Ch 1 Sly tells Primo about his Viagra and we are both grossed out because it is so inappropriate

After dinner, I excuse myself with my headache and go to bed to read (and to write all this stuff down before I forget). Primo stays with his mom and dad to play cribbage.

An hour later, he slips into the guest room.

Me: Get out! You can’t sleep here with me. It’s too weird.

Primo: But I have to tell you this! Guess what my dad showed me just now?

Me: I couldn’t possibly begin to guess.

Primo: He showed me his Viagra! He bragged about it.

Me: Oh gross. I didn’t need to hear that. Why did he tell you?

Primo: I don’t know. Maybe he wanted me to know that he can still get busy.

Me: Did you want to know that?

Primo: Not particularly.

Me: Does your dad have any boundaries?

Primo: He doesn’t have anyone else to confide in.

Me: Why does he need to confide to anyone about this?

Primo: They don’t have any friends. They don’t have anyone to talk to.

Me: Not your job, honey. That’s not your problem and your parents should not be telling you things like this. Nobody wants to know this stuff about their parents. Nobody.

Primo: Well, what about this? My dad says that circumcising me was a mistake. He regrets letting them circumcise me and my brothers.

Look! Squirrel!

Me: Well, I do think it's mutilation. If I had boys, I would be against it and would not want to have it done.

We digress and discuss the issue, pros and cons.

Primo: Maybe it's not such a bad thing. My dad[1] says that he has problems with –

Me: Stop! I do not want to hear about your dad's penis!

Primo: But –

Me: No! I mean it! Do not talk about your dad’s penis with me!

Primo: OK.

Me: Hey. I don’t understand your mom and dad. When they talk about Ted and Jack, why don’t they just say “brother?” Why do they say “half-brother?”

Primo: It’s not like I grew up with them.

Me: Yeah, but they are your brothers, right?

Primo: Half-brothers.

Me: That’s a lot to say. It’s easier to say “brothers” than “half-brothers.”

Primo: They want to distance me from them.

Me: Why?

Primo: My dad has told me that Ted and Jack are a great disappointment to him.

Me: He told you that your brothers are a disappointment to him? He complained about one kid to the other kid?

Primo: Two kids. He complained about two kids to one kid. Yes.

Me: You know what I meant. Your dad’s not exactly the poster child for parenting, is he?

Primo: You mean your mom has never complained about your brother and sister to you?

Me: Nope. My dad never did and my mom never has. How do you know your dad doesn’t trash talk you to them?

Primo: I don’t know. Maybe they do.

Me: How are they disappointing? What’s so bad about them, other than being pompous and not eating leftovers?

Primo: Ted hasn’t held a steady job in decades. He says he’s a movie producer, but I have never seen any movie he has produced. I don’t know if he actually has done any.

Me: How does he live?

Primo: His wife has a good job.

Me: What about Jack? What did he do wrong?

Primo: When my mom and dad moved here, they suggested that Jack and Stephanie move as well. They wanted the kids out of Philadelphia. Jack was working for the school district, but he’s a chef and has always wanted to open his own restaurant.

Me: That’s cool! Very risky, but cool.

Primo: Yes to the risky part. My mom and dad were the major investors in the restaurant but it failed. They lost a lot of money. Jack and Stephanie got divorced. It has been a rough few years. They are really angry with Jack because the restaurant failed.

Me: But – they knew the risk they were taking, right? I mean, I am not a restaurant person but I know just off the top of my head that restaurants are one of the riskiest businesses to get into.

Primo: I doubt it. My dad thinks he is the smartest man in the room, so he probably didn’t do any research. He probably thought that just because Jack is a good cook – which he is – he is an excellent chef – that he could run a successful restaurant.

Me: Ouch. That does not necessarily follow.

Primo: I know. I was not involved in this decision. But they are super ticked off about it.

---

[1] Sly is, I gather, not circumcised, which is far more than I want to know about that issue.

Ch 1 We finally eat supper but it’s way too late to stop my migraine

Did I mention that? That I am getting a migraine because I haven’t eaten?

I think I did.

It’s my own stupid fault for not having brought Emergency Food. I should never have assumed that being a guest in someone’s home meant that that someone would provide meals.

