BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

As one approaches middle age, there is a tendency toward bruising… But that would actually be Chuin’s line (See Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins… No, really… See it…)

Where I’m going with this is that when you get older, if you’re smart, instead of just collecting more and more crap, you start to jettison some of the crap you already have. For one thing, it’s less work to maintain your house. For another, it’s less stuff you have to move and/or deal with when you get old and have to go live at the Daisy Hill Old People Farm. And, it’s that much less crap your kid, or kids, will have to sort through when you get all corpsified and gross.

Well, E K and I aren’t exactly youngsters any longer. Granted, E K still looks like one, but me, not so much. Still, being the practical Taurus, The Evil Redhead decided the other night that maybe it was time to get rid of some stuff. Now, while in the past she has been more than happy to give away MY stuff and then wait for me to notice, this time she was in a mood to offload some of her own. In particular, clothes.

You see, her supreme evilness actually has some pretty damn good fashion sense. She recognizes what will most likely come back around, and she stores things away. Probably all part of her frugality. A way to recycle clothing that is perfectly wearable, but has gone out of style. But, as with any sort of squirreling away, eventually there are more generic Rubbermaid totes occupying your basement than you need. And so, she set about culling the hidden wardrobe.

Now, there’s also something else I should point out. E K happens to be pretty damn creative. She also knows how to sew, and I don’t just mean stitching in a hem, or darning a sock. She used to make her own clothing, and still has what was at one time a pretty high end sewing machine.

But on with the story…

Her worshipfulness pulled out a few of the totes and began going through the hidden treasures that were old clothes, sorting things out into what was back in style that she could wear, retro sorts of things that would likely come back into style and that the o-spring might one day want, and those things that were destined for Goodwill. As usual, when one goes through such storage containers, she ran across various nostalgic items. You know, things like her Catholic Schoolgirl Uniform… No… Wait… That’s actually in the closet for adult play night… Ummm… Well…

But seriously… A T-Shirt from the college she attended… Some clothing she had crocheted, sewn, and otherwise made. And, T-Shirts she had screen printed or appliqued.

There were plenty of “remember this?” moments as the o-spring watched on in confusion. At one point E K withdrew a screen printed tee from her teen years that bore a silhouette type likeness of Ian Hunter, front man for Mott the Hoople.

Yes… I can hear the younger folk among you saying, “Mott the what?” After all, that’s pretty much what the o-spring said. And so, it was explained, but she still said, “Mott the what?” so we gave up.

Later in the parade of Tees, The Evil One withdrew a shirt that bore an applique of Charlie Chaplin. While Ian Hunter and Mott The Hoople were iconic to us, we were willing to admit that Charlie was likely far more iconic, and the o-spring was far more likely to recognize him.

So, E K showed the spring the shirt and said, “Know who this is?”

The child furrowed her brow and said, “He looks familiar.”

E K replied, “Charlie Chaplin.”

This was when things went south. The o-spring perked up and said, “Oh yeah, he was one of the Beatles, right?”

Obviously, we will be starting an intensive musical education program with her in the very near future.

More to come…

Murv

Pizza boxes were piled on the island in the kitchen. They were empty, and what little remnants of the various “flavors” of Italian-American dinner pie… Well… Lunch and Breakfast Pie for that matter… But, I slobber as I digress. Fitting I suppose, given the title. But back to the story at hand…

…what little remnants of the various “flavors” of Italian-American dinner pie that were left had been tossed into a Tupperware container and stuffed into the icebox for later. At the moment, there was still work to be done.

You see, before I started blogging to keep folks up to date on my whereabouts and nefarious deeds, I had an e-newsletter. While I don’t regularly send one out any longer, I do use the list for announcements and the like. And, prior to establishing the e-newsletter, I had a good old-fashioned paper newsletter. I even have an 11×17 paper folder in my basement. Anybody know someone interested in buying it?

There I go, digressing again…

Let’s continue… AND, before THAT, my newsletter was on 8.5 x 11 paper, and stuffed into envelopes. So, when you have 2000 plus newsletters to stuff into envelopes in order to send them out to fans and bookstores, and you barely have enough money to print the newsletter to begin with, what do you do? Well, you don’t hire a mailing service, that’s for sure. You hire your friends. You buy pizza and beer, invite them over, and make them fold for their supper…

Or, in my case, I join them in the folding while E K strolls back and forth, occasionally slapping us with her riding crop and screaming, “FASTER LACKEYS!” as she makes us ALL work for our supper – which, of course, is primarily the leftover pizza crust from her plate that she tosses to us as we grovel at her feet.

Think I’m kidding? Two words: Evil Redhead.

But anyway… There we were, “Mentos”, The Chunk Man, E K, me, and even the o-spring, sitting around the dining room table with plastic milk crates of newsletters and boxes of envelopes and rolls of stamps. We had ourselves a regular assembly line going.

The Chunkster and E K were on folding duty, because they are both insanely meticulous about such. Mentos and I were stuffing the pre-printed envelopes, and I was pulling double duty putting the stamps on them as well. I really didn’t have much choice. E K kept kicking me under the table.

Anywho, the o-spring was all of about 4 at the time, which meant she was all about helping. For some reason that changes when they hit the tween/teen years. However, that’s now and this was then… So, back then, she was all about helping, and what she really wanted to do was lick the envelopes and seal them.

Okay, all good. She’s pretty meticulous too, so once she was shown the process, there was no worry about her slobbering on them or anything.

We had been at the project for better than two hours, with only a short break for dinner. Everything was coming together, moving like a well-oiled machine. Then, it happened… The end of the line started slowing down. By that, I mean the o-spring was no longer sealing envelopes. In fact, she was sitting in her chair with a bizarre look on her face as she smacked her lips.

My first thought was that she had given herself a paper-cut. I’ve done the same on envelopes when not paying attention. But there was no apparent blood and she wasn’t crying. Just seemingly perplexed.

E K turned to her and said, “Why did you stop? What’s wrong?”

The o-spring smacked her lips a couple of more times, then said without missing a beat, “I’m all out of tongue water.”

Creative descriptions… I guess that’s what happens when one of your parents is a writer.

More to come…

Murv