Earth to Grandma
 My
grandmother died yesterday. While it happened rather quickly,
it was not that much of a surprise; still it feels really weird
to think I'll never talk to her again. My dad is in St. Louis
now with our other relatives, putting her affairs in order.
I didn't know it until I spoke with my dad yesterday, but Grandma
Betty had a lot of stipulations concerning her demise. I knew
(because she would constantly remind us) that she did not want
to ever live as a vegetable, hooked up to life support machines.
What I didn't know is she had made arrangements to have her
body donated to the local medical school at Washington University.
Also she didn't want a funeral. I find this fascinating because
I've never wanted a funeral, either. Yet we never discussed
this with each other. I guess it's genetics. But funerals are
depressing and cemeteries take up prime real estate. So despite
the sadness surrounding her passing, I am again reminded that
my little granny was still wicked cool.
Grandma was a serious motormouth. Ever since I was a kid
I remember her launching into anecdotes (from her life, her
children, something she read in TV Guide) at the drop of a
hat, never seeming to care much if anybody was listening.
I'm not sure where she got this from, but maybe when stuff
popped into her head, she wanted to get it out there as soon
as possible, in case she'd forget it later. Because of this,
conversations with her could be frustrating since she'd start
babbling about something my uncle did when he was 12 while
I was trying to tell her about something really important,
like how I was emceeing
a dog costume contest. And it could be frustrating for
her if people interrupted her as well. Then we got her a computer.
In email, Grandma found an outlet for her raconteurism like
no other. It provided her uninterruptible monologue time,
plus the written word allowed her to collect her thoughts
a little more clearly. There was still no rhyme or reason
to what she would write, but this disjointedness was a good
match for the asynchronicity of email. She got an AOL account
and learned how to send mass mailings, so no one would miss
out on her observations.
 The
emails I received from her fell into a few categories: Stories
from the Past, Annoyances with Doctors, Amusing Things that
Happened Today, and Our Evil President Must Be Stopped. The
latter was the most fun for me, since few of my elderly relatives
seem to take much notice of politics. Although a registered
Republican, Grandma Betty never made a secret of her loathing
of W and sent out countless emails about how much she disliked
him. Below is a sampling of both her political vitriol, as
well as some of her random anecdotes, which I feel give a
pretty good indication of her personality. I'm gonna miss
getting these emails.
Our wonderful president should be tried for murder.
Here is an idea: When they make another Mars Rover attach
Dubya and he can make a little hut.
In today's news they are saying about kids using cough
medicine to get high. I think it must be 50 years ago when
Sally [my aunt] worked at Milburgs' Pharmacy - 50 years?
Sally and the pharmacist had take the cough medicine off
the shelf. This is News?
I do not believe I will stay sane for the 216 dates until
the election with all these spin doctors--and they said
that Missouri and St Louis is VERY important for the eeeeeeeelection
so we will get more than any other state!--------------I
may just take the batteries out of my hearing aids!
I think George W. read (or had someone read it to him)
his Daddy's book where he said he did not go after Saddam
Hussein because it would be messy like it is and figured
he could do it and all the people of Iraq would welcome
him with open arms.
Apropos of nothing at all: On the today show they showed
clothing that is absolutely waterproof. When wash and wear
came out our cousin Richard Smith took a shower in his.
Hurrah!!! At last people are talking against the "war".
I heard a very early Chris Matthew's program (with panelist)
and they spoke as if Bush was a shoe-in. I was very nauseous.
As I said before the president should be tried for murder.
Posted By Jimmy Legs
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Hey,
who's gonna be here next weekend? I think we're finally gonna
have a barbecue that people know about more than an hour in
advance. I can't think of a theme for it besides "fuck
the mulberries" so we're just going ahead with the basic
BBQ paradigm. To that end, we gotta do a lotta work on the yard.
We can't do much about the mulberries but with any luck by next
week the tree will have exhausted itself.
The
main project for the week will be erecting a fence to replace
the "fence" that separates our yard from the boarded-up
crackhouse next door. It's just a piece of plywood and it's
disintegrating. It somehow escaped my memory that we've had
some fairly nice fence panels stored on the side of the house
for years, but for some reason never thought to use them.
If I play my cards right, we'll have a partial fence for the
BBQ, thus making our yard look at least a little more presentable.
The panels were stored in the small space between our house
and the neighbors, and it was filled with junk. Cleaning it
out has deprived the cats of a way to climb onto the roof.
I'm not sure why this concerns me much, but I spent a long
time yesterday building some shelves in the little alleyway
so they'd be able to get up there more easily. I guess it's
all a way of giving the cats something to do besides bug me.
I think that's a large part of cat ownership.
I
spent hours on Friday trying to clean up all the mulberry gunk
off the back patio, only to have strong winds shake out an equal
amount of effluvia from the evil tree. And so of course I scooped
them up again. Sisyphus was a wussy.
Nobody
who lives in Brooklyn knows where anything is. If you're lost
in this borough, find a tourist, they have maps! The Hook
was especially nice because it was a smaller show, so it wasn't
packed. And they broke out the grill and gave everybody hot
dogs! Also we met Tim, formerly of 
Tracy
had her lovely housewarming party, and MRK ate all the mini-cannolis.
The boys of 