By 7:30, when we finally have supper, my stomach is full of Bad Cheese, but I still have a headache. I finally give up and excuse myself for a moment, but when I get into the bedroom, which is where my purse and my Imitrex are, I realize that I don’t have my Swiss army knife with me because I have been on a plane and I for once remembered to remove the knife from my purse before leaving the house so I wouldn’t 

1.      Lose the knife or

2.      Have to run back to guest services and prepare an envelope for the nice volunteer to mail to me on her way home (after buying something – anything but coffee or liquid – at the Starbuck’s outside of security so I can break a $20 bill and give the volunteer the money for the postage)

My doctor writes the prescription for the largest Imitrex possible – 100 mg – and then I cut it into smaller pieces to take it. I get only nine tablets a month, regardless of size.

I take the pillbox into the kitchen, where I find a paring knife. I try to cut a quarter of the pill off the end, but the paring knife is so dull that it smashes the $20 tablet instead of slicing it. I watch most of $20 worth of prescription drug turn into dust and scatter on the counter with the cat hair and coffee grounds.

No matter. It’s still the drug. I pick out the cat hair and the grounds and sweep the dust into my mouth. My people do not waste.

I return to the table, the pillbox in my pocket, and try to pretend to be interested in the conversation. I poke at the food on my plate while Sly and Doris talk to Primo, ignoring me. The conversation continues along the same lines as before: All the stupid people, including Stephanie, who are ruining life for Sly.

I force myself to take a few bites. Who knows when the next meal might come? I also make a mental note to escape the next day to a grocery store – there is some advantage to having the rental car – so I can buy some snacks to hide in my suitcase. I should have slipped some cheese and crackers into a napkin and stuffed them into my purse.

Ch 1 Sly thinks everyone else but him is stupid, which means his life must be so, so hard

 I finally have a chance to ask Primo about his dad when Doris leaves to start supper and Sly turns on the TV news.

Oh! Did you think Sly was going to help Doris with supper?

No! That is not happening! Preparing food is women’s work!

Me: What’s the deal with your dad? He’s convinced that there is no valid opinion but his. Is anyone who disagrees with him stupid by definition? Is he not capable of a rational discussion? Can’t there be a quiet, calm conversation about an issue without someone having to be labeled stupid or idiotic?

Primo: Nope. Only stupid people disagree with him. That’s the only logical reason for someone who doesn’t think the way my dad does. Come here. I want to show you something.

He leads me into his dad’s office, which contains a futon (no, I don’t know why and I really don’t know why Primo couldn’t sleep there if the spare room is too much hassle), two computers, and a lot of books and boxes of books and books stacked on top of each other. Books Sly had paid to move from Pittsburgh to Florida and hey, it’s his money, but dude, if you are retired, do you need to keep all of your professional books?

Primo: Look at this. 

He points to a framed cartoon hanging on the wall. It shows a man with a big nose, nose in the air, saying, “I’m not arrogant! I just happen to be right!” Only the “I’m” and “I” are covered by small pieces of paper taped on the glass that says, “We’re” and “We.”

Primo: I found this at a crafts fair. I laughed because it was my dad. He always raises his nose and sniffs like that. And he is so arrogant! Everyone else is always wrong. He won’t even consider other opinions. I bought it and had it framed and mailed it to him for his birthday. I thought he would think it was funny.

Me: Except your dad doesn’t seem to have a sense of humor, at least not about himself.

Primo: Nope. My mom said he got really mad when he opened it, so she taped the corrections on the glass. I’m surprised he just didn’t throw it away, but my mom probably wouldn’t let him. She thinks it’s really funny.

Me: Do your parents always cuss like that?

Primo: What do you mean?

Me: I mean the cussing! I mean their potty mouths! It’s not like I’m perfect, but I don’t talk like that in front of people I don’t know.

Primo: I never noticed.

Me: They cuss. I don’t know how you can’t notice. You don’t talk like that. You must have noticed at some point.

He shrugs. I guess he is immune.

Ch 1 I am GRATEFUL now that we rented a car and didn’t have to spend an hour trapped in Sly and Doris’ car listening to them complain

If they had picked us up from the airport, we would have had to listen to Sly and Doris talk about Stephanie, AKA Satan Incarnate, the entire time. They really hate her. Maybe she’s an awful person.

Ch 1 Sly and Doris continue criticizing Stupid People and I wonder how long before I am put on that list

 The conversation moves to Those Stupid Creationists.

