What If?

Yesterday, I griped, today, I'm gigglin'...

My parents divorced when I was in elementary school, around second grade or so. At the time, it stressed me out a bit, but I think we all turned out alright. They've ended up being the best of best friends, and it's a pretty cool deal. They spend time together, take care of each other, and don't fight near as much as they did before the divorce.

Part of the fun of workin' the family biz is that I don't have to "be nice" and deprive myself of the fine entertainment provided by Telemarketers. Every now and then, I manage to make them hang up on me. Heh.

Before lunch, I answered to a whirl of background noise and since there were several people talking, I didn't bother with an extra "hello" or anything. After a couple seconds, a loud female voice said "They're DOWN? Well how the FUCK are we supposed to get our COMMISSION?" And then she hung up.

I could hear a lot of similar background noise when I answered this afternoon, and the voice on the other end asked for "The Owner Of The Business."

I guess I could've done a better job of withholding... Wait. Howdy, spell-check. Withholding has two H's in it? Really?? Well, I guess I did learn something today.

Anyway...

I guess I could've done a better job of withholding information, but I said "He's not in right now, is there somethin' one of the rest of us could help ya with?"

"Is his wife available?"

"What makes you think he has a wife?"

"Oh, are you his wife?"

"Noooo, but what makes you think he has one?"

"What?"

"Well what if he's Gay, he wouldn't have a wife then, would he?"

She didn't say another word, she just hung up.

He's about as far away from Gay as anyone could be, but if we ever turn up in some kind of listing for "Gay-Owned Businesses," I guess I'll know why. Heh. And next time they ask for him with his real name, I'll really have fun with 'em.

Here's To The Postal Service...

No personally-rooted Mail Man jokes this time, I promise.

Oh, the joys of working in the family business...

Gawd, Friday was rough, if I'da been a mail man, I'da shot up the place, for-sure.

I guess it probably got started about Wednesday and just kept brewin' on me, but by the time I left work Friday, I was mad as hell. As soon as the car door closed, I had the radio up so loud I was waiting for my ears to bleed. When I got to Clay's house, Mom had called him because she'd called my cell phone three times and I didn't answer. Whups.

Saturday morning was slightly amusing, and included getting to hear a couple more sides of what went on Friday afternoon. Amusing but still, he left early Wednesday and Thursday, and then Friday he didn't get there 'til about two O'clock and then left again only to promptly call on the phone and throughly piss me off. I really thought he knew better than to talk to me like that -- I about halfway expect the "lemme talk to somebody else" deal from the general retail public, but come on, we're talkin' about my own brother here, and my patience was strained to begin with.

Saturday night, when all I wanted was a good night of racing to forget it all, the ol' Black Motor ate another bell housing.

Sunday afternoon, the source of my Friday frustration had the nerve to call my cell phone 'cause he was trying to get the computers working and "thuh internets says page not be displayed."

I only answered 'cause I really didn't think he'd call me and it must've been Mom or Dad, 'cause really, I'm sure he had to know I was mad Friday, and I'm sure he had to know that Mom was mad too since she hung up on him while he was bitchin' about me late Friday night.

Now, Monday, he pretends none of it happened and everything is fine.

Since he apparently has no memory of the evening, I'm wondering if maybe that was a drunk-dial late Friday night, but seriously, who drunk-dials their own Mother? Personally, I've never done any drunk-dialing, but I have a few guesses who I might call if I did. Mom or Dad is nowhere near any of those guesses. College buddies, racin' buddies, old boyfriends, ex-girlfriends-of-old-boyfriends, pizza delivery, anybody but my parents.

Just 'cause I'm all about sharing the laughter, I'll share a little more fun that's loosely connected to That two-humped animal incident that I wrote about a while back. Today, she seemed a little confused about "irritated." She asked about Mom not bein' here. (Mom's not in the office, Mom's truck is not in the parking lot, why did I have to help with drawing the conclusion that Mom is not in today?)

"Is she sick?"

"Nah, just irritated."

"What, her stomach or a rash or what?"

"No, irritated, she's pissed off and didn't want to be here today."

I really didn't want to be here today either, but I've got a broken transmission that needs to be fixed.

More later... _\,,/

One for The Ninth Of May...

One for The Ninth Of May...
Originally uploaded by TwentyCarlo

I didn't forget, I probably never will.

Six years seems so long, but so short. So close, but so far away.

I've come a long way, but there'll always be a little part of my heart right there close to you; listenin' to that "Red Headed Stranger" CD and harassin' the cat, or watchin' "Born In East LA" for the nine-hundred-and-thirty-fifth time and wipin' buttery popcorn fingers on the arm of the couch, or singin' in the kitchen and makin' grilled-cheese sandwiches with gobs of Miracle Whip oozin' out.

I still have no idea how anybody could stand so much of that Miracle Whip stuff, but...

Here's to you, David Paul, you wouldn't believe the way things have changed around here... Or the way they've stayed the same.

08-27-51 ~ 05-09-02

"Live From The Backyard"

100_0241
Originally uploaded by TwentyCarlo

Yeah, I ripped off a DVD title there...

Of course, this picture is far from "LIve." Right this minute, it's raining here in Sperry, and it has been raining all day. The sky is mostly grey, not blue like it was Monday evening when I took the new camera outside to play around a bit.

I just linked my Flickr Account to my Blogger Account and this is my first post via the "blog this" button that appears at the top of each picture.

I shot this one looking East from the edge of the back patio, just far enough out to clear the roof. When the weather is nice enough to be outside, I like the back patio in the daylight and the front yard after dark. At night, in the back yard we can hear coyotes and in the front we can hear the highway. I still miss the days when we could hear Tulsa Speedway on the weekends...

But it'll always be Home to me.

Clay's brother got me that "Live From The Backyard" DVD for Christmas, but I haven't had a chance to watch it yet... Maybe I can lay in the porch swing and watch it on the laptop after work; as long as the rain is just falling and not blowing.