Flashback - December 28, 2006

Here's another in the short-running series of "flashbacks." Actually, they are posts I made in other places around the net, before starting up this blog in January of 2007. This one is from just after this past Christmas.

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December 28, 2006

Now, I know I'm not the only one with "issues" where my father is concerned. Knowing that others have similar issues makes it a little better. A little.

Following is a re-cap of our weekend with my visiting parents, and other things in life. There are other examples beyond these, but I'll save those for later. Maybe....

On Dec 27 I got an XMAS card from my sister card postmarked 16 Dec. We're still in the middle of settling into a new home with all the concomitant mess. It's taking forever to get things unpacked and arranged. In her card, she said that "we found out if we gave a party, things will get done." Makes sense to me. Unfortunately, our rooftop deck is not done yet by the builder, and no amount of partying - or threat of partying - is going to hurry up that one. But that's a thought to remember...

I had to talk to about five people at the Post Office over the last week before a Supervisor finally told me that I was going to have to go to our new Post Office and physically pick up our mail that had been forwarded from our old apartment address. Oh! I thought the Post Office delivered mail. Silly me!

Turns out the PO won't deliver our mail until a cluster box is installed on our property. But we didn't know that. Our builder hadn't told us that. In fact, our builder had attached mailboxes to each of the three houses, as if we were going to actually get mail there, and so we would periodically, anxiously, increasingly frustratingly, peek into them to see ... nada.

The PO Super that finally called me back said cluster boxes were supposed to be installed this week. This is actually a good thing, because the mailbox the builder attached to the house doesn't lock and so anyone passing by - and there does seem to be an interesting assortment and number of people "passing by" - could nab our mail. One of them already absconded with my tool box, on the day after we moved in! Welcome to the neighborhood! No worries, however. It was full of old rusted shit that I hadn't gotten rid of in years. Time for a new start! Bright side and all.

(Turns out, a neighbor has told us that the house that was on the property before ours was built was this huge antebellum mansion type-home that had been left to disrepair because the owner had died. Slowly, the abandoned home became a haven for drug dealers and a shooting gallery. Eventually, it became a crack house. So, maybe all these people passing by the house are still looking for the crack house. Wonderful!)

At least with a cluster box, our mail is safe from the gypsies, tramps and thieves. And it will only be a short walk to the corner to the cluster box. AND, the box will be facing Bagby Street*, which will help visitors to know that they are in the right place after all. You see, our driveway faces Dennis Street. In fact, all three of the townhomes driveways face Dennis Street. But the addresses are all on Bagby Street. How fucked up is that? So far, everyone except UPS has had trouble finding us. Heckuva job, Brownie!

According to the PO Super, all new construction uses cluster boxes. Period. Makes sense. I just happened to be driving in the Mustang with the top down on a gorgeous December day a few blocks away from the PO where they were holding our mail when he called me, so I just zipped right in. Maybe they should consider a "drive-thru" lane.

And let's hear it for mobile phones, because the phone company, AT&T, still can't seem to get it together to get us landline telephones. But that's another story. If it ain't one thing ....

GEEZ.

Oh, yeah, the parents...

We four kids got the parents a new telephone system with intercom, speakerphone, the works for Christmas because their present phones are a hodge-podge of phone types big and small, some really old. All four of us siblings are going to chip in to pay for it, but it's only $129 for four handsets and a base unit. Not a bad deal. But the question is, will they figure out how to use it? My father is 80 and my mother is 78. She is sharp, but he is showing some signs of dementia and memory loss, not to mention ass-holiness, but that's really nothing new.

I spent a couple of hours over the holidays showing them how to use them, because I bought an exact same system for our new home. We also have an assortment of phone types from over the years. I'm going to act as their "tech support" if they get confused about the phones. They can call me up (if they can figure out how to call me up) and ask me questions about the phones, and I'll have the same type. We'll see how this works.