Let me go on record that I don’t believe in creationism, but how one regards the beginnings of the earth is pretty irrelevant to everyday life. I would rather have a

·         non-recycling

·         eats only white rice and never brown rice

·         who eats all the pickled herring

·         watches bad TV

·         fundamentalist

·         creationist

·         bunny worshipper

·         who lights candles to the full moon and

·         who jabs pins in dolls who look like his enemies

living next door to me than

·         someone with a PhD in biology

·         who teaches at the local university

·         who is published

·         who always leaves his trash can on the sidewalk instead of bringing it in after trash day

·         who never cuts his grass, and

·         who leaves the dog poop in his back yard where I can smell it on hot days.

I have had those neighbors – the trash can on the sidewalk for days neighbors and the dog poop neighbors. I don’t know what they believed, but I do know they were bad neighbors. Who leaves so much dog poop in the back yard that you can smell it?

Give me someone who lives in a neighborly way – keeps his property neat and tidy so my property value is maintained, trains his dogs to be quiet even if that scary neighbor walks into her own back yard, doesn’t have frequent loud parties – and I’ll take someone who believes the moon is made out of green cheese over the super educated, super sophisticated jerk. What you believe does not matter as much as how you live.

Sly: We went to the gift shop at the park and they had creationism books for sale!

Me: So?

Clearly I am crazed with hunger and headache pain to even consider arguing with my boyfriend’s father the first time I meet him.

Sly: That’s crazy! Everyone knows creationism is wrong! What kind of asshole believes in creationism?

Asshole? He says “asshole?” “Asshole” is not a company word. It is not a word to be used when one meets people for the first time. It is not a word that I would say in front of him, for sure.[1]

Doris, however, is unfazed by his language. She nods in agreement as she sips her bourbon.

Sly: How can they even let them sell those books?

Me: What do you mean, “let them?”

Sly: It shouldn’t be allowed!

Me: This was a private store?

Sly:  Yes.

Me: But you want someone – I am assuming you mean the government – to dictate what they can sell? I mean, you want the government to dictate what people can say? Don’t you support the First Amendment?

Sly: Creationism is wrong.[2]

Doris nods again as she reaches for the bottle and pours herself another inch of bourbon. Maybe joining her is not such a bad idea. Does alcohol get rid of a migraine? My cousin Randy, on whom I had a massive crush when I was 12, only to discover later in life that he is gay, which made me sad for me, but really, did I have a chance with my own cousin, even if he is really a second cousin once removed or a third cousin or whatever it is when your mom and his dad are cousins?[3]

Anyhow. Randy swears by a regular Coke and two aspirin for his migraines. I should try that. With booze. Right now.

Me: Whether it’s right or wrong has nothing to do with it. Either you believe in freedom of speech or you don’t. You don’t get to decide based on content.

Sheesh. Aren’t Sly and Doris supposed to be the tolerant, sophisticated ones? Do I really have to explain the First Amendment to them?

Sly: They shouldn’t allow them to sell books that are obviously untrue.

The cheese cracker I am shoving into my mouth is clearly too late to address my blood sugar/judgment issues.

Me: Isn’t it better for bad ideas to be out there where they can be exposed?

Sly: They shouldn’t be allowed to sell things that are clearly wrong!

People have the right to be stupid. Should bookstores be allowed to sell books about astrology? It’s clearly crap. But do I care if someone else reads her horoscope every morning before making a move? Nope. Doesn’t hurt me at all, unless the horoscope is, “Don’t ever hire someone who has colored and cut her own hair after a job and a boyfriend loss.” Then I’m screwed because then, the stupid beliefs could affect me.[4]

The real issue is who gets to make these decisions. Who decides what is right and what is wrong? People like Sly – his personality, not his political affiliation – always know they would be the ones making those decisions. He would be running things were power to change hands. Which just goes to show he has a poor grasp of history. Except for the ones leading the revolution, intellectuals are usually the first to go. Didn’t he see The Killing Fields?

There is no point in arguing with him, so I shut up. How do you convince someone that it is a bad idea for the government to make those kinds of decisions when he is so sure that power would never be used against him?

My shutting up does not stop Sly from continuing to express his opinion.

---

[1] I am saying it to you guys because 1. I am anonymous and 2. I trust you. We are all friends here, right?

[2] Implied but not said out loud: “It’s just idiotic Christians who believe the crap their church tells them. Trailer-park cretins who don’t have any education and can’t think for themselves.”

[3] Plus, also – Falling For Gay Men. Who among us has not dated a man whom she later discovered was gay?

[4] Oh like you have never cut your own hair and then dyed it Clairol #22 Cinnaberry Red. Cast away, sinless long-haired, natural hair color people.

Bad Bacon Eater! Bad!

