Way Droopy
27 November 1998
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Way Droopy
27 November 1998
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Gosh I'm tired. This getting up at 7 AM stuff is for, well, for somebody else. I don't really have the mental energy right now - or the skill, ever, truth be told - to write a coherent narrative about my delayed Thanksgiving in the wilds of Windsor Today. I'll probably have more to say in bits this weekend. For now, some random impressions.
GOD I loathe Marin County. All that stucco, all that imitation fake faux-Mexican architecture, and I mean that redundancy quite literally. That's how many layers away from anything real it all is. Miles and miles of nowhere. O sweet city, your pavements and your traffic, your bums and buses, you are my one and only home.
Much to my surprise, though the TV was on, the sound was quite low, and we mostly spent the day (gasp!) talking. So it was a better visit than I expected. The maturity gap between the nephews and the lone remaining niece (the other one that's in the continental 48 being absent due to marital warfare, sadly) was stark. I know they're a bit younger, but not that much, and still on the one side you had a bunch of kids and on the other an unmistakable teenager. Poor fellows, they have no chance. Which is pretty much as I remember it.
Then of course, there's my nephew's daughter. Two and a half and as sweet as can be. The daughter of the son of my brother. Man. Hearing your sibling addressed as "Grampa" will send some serious shivers down your spine.
Hah - before I got there, apparently there was some debate as to what color my hair would be. One vote for "gone", one for blue. So the freshly radioactive green, with custom increasing naked scalp area, was kind of a Unity ticket winner. Maybe it was a good idea after all, who'dathought?
Hint for the Holidays: do not eat two large bags of popcorn the day before your Thanksgiving meal. OOoof.
I got back on the bus around 8 PM tonight, and on impulse managed to get in to see Babe: A Pig In The City - which was not sold out, strangely, considering that almost everything else playing at the gigantor AMC 1000 Van Ness multiplex was. Sheesh. Guys, wise up! This is the perfect date movie! Reduce em to slush, guaranteed. I may be prejudiced, I admit, since I left a mere puddle. No lie, I had to sit there napkin in hand, daubing away the tearups, through the entire film. "I'm not any kind of pie. I'm just a pig on a mission." Sentimental Sap Boy, that's me, I guess. It is darker than the first one, it's true, and as a result it has fewer funny parts. But my gosh, that's hardly a criticism, compared to what it does have. I look forward to the orangutan working with De Niro soon.
What an utterly different group of people, this family of mine. I feel like a poster child for mutation.
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
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All names are fake, most places are real, the
author is definitely
unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep.
© 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff. The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne. | ||||
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