ptooey, he said...

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

How Ponce de León Had it Wrong

Last week, I was forwarded a link to a fairly fascinating video on Youtube. It was a moving Japanese video, with subtitles, about a dog. The video itself was good enough, but one of the phrases in the subtitles has stuck with me well beyond the context of the video itself -

"Why am I always a child?"


For the last 6+ years, I have had a similar thought running through my head with respect to my late brother. I've never been able to put it so eloquently, but the subtitle in that piece nailed it. That's how I feel most robbed by my brother's death.

When that drunk plowed into the car he was riding in, he not only took the life that my brother had at the time, but any life he would have in the future. If that sounds confusing to you, believe me, it's much worse for me. You see, in our minds now, he will always be 20 years old. We have no frame of reference as to what he might have become, and that makes me feel cheated. His image will never change. In a sense, he will always be a child. We will never have known him otherwise, and can't even begin to guess what he would have been like at 25 or 40.

When standing in front of the court at his sentencing, the man responsible for my brother's (and the 7 other young men's) deaths, he asked all of the families for forgiveness. The sheer enormity of the consequences of his actions is what makes it absolutely impossible for me to forgive him. Eight would-be men will always be children. Forever.

Sunday, December 09, 2007

A Goodbye

Grandpa Ernie passed away early yesterday afternoon. He was over 93 years old.

He had moved to a full-service nursing home from an assisted living center in October. At the time, they made it clear that he would no longer be able to smoke his pipe. Alcohol was not allowed in the nursing home.

I remain convinced that it was the lack of tobacco and bourbon that did him in.


Rest in peace, sir.

Friday, December 07, 2007

Storms on Different Fronts

It's ramping up to be somewhat of a strange day here in ptooeyland. We're under a winter storm warning, with up to 14" of snow predicted. As you might expect, work is a bit slower than usual, due to the weather.

The in-laws are in town for a conference, which always adds to the normal confusion. It's been a whale of a week so far, and I'd like nothing more than to just kick back in front of a fire this evening with a glass of bourbon and a movie, but instead it looks like we'll be entertaining them. Okay.

Unfortunately, the general mood is tempered by the fact that we're sort of on deathwatch. hiccup's grandpa is not doing well. It's not unexpected, he's very old and has been failing for a few months now. But, these situations, however much you're prepared for them, are never fun. hiccup's parents are very strange about keeping her out of the loop with respect to her grandpa's health (or lack thereof.) She always has to pump them for info, and these conversations often leave her feeling less informed than before. I don't know why they feel the need to shelter her from the info, she's 35 years old for FSM's sake. I think some of the secrecy has to do with THE INHERITANCE. hiccup's grandpa changed his will a few years ago. Originally, hiccup was to get 1/3 of his estate, her aunt was to get 1/3, and her parents were to get 1/3. As it now reads, hiccup's mom gets 100%.

hiccup's aunt is, for lack of a better term, a complete loon. She has never held a job. For the last 16 years, she's gotten by on money she received after the death of her first husband. She has almost zero social skills, and doesn't know thing one about how to interact with people in general. Her only contacts with us during the last 10 years or so have been strange, rambling letters which inevitably end up on the subject of THE INHERITANCE. They are usually plays for sympathy or pleas for solidarity, as hiccup was also struck from the will.

Neither hiccup nor I could give a flying flip about THE INHERITANCE. Our hope was that he would live long enough to spend every penny of it. As it turns out, that doesn't look likely. He is fairly wealthy, and up until just a few months ago was living exclusively on the interest from his investments. hiccup's parents are not good with money, and it will be gone after they get their mitts on it. That's all fine and good, but I just don't want to deal with the inevitable animosity from hiccup's crazy aunt. I hope that the aunt will just buck up and deal with it, but I strongly doubt that will be the case.

What has been lost in all of the hubbub over money is that hiccup's grandpa will not be with us much longer. He is a very likable old gent, and we will miss him. He has been catatonic for about a week now, and is receiving supportive care only at this point. He is in no pain, and is peaceful. That's what's important.

So, I guess I'll save that glass of bourbon. I'll raise it to Grandpa Ernie sometime.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

duh duh duh duhduhduhduh

One of C's classmates is named Bryce. C was telling us the other night that her teacher will often say "Bryce, Bryce, Baby" when calling on her, etc. Obviously, the 8 year olds don't really get the joke. C asked us to explain.

hiccup did her best, saying that there was this really good song, and that someone else came along years later and used parts of it to make a really bad song. And the title and chorus of that second song was "Ice, Ice Baby."

C accepted this explanation. A asked to hear the first song. We played her Under Pressure (which she like a lot). After the song was done, she looked thoughtful, then asked "Will we ever hear the song from that other guy? The guy who stole the song?"



I don't know that this will continue to be A's quote blog, but I can't compete with material like that.

Monday, December 03, 2007

I Am at Once Afraid of and Intrigued by the Future

The youngest daughter has been on a roll lately. A few examples of her latest exhcanges are as follows:

A: Mom, why did the chicken cross the road?
hiccup: I don't know. Why did the chicken cross the road?
A: I don't know.
hiccup: What?
A: I honestly don't know. I'm just trying to find out.

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me: A, pick your head up off of the dinner table.
A: But I'm absolutely exhausted.
me: Go get ready for bed, then.
A: Picks her head up just long enough to shake her fork at me, then lays her head back down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Her equally precocious friend G was visiting yesterday. I was sitting on the couch watching a football game as the two little girls crossed through the living room on the way to A's room. They were having some sort of discussion (I never asked what the subject was). Bear in mind, they're both a few months short of 5 years old.

G: Well, technically speaking, it's not actually mine.
A: Technically speaking, no. But can you use it?
G: Of course!