Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Midweek Late Morning Brief Update and a Message for Chester -OR- "You see that spot??"

I was not able to post an entry last night. Tonight is a regular gym night, and tomorrow night, I am going to make it a supplemental gym night if only to swim in the pool. As a result, I should be home at my usual time and watching my usual late night MeTV line up and posting my usual stuff.

I need to post my Hurricane Irma overview followed by a backlog of other topical entries to include the August South Carolina total solar eclipse trip pictures. There is also the need to commemorate the sad but noble ending of the Cassini space probe later this week.  

Finally, I'm overdue for posting a BIG Y'EYEMAH-themed entry.

OK, let me just get this damn day started.

Oh, yes, this is for Chester...

Scene: My childhood house at 368 Kirby Avenue, Long Branch, New Jersey.
Time: 1977 or 1978, likely on a weekend afternoon

Context: My grandparents have been arguing all afternoon in one of their rolling, hilarious fights. As was his custom back then, my dad was tape-recording the fights on one of those ancient mid-1970s cassette tape recorders.

As for me, I was probably at my maternal grandmother's house in South Amboy, N.J., as was my weekend custom back in those days. (I lived with my paternal grandparents and dad in the same house; my mom and stepfather were living in Belgium.)

Additional context: My grandma obsessing, as ever, on the fact that the linoleum on the floor in what we called "the vestibule" -- off of which branched a number of other rooms in the house -- had been incorrectly measured. Instead of a single piece, there was one very large piece, a small one, and a teeny-tiny one. The three met in a pinch point -- that SPOT -- that drove my grandmother endlessly nuts.

Dad and grandpa in the den measuring the mantelpiece over the fireplace (not sure why). And in what follows, the "she" refers to the wife of the contractor -- a family friend -- who installed the linoleum.

Dad chuckles

Grandpa: Why, you dirty sonofabitch, what are you on SOME KIND OF A GOD-DAMN LAUGHIN' SPREE?!?!

Grandma: Shut up! Shut up! Get in there and measure that thing! [Pause] You see that spot? It'll never come away ... Right there ... That sonofabitch. She wouldn't want it in her house like that, that rotten bitch. She oughta DROP DEAD ---


Dad laughing hysterically. Tape shuts off.


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