Next Saturday... or is it?
I knew this one would be a multi-dayer, but again, there's just a whole lot going on, which means there's a whole lot on my mind, and this is a good way for me to work through it. So. It's quarter to 7 in the evening. It is grey outside. It is cold outside, and it is going to get quite cold tonight. I stayed up too late last night watching Netflix, but not ridiculously so, was up at a quasi-decent hour to help my parents with the washing machine (they don't move themselves down a flight of stairs into the basement, y'know), chilled over there for a couple hours, and have been doing laundry, dishes, baking bread, going through the mail, and as things start to wind down a bit, this. Part of me wants to put on pants (I'm wearing shorts right now, because I don't tread on the cuffs when I'm puttering around the house not wearing shoes), and take the full thing of paper up to St. Vincent. Part of me says I'll do that tomorrow, but that other part of me is all like, if you don't do it now, you're going to find the bin being full to be an excuse when you decide you might want to start going through some of the old papers... Yeah. Because that's how I roll. At least I know my own head.
So. This thing with gran-gran. Which I never actually called her, but it kind of works, it's sort of a tongue-in-cheek reference to like some stereotypical shrew of a grandmother on a TV show. Thing is, the snarky, catty, pettiness, that was basically Jessica Walter's character in Arrested Development. I mean, seriously. They're both mean, plotting, vindictive, smart, shrewd, I mean, it does go on. And you actually can't be that kind of a terrible evil bitch if you're not. You can't effectively get under people's skin if you're not smart, and shrewd about it. The difference is that Jessica Walter's character was funny, both because of, well, let's face it, excellent acting coupled with good writing, but also, I think, the fact that it was a parody of itself. Like, NOBODY could be THAT oblivious to the suffering of others, nobody could be that cold, nobody could be that damned selfish! But ah, what is this? Ladies and gentlemen, my grandmother! Oh, I'd introduce you, I would, but she's somewhere between a freezer drawer in the morgue at Wayne State, and her final resting place at Oakland Hills, in the Wayne State plot. I have no fucking idea where, you see, because her family wasn't at all involved in her final disposition.
Here's the thing (and I feel like I'm typing that a lot)... Part of this comes from a place of hurt. For better or for worse, my grandmother is dead. That's... kind of a big deal. Like, really, kind of a big deal. And the circumstances were just so fucked up around all of it, but that ties into the other part of this, which is that she was, really, really really, an unhappy, mean, selfish person. There are a whole lot of other descriptives I could sprinkle out of the shaker here; I won't do it, but yeah. When I sit here and say "she's poking clinkers in hell", again, part of it, I'm angry and sad, but the other part of it, well, I'm sitting here and I can't answer the question with any certainty whatsoever... Oh, your grandma went to Heaven, of course she did... Umm, but did she? I mean, that's what I would like to believe, and believe without question or fail, but really here, did she? And we can add that to the Big List of Things that People with Normal Familes Don't Have To Deal With when their Grandmother Dies. Yeah, I know, there's really no such thing as a normal family, I totally get that, but you see what I'm saying here, yeah?
But getting back to it, I find myself at a loss, because I am occasionally forgetting that she is dead. I keep meaning to ask the rest of my family about this, but then, I am almost certain that the answer will be yes. You see, it is a very strange experience, and it's twofold. Like most things, apparently; that's another phrase that I feel like I am writing a whole awful lot. Of course, there's the aforementioned lack of closure. But then we combine that with the fact that it's not like I was making weekly phone calls, or going out there every other Saturday, or anything like that. We had drifted further and further apart over time. It's not anything that I intended to happen, I think part of it is because that's just what happens when you grow up and get married, you have your own family to look after and spend time with, do things for, so on, and so on. And of course, the other part of it is that she was just really a terribly mean, miserable, mean-spirited person, and I have been realizing more and more with time that I don't just have to stand by and put up with that shit. I am too damn nice, and work too damn hard to make a positive impact on this old world during the limited time I have on it (in the grand scheme of things, that is, I am healthy and plan on just all kinds of longevity) for all that mess. So, it's not like I all of a sudden find myself missing Sunday dinner at Big Momma's house, or anything of the like. It's more subtle. Much more subtle. Hey, I've got this new Jeep truck that I have like always freaking wanted, I can't wait to take her for a ride in it, don't know how she's going to get up in it since it doesn't have any... oh. Oh yeah, that's right... Hmm, I really owe Grandma a visit, it's been quite a while. I've got plans next weekend, but maybe on the way back home from my seminar in Mt. Pleasant, I could swing by and... oh yeah, my bad... I wonder if Grandma's ever been to Boodles; we can't go to Pasquale's anymore since they closed down, but maybe I could make some reservations and then bring her down to... no, I really can't do that, can I?
