode scratching in my living room an hour before. I didn't bring any merchandise to sell cause I wanted to hit and run...be back in my leather throne by 9:30 like nothing had every happened except for the folded cash on my bureau...while I was waiting for the cash I bade goodnight to my audience as they left the dining room and either went left to the door or made a right and nestled up to the bar.
There was a big group of about 15 people, mostly women, on the wall to my left when I was on stage. I saw what looked to me like four generations of woman...I make the remark they were lined up that way in order of cats....from the 16 year old kitten through the 70 year old Jaguar...with the cougar and puma in the middle...these ladies kept their eyes on me for the next 50 minutes, I had charmed everyone of them, I felt like Bill from True Blood, I had glamored these woman into strict attention...I envy Roundboy for his ability to do that, something Jimmy had always struggled with (again another story...another day)...they were the last to leave and the cougar of the group (I think that made her my age...correct me if I have the wrong feline) approached me. She was very cool, complimented me and my material. She had related to almost every premise I had uttered. Her direct quote, “I loved your stuff, except the end. It was like we were at a wedding and watched you get drunk on stage!” I crinkled my eyebrows and tilted my head asking what she meant without saying a word, my best Belushi impression without meaning to.
She continued, “You were so sweet and nice and as time went on you got dirtier and meaner...I mean it was still funny...but whoa...!!” I guess at first I was a bit taken back, but later on while driving that long ride from Twp to Pitman I pondered that thought. I smiled to myself and replayed the jaguar, cougar, puma and kitten all getting up and walking out as I mimicked the sounds of trying to free a hung up pube in the throat...a standard part of my bar set...guess I should have used the dinner show set...ahhhh well made them laugh, made them think, made them a little angry, a little grossed out, a little embarrassed...in other words I made them feel....freakin love my job!!!
New Blog coming I think I like this!!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)