Thought you guys might like to see what bad bacon-wrapped date eating looks like:

Ch 1 Sly and Doris finally offer some food, not because they are concerned with our comfort but because they are having some cheese with their bourbon and I guess they think it would be rude to eat in front of guests without offering anything to the guests

At 4:00, they break out the booze. Their hospitality emerges. Would I like a scotch? Some bourbon? Brandy, perhaps?

I decline. Dessert and butter are my poisons, not alcohol. Primo declines as well. He is a wine and beer drinker, not a hard liquor drinker.

They ask Primo to prepare a snack tray. He cuts up more of the Cracker Barrel cheddar and lays a few handfuls of crackers on a tray along with some peanuts

It is the same snack I ate two hours ago. It wasn’t good then and it isn’t good now, but I have no idea when supper will happen, so I eat. 

In which Primo is almost grateful (almost) to be sick because it gets him out of going to a protest march about global warming in crummy weather and I have to laugh about the irony of it all

Primo: I'm sick! This isn't fair!

Me: Sorry, sweetie.

Primo (more vocal sadness about having a cold)

Me: Well, I'm going to watch TV now.

Primo: But I'm sick!

Me: I know.

Primo: And I want sympathy! And soup!

Me: There is chicken adobo in the fridge. Black beans and rice. Chocolate cheesecake. Eat that.

Primo: But - I want soup.

Me: There's soup in the freezer. I guess you could thaw that.

Primo: That's too much work.

Me: OK. Well, whatever.

Primo: I want sympathy!

Me: I gave you some.

Primo: No, I want more than that. Don't you need to cater to my every whim and sing "Soft Kitty" to me? And make me soup? And rub my back?

Me: I am not your mother.

Primo (big, sad sigh)

Me: She really did not prepare you for the real world!

Primo: She doted on me.

Me: Yeah. Exactly.

Primo: At least if I am still sick tomorrow I will not have to go to that climate march.

Me: You wouldn't have had to go no matter what.

Primo: I know, but now I don't have to feel guilty about it.

Ch 1 Sly and Doris trash talk everyone they know, which would be fine except they are breaking the rule about praise out, gossip in

You guys, I love gossip as much as the next person and if it can be snarky gossip about nasty people, I am there with the popcorn.

But there are Rules. The Rules are that you do not trash talk nice people and that you do not trash talk your own people to people outside the group. That is, you never trash talk your own family to strangers.

Unless, of course, you are online and are anonymous, like I am here.

But trash-talking your daughter in law to your son’s girlfriend? Trash talking your own sons to your son’s girlfriend? The girlfriend you are just meeting for the very first time ever?

My friends, that is Not Done.

Yet that’s what Sly and Doris do after not asking me anything about myself. They talk about Primo’ half-brothers, Ted and Jack, and Ted’s wife, Ted’sWife, and Jack’s ex-wife, Stephanie.

·         Ted and Ted’sWife won’t eat leftovers[1] so they are Bad

·         Ted and Ted’sWife served goose for Thanksgiving one year and it was not good

·         Ted and Ted’sWife shop at Dean and DeLuca, even though they had to have Sly co-sign on their credit card because their credit was so bad

·         Ted’sWife smokes!

·         Ted’sWife drinks too much

·         Ted is pompous

·         Jack won’t talk to anyone

·         Sly and Doris invested in Jack’s restaurant and it failed

·         Neither Stephanie nor Ted’sWife know how to load a dishwasher

·         We do not hear about Ted or Jack’s dishwasher-loading skills

·         Ted is so full of crap!

·         Ted and Ted’sWife live beyond their means

·         Stephanie shops like there’s no tomorrow

·         One time when Ted and Ted’sWife were visiting Sly and Doris, Ted’sWife ate all the pickled herring

Doris: Stephanie doesn’t even feed those children brown rice! She gives them white rice! And never prepares broccoli! She doesn’t even know how to make broccoli.[2]

Primo: Mom, Dad. Stephanie is a really nice person. Please stop.

Sly: Her grammar is horrible. We’ll ask her what she and the kids are doing and she says that they are ‘laying’ around. Laying! Laying! I keep correcting her but she won’t change.

Primo: Dad! Whether someone speaks proper English has nothing to do with her value as a human being. Please. Enough with the negative comments. It is rude.

Sly: Primo! She cannot even load a dishwasher! I don’t know if there is anything she can do!

Doris: Ted’sWife can’t load a dishwasher, either.

Sly: No. And Ted’sWife drinks too much.