Now, annoyingly, another part of the problem is that every time this happens, and I suddenly realize that, oh yeah, she's dead, my anger response kicks in, and goes ahead and poo-poos the idea. We could go to Lucky's in the Jeep... but then, she'll bitch about how bumpy the ride is, and make a big deal out of getting in and out of it. I should go out there... but then she'll just make me feel like shit because I haven't been out there for a while. She would like Boodles, and of course, they've got lobster... but it's rather intimate, which means she'd find it crowded and too noisy, and all she'd do is bitch about it. Now, this isn't sour grapes. It's not. It's reality. And I suppose it's my mind trying to remind me, after the momentary shock of "you know your grandma's dead, right?!?", that she really was a miserable lady. Putting it simply, and I think I've covered this before, ask me the question, "do you miss her?", and I... hmm. I'm not happy she's dead. At least, I don't think. No, I'm sure I'm not happy, but yes, there is a part of me that is glad that she is finally at rest. I suppose because I couldn't see it getting any better. I don't think it was getting any worse, but she was just miserable, and she was going to be miserable. A long, long life of being miserable. I don't know. It's a lot of stuff that I'm still attempting to work through. And I say "attempting", because I'm sure not there yet. It's coming in little waves, which is good, it means that I'm dealing with it in my own way, but still. Do you miss your grandmother shouldn't even be a yes or no question, there is only one answer to that question... Or at least, there's supposed to be only one answer to that question.
Being that, despite everything, I am relatively certain she was NOT the devil, I then find myself wondering just what a piece of shit I must be. And rationally, I know I'm not, but it's like... It's like I don't feel like I am permitted, in any way, to feel any kind of hurt for the way she treated me, and the people I love. For the way she handled my grandfather's legacy. There is so much that I am perfectly justified in feeling hurt about, but again, for some reason, it's like I'm not supposed to feel that way. Like I'm the one with the problem. Figure that one out, for crying out loud! But then, there's really nothing TO figure out. It's all part of the discordance between what was supposed to happen in this situation, and what actually happened. When your grandmother dies, there is no call for you to be saying anything but a drippy eulogy about what a wonderful person she was. Nothing more, nothing less. But that's not an option. Besides pulling the Delores Umbridge card (I must not tell lies), we also have the very obvious problem wherein there is nowhere to deliver a damn eulogy, because there was no funeral, no wake, no luncheon, no Mass, no Methodist service, no viewing, no death notice, absolutely no nay never nothing, period, zip, nada, the end, that's all, case closed.
Don't you understand, I already have a plan... I'm waiting for my real life to begin...
So, I just found out a little while ago, and for reference, it is now 11:00 PM, I did indeed take the papers up to St. Vincent, two loaves of bread are cooling, I've eaten dinner, caught up on Gutfeld to about the middle of the Friday show, and the last load of towels is in the dryer... But anyway. I just found out that Councilman, nay, Mayor Pro Tem Corbett has died. And that actually bums me out a little bit. Now, understand, I've been pretty much on a "vote the bums out" bent ever since Donald Trump showed us that outsiders can make a difference if they are given the opportunity. I'm not a fan of the "career politician", because it seems like while they are busy being an "establishment", all they are doing is running for reelection and looking to boost their emoluments as much as humanly possible, whether ethical, legal, or not... But Bob was really the quintessential adult in the room. Like, I would have supported a run for mayor. As much as I detested the little shamrock with the word "Democrat" above the name on his yard signs (way to be non-partisan, Bob), well, couple things here; he was an old-school working-class democrat, and he was also the much-needed voice of reason... He was the one who stood up and said that proclamations and resolutions that didn't accomplish anything were, in fact, and with all due respect, a waste of time; they cost staff time to prepare, and were nothing but "feel-good legislation". Things like that. Statements that were absolutely and actually the truth, whether it was what you wanted to hear or not. And I sure as hell didn't agree with everything that he brought up, supported, or even stood for, but the man was generally a class-act, he was a gentleman, and he was, again, the adult in the room. And boy howdy, there have been a great many times where an adult has been needed in that room. Hmm... I wonder if we're going to be naming something after him now that he's gone. Would not surprise me if that was the case. But yeah. He is someone I will actually miss. He took his duty as a public servant seriously, and he did it well. And politics and other BS aside, that is something that I can absolutely respect. Rest in peace, Bob; God knows you've earned it.
