Monday, August 06, 2007

Johnny Rumble:
One Month

Two Weeks of Heaven:

I spent exactly two weeks exactly where I wanted to be. At Miss Ataxia's new(ish) house in Hampton, Virgina. Life honestly couldn't have been better. The moment I stepped into the baggage area, I was met by a very very happy girlfriend, and her watchful father. She wore the pink dress that I had so casually and flippantly denied did not exist in the package that was sent to her house from Angry, Young and Poor. To say that she was suprised would be an under statement.

When we got back to her home, activities never stopped. From going to Lowes to find wallpaint and wall samples, to traveling 6 hours north to the Wisp Ski Resort in Accident, Maryland, to doing nothing but playing Star Wars: Battlefront, to "bedtime activites," I was never bored out of skull. I was fortunatly also able to sew on some new patches I got. And able to mend all the holes that had accumulated into my beloved vest. Iron-on mending patches are a godsend.

However, as is said, all good things must come to an end. The last day in Virgina was one of the worst days of my life. I won't deny that cried softly in the middle of the airport. I couldn't even speak to the TSA agents without my voice doing the emotional cracking. It sucked. At the gate I sent a SMS message to Miss Ataxia saying, "I miss you too much. The cold air makes me shiver for your warmth." At least through the whole flight I was able to keep my mind pre-occupied with Dan Brown's Angels and Demons. What's sad is I was still cold when I got back to my own house.

It took until the next night for the full emotional impact to hit me. I bawled for an hour.

Two Weeks in Purgatory:

Michigan. Fifty years of marriage. The entire extended family. One crowded house. At least the beer was flowing.

It took the three (father, mother, and myself) of us three days to cross the country from Northern California to Detroit, Michigan. We stopped once in Salt Lake City, Utah. I started a new series called Night Watch (I highly recommend it). The first week (my mother contiued north to the Thumb.) was spent with my father's sister, Debbie and her husband Mark. I highly enjoyed the time I spent with them. Unfortunatly, the whole week was dragged through the mud when outcome of spending time with my Fathers parents played itself out.

To put it in laymen's terms, according to my grandmother, I'm fat and need to go to a fat camp, Miss Ataxia is also fat (Grandmother has never met the girl), my father was the worst son in existance, and we as a family take advantage of her and he deterioting health. That night ended with us pretty much saying, "We'll see you at the funeral." It's sad that because of her, my relationship with my grandfather has to suffer. I really really enjoy spending time with him. That, and he's a genius. Think the Chrysler Turbine Car in the 1960's and the M1A1 Abrams tank of the US Army. His signature is written all over them.

That night my Aunt and Uncle treated both my father and I to a good greasy Hooters meal. Two "Hooties" even signed my vest, of which I keep gloating about to everyone. It, in fact, inspired a new project, but we'll see if it comes to fruition.

After having mulitple arugments over the phone with my mother about when we had to show in the Thumb, we eventually settled that first priority was to have an appointment a Saginaw Valley State Menta...uhhh...University. End result? My personal choice is not to return to SVSU. Three colleges in three years. I'm on a roll.

When we did eventually get to the Thumb, the Grandparent's (mothers parents) 50th Anniversary celebration weekend started. Four days of fun. Meet with all the family, smile a lot, pose for photos, the normal shit. But there was this one particular night...

Beer Fest. Or at least that's what I've happened to call it. If I kept proper score, I had 7 beers (five of them were this IPA that was 9.9%), half a bottle of dessert wine (It was too heavy with Brandy, to be honest), and a couple of shots of some sort of whiskey. Needless to say my head was only wadding into the sea of alcohol. In step my mother and her evil twin. I got cut off. De-umbilicaled. Re-corked. Bollocks. I went back to my grandparents basement with a heavy buzz/light drunkness. I do remember calling Miss Ataxia and leaving a voicemail on her phone.

The rest of the time spent there went smoothly, and the drive home commenced. This time we spent the three night on the road. Omaha, Reno, and Fresno to pick up the pets. Somewhere between Omaha and Reno, the conversation of my virginty came up. And it was found out that it no longer existed. Somehow, someway, in the end, I wasn't the one in trouble. It was, I quote, my "horny bastard" of a father that was. I'm still mystified.

In Reno, we cruised around The Strip for an hour looking at the Casinos. It's dosn't even hold a cardboard match to Las Vegas. We also took some time and headed south to go through Yosemite and the Tioga Pass. Can't say I was too thrilled to be spending even more time in the car, but I did enjoy myself in the end. After the night in Fresno and the trip back to home, I'm worn out from travel.

And yet, the only thing I can think of is when I can get back to Miss Ataxia. Or when Ataxia can come to me. Either's fine. Going to is better though. Shared bed.

Johnny Rumble

1 comment:

  1. "bedtime activities" lol thats a way to put it. I miss you more and more each day. And I'm going to come and see YOU this time. Right after you guys figure out where you're moving too. Than I'll get my plane ticket and suffer the madness.

    And yes. Calling me was a highlight. Especially when you're drunk. And why you would have gotten in trouble is beyond me.

    And I agree shared bed.
    Love you.