Doris: And she’s fat. She hasn’t lost any weight. She really needs to lose weight.

Sly nods in agreement. Being overweight is a serious character flaw, not a description of a body. Being overweight is on par with strangling kittens before baking them in a pie to feed to little children.

I study Doris. She is not fat. She is maybe even a little too thin – she is scrawny and ropy, except for the bosom, of course.

Sly would do OK in a famine. He has extra. Enough extra that he shouldn’t be throwing any stones from inside his comfortably padded glass house.

Sly: They don’t even do anything cultural. All they do is watch TV. She doesn’t take those children to the museum. She doesn’t expose them to art or music. Just TV. Nothing cultural. Nothing! It was up to us to take Michael and Maria to the lecture on global warming at the library last week.

I stifle a laugh. That’s just what every high school student wants to do with his grandparents – attend a lecture on global warming. That’s the kind of event that builds fond memories that a person will pull out of her mind during bad times in the future.

“I’m going through chemo,” Maria will muse, 50 years from now, “but what gets me through it is remembering the great times I had with Grandpa and Grandma. Oh, that time they took me to the global warming lecture! What fun that was!”

If only I had more to remember about my grandparents than the times baking bread, making apple pie, picking raspberries, riding on the tractor, watching a calf being born, playing cards, going to Shopko with the dollar my grandma gave me to spend, and going fishing. They never took me to a lecture on global warming. They must not have really loved me. 

Doris: And the spending. She just keeps wasting money, even since the divorce. I ask her what she’s going to do for the weekend and she tells me she’s going shopping. She spends and spends and spends.

This (ex) daughter in law Stephanie person must be truly awful if Sly and Doris are willing to talk about her this way in front of

•        A stranger
•        Who might be the next daughter in law.

I defend myself in my head. I don’t really like brown rice, but I don’t have any children, so what I feed or do not feed them is not an issue. I cook broccoli and other green things all the time. I think I do it right. Is there a wrong way to cook broccoli? Is it a difficult skill to acquire? Wash, cut up, steam, roast, or boil, right?

My grammar is usually fine, although I don’t parse every word that comes out of my mouth, and I try not to judge other people on theirs. My grandmother says, “ain’t,” but that doesn’t mean she isn’t worthy of love and respect.

I used to be that obnoxious person who would correct people’s (peoples’?) grammar online, but then I realized that I was being a total jerk. I stopped doing it. I don’t want to be a jerk. I like being right (who doesn’t?) but man that is a dangerous path to follow. It’s better to be nice than to be right.

I could lose a few pounds, but nobody would say I was fat. I’d been fat. I know what fat is. I fight it every day. They might say I was comfortable, but not fat. 

And even if I were fat, SO WHAT? Fatness <> moral worth. Fat is just an adjective. It is one of many body types, but being fat is not a moral crime. Being fat does not make a person bad. It is not a result of being a bad person. It’s just a thing. My fatness, whatever degree of fat I might be, does not hurt anyone else.

I prefer to watch Bridezillas over going to a museum, but I have seen my fair share of Great Art. Finally, I am not a big spender. Most of my clothes money is spent at the Junior League Thrift Shop, one of the best-kept secrets in town for good clothes at a great price. I don’t spend a million bucks on dressing myself. I just look like it.

I congratulate myself. There will be no reason for Sly and Doris to criticize me. By the standards they are defining, I am almost perfect.

Things that make a person a bad daughter in law or just a bad person, period	Things I do/am	Things I do not do/am not
Uses bad grammar		X
Doesn’t cook or eat broccoli		X
Doesn’t cook broccoli properly		I don’t know yet – what is the right way to cook broccoli?
Is fat	I might be a little chubby	Mostly not, but it was always lurking. This could be a danger point.
Spends a lot of money		X
Smokes	But I plan to start once I am too old to get those wrinkles around my mouth	X
Won’t talk to anyone	But I don’t want to talk to Sly and Doris	I will talk to perfect strangers in line at the grocery store
Is pompous		I don’t think I am
Serves goose		I’ve never even eaten it
Won’t eat leftovers		I cook huge batches of stuff and freeze it
Doesn’t go to museums	I don’t go to museums anymore	I’ve been. I’m done. A person can get tired of museums.
Shops at Dean & DeLuca even with bad credit		I’ve never shopped there, even with good credit
Drinks too much		I don’t like alcohol and almost never drink
Doesn’t know how to load a dishwasher	I don’t know how to load a dishwasher. I wash my dishes by hand. For one person, a dishwasher is wasteful.
Eats all the herring		I don’t even like herring

---

[1] I gotta agree with Sly on this one. Wasting food? That is just wrong.

