so the phone rings this morning and it's my father, the shrink. now the shrink called me yesterday too. he told me that he wanted me to come over for dinner last sunday but he couldn't get it together and that's cool, the bastard hasn't been so much with the phone calls to the rents lately, life has been going on around him and it gets busy. the shrink understands this. the shrink is also getting used to the fact that the bastard is dating again (yeah, i meant to tell you that but, i didn't, so there) and that's a good thing.but i digress, so the shrink calls me up this morning and he tells me that the house is sold. i asked, "our house? no wait, grandpa's house."
"that's what your brother said"
well, these things happen. one would think that the natural progression would be that the grand parent's house was the item to be sold but we all kind of want(well i at least kind of want) the rents to move out of their place. the old hood is constantly in flux and one would think that your parents would eventually abandon your childhood home for greener pastures. i guess we'll see about that one day. the mofo tells me that the north fork is where they might go. it's where they go for their anniversary every year. it would be nice that in the face of the family's house sinking into the mud to become the house for some other family. 12 johns will now go away soon just like the family's old headquarters in bellerose. it becomes the stuff of family stories, "remember that time at the big house (what we called the bellerose house) where the three of us argued with the three of them over something stupid that children argue about?" remember misty and bonnie (grandma and grandpa had irish setters), and how they scared the crap out of us? remember that fucking great dane they had at 12 johns and how i tried to ride him like a horse when i was nine? the boat? not the blue one but grandpa's first boat? remember the salty smell on the back lawn in the morning at low tide? yeah, i remember. hell, i couldn't forget.
—the bastard
8 comments:
This is why I don't let you tell stories: You should have prefaced your paraphrase of me as speculation, also, misty and bonnie were a particular type of collie, i forget. Bonnie didn't make it out of Bellerose but misty did, and made almost as long as chico. Although she had a wicked cataract for the last few years.
I'm sorry not collie, Cocker spaniel.
Be strong dude. Rising seas will take care of Queens soon enough anyway. Your parents sold just in time.
working phrase is "might". i like it better than speculation. it has less syllables. and you don't see me editing your stuff.
cocker spaniels grow to be much smaller than misty and bonnie and i know bonnie never went to 12 johns. i was talking about the big house in bellerose.
actually, my parents haven't sold anything of theirs
And most of Queens is the highest point of NYC other than the Bronx, which is the only part of NYC connected to North America.
They weren't setters. I'm sticking to a type of spaniel, for cocker is not the only type. For Instance, there is the Joe Cocker Spaniel. Known for gyrating uncontrollably instead of barking.
i'm going to have to do some digging int the spaniel family but, i still maintain that they were too big to be spaniels.
heh heh heh. you said cock
bonnie and misty were brittany spaniels, not collie's et al. chips was 1/2 lab and 1/2 who knows what
well that settles that
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