Now, not to go right into "bastard" territory... but I gotta say, and it's directly related to my point about voting the bums out, this right here brings up the issue with these career politicians. The ones who have been in office FOR FREAKING EVER, so long, in fact, that they up and die in office, because they're a thousand years old! And please don't get me wrong; near as I can figure, Corbett was only pushing 70, same as Gettings. Gettings seemed a lot older though, but he had been in poor health for a whole. Based on that, the point isn't quite as apt as I was heading toward, but I'm going to go with it anyway... Understand that people can get sick and die, and it can happen unexpectedly. I suspect I know what happened to Corbett; there were a lot of signs that were all pointing in the same direction, but that's neither here nor there. I get that. But you look at John Dingell, Carl Levin, and there are countless others, representatives and members of our government that have not only been in office for as long as I've been alive, but are also old as fuck. And I'm not sitting here being age-ist, I really am not, but I mean, look at Joe Biden! That man should not be president (and I mean, just, on so many levels), but he is absolutely past it. There are those older people who manage to keep their wits, manage to keep their constitution, I mean, look at Betty White. Sharp as a tack, and still getting around, until she didn't anymore. Go her, and more power to her. But for every Betty White, well, there's a Joe Biden, the man can't cross a room without taking a nap, and he won't remember where the hell he is when he wakes up. My point is, it seems like there are very few people, once in government, who actually bow out gracefully on their own. If you step down a year or two before death, I mean, how effective were you up to that point? How effective had you been your last two terms? Like, I'm really not going for gallows humor here, I'm not, but I mean, at what point would you realize that you can't do this job anymore, that you're missing meetings, that you're days are numbered, whatever the case may be, and step down, allowing someone else who can actually do the damn job to do it, while you focus on what time you have left, or bolstering any quality of life that you still have available to you... To me, not doing so does not spell a sense of dedication, but instead, stubbornness, and intransigence.
I am getting tired, and am unsure of exactly what I want to do tomorrow. It'll either be a whole bunch of stuff around the house, I mean, a real whip'round, or I'm going to go on a long drive. I don't know yet. Maybe a combination of both? I dunno. But it's time to be getting off of here. Still to come, thoughts on the ongoing situation in Europe as they relate to things at home, cancel/woke culture, and so on.
So. This thing with gran-gran. Which I never actually called her, but it kind of works, it's sort of a tongue-in-cheek reference to like some stereotypical shrew of a grandmother on a TV show. Thing is, the snarky, catty, pettiness, that was basically Jessica Walter's character in Arrested Development. I mean, seriously. They're both mean, plotting, vindictive, smart, shrewd, I mean, it does go on. And you actually can't be that kind of a terrible evil bitch if you're not. You can't effectively get under people's skin if you're not smart, and shrewd about it. The difference is that Jessica Walter's character was funny, both because of, well, let's face it, excellent acting coupled with good writing, but also, I think, the fact that it was a parody of itself. Like, NOBODY could be THAT oblivious to the suffering of others, nobody could be that cold, nobody could be that damned selfish! But ah, what is this? Ladies and gentlemen, my grandmother! Oh, I'd introduce you, I would, but she's somewhere between a freezer drawer in the morgue at Wayne State, and her final resting place at Oakland Hills, in the Wayne State plot. I have no fucking idea where, you see, because her family wasn't at all involved in her final disposition.
Here's the thing (and I feel like I'm typing that a lot)... Part of this comes from a place of hurt. For better or for worse, my grandmother is dead. That's... kind of a big deal. Like, really, kind of a big deal. And the circumstances were just so fucked up around all of it, but that ties into the other part of this, which is that she was, really, really really, an unhappy, mean, selfish person. There are a whole lot of other descriptives I could sprinkle out of the shaker here; I won't do it, but yeah. When I sit here and say "she's poking clinkers in hell", again, part of it, I'm angry and sad, but the other part of it, well, I'm sitting here and I can't answer the question with any certainty whatsoever... Oh, your grandma went to Heaven, of course she did... Umm, but did she? I mean, that's what I would like to believe, and believe without question or fail, but really here, did she? And we can add that to the Big List of Things that People with Normal Familes Don't Have To Deal With when their Grandmother Dies. Yeah, I know, there's really no such thing as a normal family, I totally get that, but you see what I'm saying here, yeah?