[2] In the tone of voice one would use to say, “She feeds them strychnine!”

Ch 1 The apple does not fall far from the tree? Should I reconsider a future with a man who might grow into his parents’ collecting habits? Do I dare risk a collection of pigs?

Now that I have seen his parents’ house, this scene, which occurred last month at Primo’s place, makes more sense.

Me: Are you through with those newspapers?

There is a pile a foot high stacked on the shelf next to his TV.

Primo: No. Why?

Me: Because it's a ton of papers and it looks bad.

Primo: If the pile outgrows the space, then it's reason for concern. But if it fits into the available space and it's in a neat pile, then what's the problem?

Me: They're old newspapers. Nobody reads old newspapers. You don’t have a fireplace. You are not moving. Why do you need them?

Primo: I don’t know. I might.

Me: I doubt it. You should put them in the recycling.

Primo: You don't think a neat pile is an acceptable resolution of a big mess, do you?

Ch 1 part 6 The mess that is Sly and Doris' house, which is something I am not used to seeing, as people who move every three or four years courtesy of the US Air Force tend not to accumulate a lot of stuff

When I examine Sly and Doris’ house, their annoyance at having to clean out the spare room starts to make more sense. My mom is a neatnik. She has stuff, but it is all very well organized and put away and labeled. It is a lot of stuff – she probably does not need her Simplicity patterns from 1978 and I am trying to convince her to donate that kind of thing so I won’t have to deal with it later,[1] but she is not disorderly.

Sly and Doris appear to have a different approach. They have the “Let’s just pile everything on top of everything else and create a mishmash of junk” approach, an approach that many people, including yours truly, would consider a pre-hoarder approach.

Every surface in the living room and kitchen – except the ceiling – is covered with knickknacks or photos or papers or magazines or pigs. Pigs of every material: brass, ceramic, clay, glass. They like pigs, I guess.

There is also, just to add some variety, a glass octopus on the mantel of the fireplace. (Not sure why you need a fireplace in Florida, but there you go.) It is lit. From within. It is something to behold. Totally not making this up. 

A piano is crammed in next to the breakfast table. Nature Conservancy magazines are stuffed between the wall and the piano and stacked on top of it.

There are two bookcases in the breakfast nook, one on either wall, leaving almost no room to pull the chairs from the breakfast table, not that I would need to pull out a chair because that table is place where people sit to eat.

Books and magazines overflow the bookcases. Spirit catchers and leaded glass thingies are stuck to the window. Greasy, dusty old delivery vases full of artificial flowers are on top of the cupboards. The counters are crammed full of appliances, pill bottles, spice jars, and snacks.

In the living room, three cats lounge on the back of the sofa. Two of the cats are sweet and affectionate; the third is hostile, drawing blood from me when I sit by her. There is one cat dish on the breakfast bar and another on the floor next to the kitchen counter.

Stacks of Mother Jones and National Geographic and crossword puzzles sit on the coffee table. An old plastic trash can sits next to the end table by the sofa. On the end table is a pile of mail and newspapers about five inches high.[2]

Half of Primo’s office has piles of empty corrugated boxes, the tub in the spare bathroom is full of empty corrugated boxes,[3] and there are stacks of old newspapers next to his sofa, but he can’t hold a candle to his parents.

Sly, is unshaven – he has those thick gray whiskers older men get and there is hair sprouting from his ears – and is wearing Birkenstocks without socks, shorts, and a stained t-shirt that said, “Vote Republican – it’s easier than thinking.” His toenails are thick and yellowed and jagged and his heels are cracked and blackened. I look away quickly before I catch old man foot cooties.

Doris is barefoot. Her feet are in the same condition as Sly’s. Should I judge her more harshly for having gnarly feet? It doesn’t seem fair, but at least women can get a pedicure.

Wait. Men can get a pedicure, too.

And no. Not fair to judge her more harshly than Sly just because she is a woman and we judge women on their looks. In fact, I am betraying the Sisterhood by even thinking that Doris should take better care of her feet than Sly should. Shame on me. Shame.

Her hair, thick, gray, and blunt cut at shoulder length, is pushed back from her face with a headband. She wears no makeup.

She wears baggy khaki capris and a long t-shirt decorated with butterflies. No bra.

She is tall and very slim. And very generously endowed.

I will leave it at that.

