Sunday, January 21, 2018

An Email To My Brother (1-21-18)

I saw an advertisement for INTRODUCING! The New Glock! It was a HOT DEAL! at $559.99! You know what? It looks just like the OLD Glock.
     Just more expensive.
     I looked carefully at the picture and couldn’t see anything that was new about it. It’s like when Colgate toothpaste advertised “New Colgate! Now With MFP!”
    Well, MFP turned out to stand for “More Fluoride Power.” In other words, it had fluoride, which it always had. There was nothing new about it at all. I guess what PT Barnum said was true:
    There’s one of you born every minute.
 
    I’ve got some bad news.
    I was listening to KROQ’s Kevin & Bean show, and they were talking about how Daryl Strawberry was so sex addicted he would arrange to have sex during baseball games he was playing in.
    Remember those days?
    Not with YOUR Alzheimer’s, you don’t.
    I don’t call it Sex Addiction. I call it Sexual Opportunities. If you’re at work and a cute girl wants to play doctor, you’ll take advantage of that opportunity. It has nothing to do with addiction.
    Masturbate too much? You’re bored. You don't have enough going on in your life.
    Celebrities always claim to be sexually addicted when they get caught cheating on their wives, but it’s really just them being surrounded with a lot of girls who are willing to have sex with them.
 
     Remember our Aunt’s funeral? The one you weren't invited to? Remember how it was said that her eldest son Fredo was stealthily handing out invitations with accompanying directions to his house to only a select few for the private wake afterwards? (The food was delicious, by the way.)
     I know you tried to defend him, but the story continues...
     His wife’s mother died just before Christmas. They kept her cold, and her funeral is tomorrow. His two older sisters are flying in from out of town to attend. Even my wife and I were planning on going because, since it’s on a Saturday, I didn’t have work as an excuse not to go.
     I say “were,” because Fredo called his youngest sister Connie to have her call the rest of the Duchene family to let them know that the wake after the funeral would only be for his wife's family, no one else. His father. Not invited. His younger brothers Sonny and Michael. Not invited. Connie, the one he called to do his dirty work. Not invited. The sisters from out of town. Not invited. Only his wife's family.
     “It’s cheaper that way,” he probably thought, but didn’t say.
     What he DID say was: “We can all go out to eat at a restaurant the day after,” he told Connie to inform the others, but not offering to pick up the tab.
      “Great, I have to pay for a flight AND pay for my own meal to honor a woman I’m not related to?” the two older sisters probably groused. 
     Uncle Vito probably thought, “All those times I used to pound that cake outside in my car at family gatherings, and I can’t go to her wake?”
      In a related story, we were at Michael and his wife's house for Christmas and I was sitting outside with Uncle Vito. Fredo’s eldest son arrived, came outside, and walked right past us, ignoring his grandfather. I know you'll probably want to defend him the way you defended his father Fredo from years before, but there was no way he could miss us because we were sitting right by the door. Ignore me, I could understand, but walking right past his father’s father without even looking at him, I don’t.
     He said hello and started talking to our cousin Connie’s oldest son who works for him as a trainer at the gym he owns. Connie’s daughter also works for him. She’s been there for four years and has never gotten a raise. Your nickel raise back in the 60s that you still complain about all these years later doesn’t seem so bad now, does it? Anyway...
     I went inside, so I don’t know if he said hello to Uncle Vito on his way back into the house.
     In confidence, Uncle Vito has told Michael (who told his wife, who told my wife, who told me) that, “I don’t like that guy.”
     Michael's wife is going to the funeral, but she refuses to go out to eat with Fredo and his wife the next day.
     “You have to go,” Michael told her. “You’re my wife.”
     “I’m not going,” she told him back, digging in her heels. She would have threatened him with not giving him any booty, but she doesn’t do that anyway.
     The Unwanted Duchenes are all going out to eat together by themselves after the funeral. 
 
     By the way, I hear your favorite team the Raiders got a new coach.
     It’s your old coach from the catholic high school you went to:
     Father Haywood Jablomie.

 
   
Raising My Father
RaisingMyFather.BlogSpot.com
JimDuchene.BlogSpot.com  American Chimpanzee
@JimDuchene
 

No comments:

Post a Comment