But getting back to it, I find myself at a loss, because I am occasionally forgetting that she is dead. I keep meaning to ask the rest of my family about this, but then, I am almost certain that the answer will be yes. You see, it is a very strange experience, and it's twofold. Like most things, apparently; that's another phrase that I feel like I am writing a whole awful lot. Of course, there's the aforementioned lack of closure. But then we combine that with the fact that it's not like I was making weekly phone calls, or going out there every other Saturday, or anything like that. We had drifted further and further apart over time. It's not anything that I intended to happen, I think part of it is because that's just what happens when you grow up and get married, you have your own family to look after and spend time with, do things for, so on, and so on. And of course, the other part of it is that she was just really a terribly mean, miserable, mean-spirited person, and I have been realizing more and more with time that I don't just have to stand by and put up with that shit. I am too damn nice, and work too damn hard to make a positive impact on this old world during the limited time I have on it (in the grand scheme of things, that is, I am healthy and plan on just all kinds of longevity) for all that mess. So, it's not like I all of a sudden find myself missing Sunday dinner at Big Momma's house, or anything of the like. It's more subtle. Much more subtle. Hey, I've got this new Jeep truck that I have like always freaking wanted, I can't wait to take her for a ride in it, don't know how she's going to get up in it since it doesn't have any... oh. Oh yeah, that's right... Hmm, I really owe Grandma a visit, it's been quite a while. I've got plans next weekend, but maybe on the way back home from my seminar in Mt. Pleasant, I could swing by and... oh yeah, my bad... I wonder if Grandma's ever been to Boodles; we can't go to Pasquale's anymore since they closed down, but maybe I could make some reservations and then bring her down to... no, I really can't do that, can I?
Now, annoyingly, another part of the problem is that every time this happens, and I suddenly realize that, oh yeah, she's dead, my anger response kicks in, and goes ahead and poo-poos the idea. We could go to Lucky's in the Jeep... but then, she'll bitch about how bumpy the ride is, and make a big deal out of getting in and out of it. I should go out there... but then she'll just make me feel like shit because I haven't been out there for a while. She would like Boodles, and of course, they've got lobster... but it's rather intimate, which means she'd find it crowded and too noisy, and all she'd do is bitch about it. Now, this isn't sour grapes. It's not. It's reality. And I suppose it's my mind trying to remind me, after the momentary shock of "you know your grandma's dead, right?!?", that she really was a miserable lady. Putting it simply, and I think I've covered this before, ask me the question, "do you miss her?", and I... hmm. I'm not happy she's dead. At least, I don't think. No, I'm sure I'm not happy, but yes, there is a part of me that is glad that she is finally at rest. I suppose because I couldn't see it getting any better. I don't think it was getting any worse, but she was just miserable, and she was going to be miserable. A long, long life of being miserable. I don't know. It's a lot of stuff that I'm still attempting to work through. And I say "attempting", because I'm sure not there yet. It's coming in little waves, which is good, it means that I'm dealing with it in my own way, but still. Do you miss your grandmother shouldn't even be a yes or no question, there is only one answer to that question... Or at least, there's supposed to be only one answer to that question.
Being that, despite everything, I am relatively certain she was NOT the devil, I then find myself wondering just what a piece of shit I must be. And rationally, I know I'm not, but it's like... It's like I don't feel like I am permitted, in any way, to feel any kind of hurt for the way she treated me, and the people I love. For the way she handled my grandfather's legacy. There is so much that I am perfectly justified in feeling hurt about, but again, for some reason, it's like I'm not supposed to feel that way. Like I'm the one with the problem. Figure that one out, for crying out loud! But then, there's really nothing TO figure out. It's all part of the discordance between what was supposed to happen in this situation, and what actually happened. When your grandmother dies, there is no call for you to be saying anything but a drippy eulogy about what a wonderful person she was. Nothing more, nothing less. But that's not an option. Besides pulling the Delores Umbridge card (I must not tell lies), we also have the very obvious problem wherein there is nowhere to deliver a damn eulogy, because there was no funeral, no wake, no luncheon, no Mass, no Methodist service, no viewing, no death notice, absolutely no nay never nothing, period, zip, nada, the end, that's all, case closed.