Although, again, I have to slap myself and remind myself that I should not collaborate with The Patriarchy in judging a woman with unbound breasts or on her looks in general. Women do not exist to provide eye candy for other people. I have heard – I would not know myself – that when one is busty, wearing a bra can be very uncomfortable.

OK! I don’t judge. I am not judging. Doris does not have to conform to the norms of the Patriarchy in her own house. She doesn’t.

---

[1] If you know what I mean.

[2] So that’s where Primo gets his Leaning Tower of Visa.

[3] “Because someday, I might move out of this apartment,” he says when I ask him why he needs to keep a bunch of boxes. 

In which Primo agonizes about whether to visit Ted when he (Primo) is going to the city where Ted lives and Primo's best friend and I both say, "Why bother? He's had plenty of chances to be a decent human being to you?" but another friend says, "What harm could there be?" which to me means, the other friend has never encountered anyone toxic ever

What Primo (and I) would really like to have:

A brother (in-law) who is a decent, kind person who is nice to be around.

What Primo has:

A brother who is nice only when he wants something and even that niceness is tinged with - I don't know how to describe it - condescension? mocking? the clear impression that Ted is saying the words he knows he should say but that he is rolling his eyes as he is speaking?

Primo has had a trip planned to Washington DC for a month. It's some political group thing and they actually pay people to do work and it's a place he would like to work and they are paying for the trip and we have enough money to survive even if Primo never works again but I still want him to get a job because I don't want to be the only working (one of us has to work so we can have decent health insurance).

For this month, Primo has wondered if he should try to see Ted, who lives on the way to DC.

I have said No! No! No!

But Primo says that he wants to try to have a good relationship with Ted.

I say why? Primo has all the power in this relationship. He does not need to cultivate Ted for anything. Ted is the one who has been the jerk in all of this. He has had so many chances to be nice to Primo and has chosen to be a jerk instead.

Ted is a middle-aged man whose own best friend of 30 years told Primo last year that he was "taking a break" from Ted.

As in, what kind of person can't even keep a relationship with his best (and maybe only) friend?

And why should Primo be doing all the work? Ted has never apologized for being a jerk, for screaming at Primo, for implying that Primo was stealing from the trust. His niceness always precedes a request for money. He is never nice just to be nice.

But Primo persists.

He left for DC two days ago. Called me last night.

Primo: You know I asked Pete and Julie if I should talk to Ted. Pete* said nope. Julie said I should call.

Me: Julie's never met Ted, has she?

Primo: No. Pete says Julie is a lot nicer than he is.

Me: A lot nicer than I am, too.

Primo: And then Tom** called. He and (his wife) think I should call Ted, too.

Me: These people have never met Ted! They have no idea what he's like!

Primo: I know. And I have been thinking about it all day and dreading it. And then I saw a notification that it is Jack's birthday today, so I knew I needed to call or text him. So I decided to call.

Me: Call Jack?

Primo: I started with Ted. And Ted'sWife answered the phone. They are in Atlanta at Ted'sMom's place - she is very sick and they think she is dying.

Me: So you don't have to visit! But you get credit for trying!

Primo: Yeah, but - Ted and Jack's mom is dying!

Me: That is awful.

Primo: So I feel bad for them.

Me: Of course.

Primo: I told Ted'sWife to call me if they are back in DC before I leave next week.

Me: But you hope they won't.

Primo: Yes.


* Primo's best friend for 35 years

** A very good friend of 30 years

Ch 1 Primo's mom and dad and the conversation I thought we would have, which just goes to show you how lucky I have been with the parents of previous boyfriends, including the college boyfriend’s parents who thought we were too young to marry (we were), but who were always polite and kind to me

This is how I thought it would go when I met Primo’s parents.

Doris: Goldie, we are so excited to meet you! Primohas told us a little bit about you, but not enough.

Sly: Yes! Welcome to our home. We are happy to have you here. Would you like a glass of water or juice? I’m afraid we don’t have diet soda, but we can get some at the store tomorrow. Doris did ask Primo what you drink, but he never got back to her.

Me: A glass of water would be lovely. Thank you.

Doris: Are you hungry? You guys have been traveling since early this morning and I am pretty sure they don’t feed people on planes anymore. Did you stop for lunch on the way here? If you didn’t, I can make some sandwiches or get out some cheese and crackers and grapes. You must be hungry! Oh! And I did make an apple pie. It’s Primo’s favorite. No time like the present to have pie!

Me: Pie sounds great! I am hungry.

