Ch 7 Sly complains about Jack and Stephanie’s wedding because they had their wedding AT him

Sly: You should have seen Stephanie and Jack's wedding. Like something out of The Godfather.

Doris: It was such an over the top display of consumption. People showed up at the wedding in curlers! And in velour suits!

That is – something I am not used to. But I also wonder how true it is.

Note to self – sneak into bathroom to message Stephanie.

Sly: There was a horrible dance where men paid money to dance with Stephanie.

Me: Oh! You mean a dollar dance?

Sly: It was in exceptionally poor taste.

Me: No, it’s a pretty common thing in some cultures. I went to a Polish wedding once – it was actually a Polish woman marrying an African American guy, so there were two cultures there, and they did that. It was fun.

Sly: Vulgar.

I am saving my Bear-Poking Allowance, so I don’t ask Sly how that diversity and tolerance thing are working for him.

Primo: Dad, we did that at my wedding, remember? It’s also a Filipino thing. It was a lot of fun. We have that photo of ex-wife and me with dollars pinned to our clothes.

Sly: It’s vulgar.

The house is decorated with a pig theme. Lots of little pig figurines everywhere. Sly’s t-shirt is dirty and his feet are bare, his toenails thick and yellow, his heels cracked and blackened. He boasts to Primo that he hasn’t worn closed toe shoes since they moved to Florida.

Doris isn’t wearing a bra.[1] Her feet were also bare and her toenails are in worse shape than Sly’s.

Wait. I have to go back about Doris and her bra. No, she is not wearing one, but why should she? Why should she be uncomfortable just so she can conform to an external standard in whose setting she was not involved? She looks like an old lady with a large bosom who is not wearing a bra, but so what?

Man, I have got to stop being so judgy. Doris, you rock on with your bra-less 70something self. I take it all back.

But Sly. I will judge Sly. And yes, nobody ever sees the beam in his own eye,[2] but Sly is in no position to be throwing stones, if I may mix my proverbs and parables.

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[1] I can get away with not wearing a bra. Doris cannot.

[2] I am sure there are entire lumberyards in my eyes.