further octogenarian adventures, the amazing mets, tds
As you may recall from the awkward Sunday night conversation, my grandfather has been having some trouble lately getting out of bed in the mornings (or, as he put it, "getting erect in the mornings"). Because of this, he asked if one of us could stop by in the mornings to help him get up.
"At 7:30, preferably," he said.
"Well, I leave for work at 8:00," my mother said. "Would a little after 8:00 be all right, Jim?"
"Oh, fine, fine," he said. "That would be lovely. [Sentence blacked out because it involved my grandfather thanking my mother for offering to get him erect in the mornings.] I'm so indebted to you."
Flash forward to Monday morning, about 7:45. My mother and I are in the kitchen, getting ready for work (my mom) and whining about an achy back (me), when the phone rings. It is, of course, my grandfather, complaining about how no one was there to get him up, he had terrible troubles, etc etc.
"But grandpa, remember, you said my mother could come by at 8:00?" I said, even though I knew he wouldn't remember.
"Well, it has to be 7:00," he said. "7:15 at the latest."
"All right," I said.
Flash forward to this morning. My mother drags herself out of bed and down to my grandfather's house at 7:00, walks into the house and is greeted by my grandfather bellowing out, "WHO'S THAT? WHAT'S GOING ON?"
"Jim, it's Peg," my mother said. "It's 7:00 in the morning, you asked me to come help you up, remember?"
And then there was a long pause. "WHY THE HELL WOULD I WANT TO GET UP AT 7:00?"
To which my mother could only say, "I, well. I don't really know, but you said that 8:00 was too --"
"8:00! Yes, 8:00 is much better. MUCH better. That's when someone should come by."
At this point, of course, my grandfather had gotten himself up fine and was moving on around the house at his breakneck speed of approximately 3 feet a minute.
Ah, fun fun fun. My mother told me the story in detail this evening after we'd both gotten home from work. She finished the story, stopped laughing, and then stared off into the distance for a minute before saying, "I need a beer."
She totally did. So did I, except I hate beer. So instead I just had a bowl of Life cereal. It was pretty good.
~~
In happier news, the Mets are on FIYAH! Opening day was today, against the Evil Braves, Tom Glavine on the mound. Tom Glavine, like most Mets acquisitions, was this truly amazing player for years and years, but then he joined the Mets. As you may know, immediately after joining the Mets, any given baseball player, regardless of his past record of health and consistency, will:
(a) suffer an injury;
(b) fall into an inexplicable slump; or
(c) both.
I provide you with Mo Vaughn, Roberto Alomar, Roger Cedeno, and countless others as examples. Exception that proves the rule: Cliff Floyd, who came to the team with a chronic injury last year and still rocked the casbah. We love Cliff.
But tonight! Tonight they WON! And they won BIG! And guys they'd acquired did AMAZINGLY and Mike Piazza hit a home run and looked hot, which is all I really need. Mike Piazza is totally one of the guys who, if he showed up at my door, I would run off with him, no questions asked. The list includes: Colin Firth. JC Chasez. Joshua Jackson. There are others, of course.
Why Mike Piazza, you ask? Many reasons. He is the best hitting catcher in history! And he's so cute. And, a few years ago, a sportscaster ran into him in the history section of a local bookstore, where Mike was carrying out a pile of books because he's a history buff. He can read! And when all of the other baseball players said Field of Dreams, he named Bull Durham as his favorite movie, and one time, when the team was in Montreal, the team made the rookies get up and sing karaoke, and at the end, he got up himself and sang some Guns and Roses song. I would know the name of the song if I were a cooler person, but I am not. I am actually the kind of person who has spent the past two minutes going, "Is it 'Guns 'n Roses'? Or 'Guns and Roses'? And where do those question marks go in relation to the quotation marks?"
I just. I love him. Am very sad my Mets icon is not a Mike Piazza icon. Not that there's anything wrong with Joe McEwing! I do love Joe.
~~
And that is all.
"At 7:30, preferably," he said.
"Well, I leave for work at 8:00," my mother said. "Would a little after 8:00 be all right, Jim?"
"Oh, fine, fine," he said. "That would be lovely. [Sentence blacked out because it involved my grandfather thanking my mother for offering to get him erect in the mornings.] I'm so indebted to you."
Flash forward to Monday morning, about 7:45. My mother and I are in the kitchen, getting ready for work (my mom) and whining about an achy back (me), when the phone rings. It is, of course, my grandfather, complaining about how no one was there to get him up, he had terrible troubles, etc etc.
"But grandpa, remember, you said my mother could come by at 8:00?" I said, even though I knew he wouldn't remember.
"Well, it has to be 7:00," he said. "7:15 at the latest."
"All right," I said.
Flash forward to this morning. My mother drags herself out of bed and down to my grandfather's house at 7:00, walks into the house and is greeted by my grandfather bellowing out, "WHO'S THAT? WHAT'S GOING ON?"
"Jim, it's Peg," my mother said. "It's 7:00 in the morning, you asked me to come help you up, remember?"
And then there was a long pause. "WHY THE HELL WOULD I WANT TO GET UP AT 7:00?"
To which my mother could only say, "I, well. I don't really know, but you said that 8:00 was too --"
"8:00! Yes, 8:00 is much better. MUCH better. That's when someone should come by."
At this point, of course, my grandfather had gotten himself up fine and was moving on around the house at his breakneck speed of approximately 3 feet a minute.
Ah, fun fun fun. My mother told me the story in detail this evening after we'd both gotten home from work. She finished the story, stopped laughing, and then stared off into the distance for a minute before saying, "I need a beer."
She totally did. So did I, except I hate beer. So instead I just had a bowl of Life cereal. It was pretty good.
~~
In happier news, the Mets are on FIYAH! Opening day was today, against the Evil Braves, Tom Glavine on the mound. Tom Glavine, like most Mets acquisitions, was this truly amazing player for years and years, but then he joined the Mets. As you may know, immediately after joining the Mets, any given baseball player, regardless of his past record of health and consistency, will:
(a) suffer an injury;
(b) fall into an inexplicable slump; or
(c) both.
I provide you with Mo Vaughn, Roberto Alomar, Roger Cedeno, and countless others as examples. Exception that proves the rule: Cliff Floyd, who came to the team with a chronic injury last year and still rocked the casbah. We love Cliff.
But tonight! Tonight they WON! And they won BIG! And guys they'd acquired did AMAZINGLY and Mike Piazza hit a home run and looked hot, which is all I really need. Mike Piazza is totally one of the guys who, if he showed up at my door, I would run off with him, no questions asked. The list includes: Colin Firth. JC Chasez. Joshua Jackson. There are others, of course.
Why Mike Piazza, you ask? Many reasons. He is the best hitting catcher in history! And he's so cute. And, a few years ago, a sportscaster ran into him in the history section of a local bookstore, where Mike was carrying out a pile of books because he's a history buff. He can read! And when all of the other baseball players said Field of Dreams, he named Bull Durham as his favorite movie, and one time, when the team was in Montreal, the team made the rookies get up and sing karaoke, and at the end, he got up himself and sang some Guns and Roses song. I would know the name of the song if I were a cooler person, but I am not. I am actually the kind of person who has spent the past two minutes going, "Is it 'Guns 'n Roses'? Or 'Guns and Roses'? And where do those question marks go in relation to the quotation marks?"
I just. I love him. Am very sad my Mets icon is not a Mike Piazza icon. Not that there's anything wrong with Joe McEwing! I do love Joe.
~~
And that is all.