Doris: Oh! Before I forget – I thought I asked Primo to ask you this, but is there anything you cannot eat?

Me: No! I like everything but tripe!

Primo: I like tripe.

    Me: You also like tendon. You are weird.

Sly and Doris laugh merrily.

Doris: Oh that son of ours! He is indeed an adventurous eater! Don’t worry! I am not planning on serving tripe!

Primo: But I don’t like anything with that orange flavor, like beets or chard or winter squash.

Me: And nothing that ends in “erry!”

Sly and Doris laugh again.

Doris: I see you have been learning Primo’s food rules!

Me: Yes! Honestly, how did you put up with him when he was a kid? He is so picky!

Doris: Oh my! There were times when he ate a cheese sandwich for supper. My mother was from Georgia and I like my greens! I had no intention of being a short-order cook in my own kitchen.

Me: Good for you!

Doris: Goldie, Primo told me that even though you both live in Austin, you two met at your college reunion. What was your major?

Me: I didn’t choose as wisely as Primo did – I majored in English.

Sly (laughing): Wait a second there, young lady! I was an English professor. English is a perfectly fine major!

Me: I know. My original plan was to major in biomedical engineering, go to medical school, and then design artificial body parts. I didn’t quite make it. Instead, I went to the University of Texas for my MBA.

Sly: Well, the world of English is happy to have you! Who is your favorite author?

Doris: Let’s not get into shop talk, dear! Goldie, Primo tells us you also live in Austin. Are you from Austin?

Me: No, I moved there for a job after college.

Sly: Oh really? And what is your work?

Me: These days, I do marketing for a tech company.

Sly: That is a field about which I know nothing. Tell me more!

Me: [blah blah blah about my job]

Doris: Dear, where are you from originally?

Me: My dad was in the air force, so we moved around a lot when I was a kid.

Sly: Really? I was in the navy for four years. Where was your father stationed?

Me: We lived in Spain when I was a kid and in the Panama Canal Zone when I was in high school. Most of the rest of the time in the US was in Texas.

Doris: How fascinating! We lived in Michigan briefly while Sly was completing his graduate work, but then we lived in Pittsburgh for the next forty years until he retired and we moved here. It must have been so interesting to live in so many different places! How I loved visiting my grandparents in Georgia. I love to travel.

Me: Yes, I do, too. That’s where all my disposable income has gone over the years. I don’t have a fancy car, but I have traveled. And I do like Georgia. I like the south a lot. I am not a fan of snow!

Doris: I have to admit I do not miss the Pennsylvania winters at all!

Sly: Nor do I! Shoveling snow certainly loses its charm after a short time. And once the kids were out of the house, we had nobody to delegate it to!

Doris: You lived in Spain and Panama? Do you speak Spanish?

Me: Yes, but I am fluent only because I was a Peace Corps volunteer in Chile. I learned Spanish in school in Spain and Panama, but in Chile, I had to speak it to buy food and pay my bills, so that’s when I got good.

Doris: You were a Peace Corps volunteer? That is wonderful! We are huge liberals so of course we support the Peace Corps! Do you realize how many Parent Points you have just gained with us? How could we ever find a better partner for our beloved son? Welcome, welcome, welcome!

Sly: Let’s see. You went to the same college as our son, so you clearly meet the educational standard we would have for a daughter in law. And you, unlike our son, have a master’s degree – and from a top university! In addition, you have one of the best liberal credentials possible – you were a Peace Corps volunteer. Truly we have hit the jackpot for potential daughters in law. Welcome indeed!

Are you thinking, “Yeah, that’s how these things go” or are you thinking, “Bless your stupid little heart, Goldie, you are delusional. There is no way the conversation could have gone that well. That is fiction!”

If you picked Option 2, you would be correct.

This is how it actually goes.

Sly [not making eye contact with me]: Primo, what do you think about the Pirates this year?

Primo: Sports talk

Sly: More sports talk

Primo: Even more sports talk

Doris: But what about politics? We need to talk about politics!

Sly: Oh definitely! Politics talk

Primo: More politics talk

Doris: And even more politics talk

Sly: Politics!

Doris: Politics squared!

Primo: Yeah OK politics

Sly: Stupid people who don’t agree with me on politics!

Doris: Totally stupid! If they don’t agree with us, it’s because they are stupid!

Primo: Well, sometimes people have valid reasons for disagreeing.

Sly: Those stupid people are too stupid to live. Why are they even allowed to stay in this country?