He is a menace where electronics is concerned. He's got bits and pieces of four computers at his home, in various states of disrepair, because they all quit working properly, for God knows what reason, and he can't put them back together again. Can't throw them out though, oh no.

He's the kind of guy that will "click, click, click-click" frantically on the computer, expecting instant responses, and when the system gets bogged down, he gets frustrated, curses, and wanders off, forgetting what he was doing. Just TRY to teach him anything! Oh, God! First, he has to show you THIS, and THIS, and THIS. Argh!

He's got voicemail on his mobile phone (at least he HAS a mobile phone) but he can't ever remember how to access it. So there's no point in leaving a voicemail for him, because he'll forget how to access it. Hey! Just press 1, then enter your password! It's a universal feature of mobile phones. "I can't remember my password!" (sigh)

Even though they are getting pretty old and feeble, they insist on driving. Watch out! They arrived back home safely after the 450-mile drive, split over two days. Turns out he found the hearing aid he thought he'd lost while he was here. He thought he'd forgotten to bring his hearing aids on the trip down, but on the third day visiting, he found them, in a pants pocket. This time, it fell into a box with a radio we gave him for XMAS. And they found the purse Momma thought they'd left here. 'Twas in the backseat after all. (sigh)

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, there was a box hung up in this bureaucratic mailbox morass that was destined for Momma for Christmas. It was one of those Magic Bullet blenders, but now that I have seen her again in person and how slow and frail she is now, I'm thinking twice about giving it to her. Funny thing is I got a two-for-one deal and was planning to keep one for my lovely wife.

Check it out - http://www.buythebullet.com/ Psst! Got an extra Magic Bullet over here! Make me an offer!

The thing is, my mother was recently diagnosed with non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, which sounds bad, but is "better" than the Hodgkins Lymphoma. She's been undergoing chemo and has had her ups and downs. She's getting better. The recent tests were negative (good), and so has only two treatments left before they give her a break. She was pretty tired a lot during our visit. My poor sweet little Momma.

She should not be struggling to cook for herself that much, but it appears the old man is not really stepping into the breach in this regard, i.e. not cooking that much, if at all. He made one comment that all he gets at home is soup and sandwiches, compared to the wonderful meals that my wife cooked up during their visit. Nice. See, HE should be cooking and taking care of HER, but all he wants to do is play his trumpet in Dixieland bands at home. He is obsessed with the horn. Totally self-centered. It's maddening.

Here's a sad example. Momma had waited to go up all three flights of stairs to see our new rooftop deck until she was ready, and so on Christmas Day, with an icy drizzle blowing at about 25 mph from the north, it was finally time. I wanted to combine the trip to the deck with a test of the new telephones we'd bought, so I asked Daddy to stay down on 2 (in the kitchen), with the other phones and the base unit, and we'd take a phone up to the roof. So, three of us up top, one down below. I asked him to page us via the intercom when we'd gotten up there. Or, I could page him when we got up there, whichever. He agreed.

(He'd already been up to 4 to see the deck, on the first day they'd arrived, but Momma didn't want to push it. She was tired. There are 64 stairs to the very top. Even I get a little winded after one flight, and Momma would stuggle up them slowly.)

When Momma is ready and I announced that we were going, he jumps up and says, "I'll go with you."

"OK, fine, you go Daddy, and I will stay down here with the other phones," I said with all sense of resignation firmly tucked away. He had already forgotten that he'd agreed to stay below with the other phones. Not a good sign.

That's silly enough, perhaps, but what wasn't silly is that he was behind Momma, telling her to hurry up the stairs and don't be so slow! Jesus Christ! She's freakin' taking chemo and she takes time to get up the stairs, and you're trying to hurry her up! I jumped his shit for that one.

Cute, huh?

And so it goes. I hope everyone had a great holiday, but that's just because I'm an optimist. I actually know better.

*some details were changed to protect, uh, me.