Don't you understand, I already have a plan... I'm waiting for my real life to begin...
So, I just found out a little while ago, and for reference, it is now 11:00 PM, I did indeed take the papers up to St. Vincent, two loaves of bread are cooling, I've eaten dinner, caught up on Gutfeld to about the middle of the Friday show, and the last load of towels is in the dryer... But anyway. I just found out that Councilman, nay, Mayor Pro Tem Corbett has died. And that actually bums me out a little bit. Now, understand, I've been pretty much on a "vote the bums out" bent ever since Donald Trump showed us that outsiders can make a difference if they are given the opportunity. I'm not a fan of the "career politician", because it seems like while they are busy being an "establishment", all they are doing is running for reelection and looking to boost their emoluments as much as humanly possible, whether ethical, legal, or not... But Bob was really the quintessential adult in the room. Like, I would have supported a run for mayor. As much as I detested the little shamrock with the word "Democrat" above the name on his yard signs (way to be non-partisan, Bob), well, couple things here; he was an old-school working-class democrat, and he was also the much-needed voice of reason... He was the one who stood up and said that proclamations and resolutions that didn't accomplish anything were, in fact, and with all due respect, a waste of time; they cost staff time to prepare, and were nothing but "feel-good legislation". Things like that. Statements that were absolutely and actually the truth, whether it was what you wanted to hear or not. And I sure as hell didn't agree with everything that he brought up, supported, or even stood for, but the man was generally a class-act, he was a gentleman, and he was, again, the adult in the room. And boy howdy, there have been a great many times where an adult has been needed in that room. Hmm... I wonder if we're going to be naming something after him now that he's gone. Would not surprise me if that was the case. But yeah. He is someone I will actually miss. He took his duty as a public servant seriously, and he did it well. And politics and other BS aside, that is something that I can absolutely respect. Rest in peace, Bob; God knows you've earned it.
Now, not to go right into "bastard" territory... but I gotta say, and it's directly related to my point about voting the bums out, this right here brings up the issue with these career politicians. The ones who have been in office FOR FREAKING EVER, so long, in fact, that they up and die in office, because they're a thousand years old! And please don't get me wrong; near as I can figure, Corbett was only pushing 70, same as Gettings. Gettings seemed a lot older though, but he had been in poor health for a whole. Based on that, the point isn't quite as apt as I was heading toward, but I'm going to go with it anyway... Understand that people can get sick and die, and it can happen unexpectedly. I suspect I know what happened to Corbett; there were a lot of signs that were all pointing in the same direction, but that's neither here nor there. I get that. But you look at John Dingell, Carl Levin, and there are countless others, representatives and members of our government that have not only been in office for as long as I've been alive, but are also old as fuck. And I'm not sitting here being age-ist, I really am not, but I mean, look at Joe Biden! That man should not be president (and I mean, just, on so many levels), but he is absolutely past it. There are those older people who manage to keep their wits, manage to keep their constitution, I mean, look at Betty White. Sharp as a tack, and still getting around, until she didn't anymore. Go her, and more power to her. But for every Betty White, well, there's a Joe Biden, the man can't cross a room without taking a nap, and he won't remember where the hell he is when he wakes up. My point is, it seems like there are very few people, once in government, who actually bow out gracefully on their own. If you step down a year or two before death, I mean, how effective were you up to that point? How effective had you been your last two terms? Like, I'm really not going for gallows humor here, I'm not, but I mean, at what point would you realize that you can't do this job anymore, that you're missing meetings, that you're days are numbered, whatever the case may be, and step down, allowing someone else who can actually do the damn job to do it, while you focus on what time you have left, or bolstering any quality of life that you still have available to you... To me, not doing so does not spell a sense of dedication, but instead, stubbornness, and intransigence.
I am getting tired, and am unsure of exactly what I want to do tomorrow. It'll either be a whole bunch of stuff around the house, I mean, a real whip'round, or I'm going to go on a long drive. I don't know yet. Maybe a combination of both? I dunno. But it's time to be getting off of here. Still to come, thoughts on the ongoing situation in Europe as they relate to things at home, cancel/woke culture, and so on.