Something for later…

I was fooling around on the internet this morning and stumbled on a question on some “answers” website, apparently not asked in jest or malice, about why many gay men talk with a lisp or with feminine attributes. I think it was asked by a high school kid doing a report. Anyway, I thought it was an interesting question from a sociological standpoint. The people answering his question were flaming him for even asking it.


Wednesday, September 2, 2009

A Georgetown police officer named Chad Spicer was killed last night in a shooting. Another officer was injured. Details are sketchy at this point, but it looks like some young black guys were having a shootout at the McDonald’s on 113, police responded to calls reporting the vehicle the shooters were in, pursued the vehicle, and when the suspects got out to flee on foot, the officers chased them and got blasted. It’s pretty unusual to have police killed here in southern Delaware. Apparently a lot of people I know also knew the slain patrolman. He’d only been on the force for a year or so.

It gives you pause when you realize how crime and hoodlums have infiltrated comfortable, small American towns. The reasons why are like the starry host, so numerous. Even if you could quantify and pinpoint them all, you couldn’t address them. The church can only hold forth the one Answer, the one Solution.

They sent Calvin (another driver) with me yesterday because I was loaded so heavy. I have no idea what today looks like. We were in a Dollar General in Long Neck where this really ditzy, flirtatious woman works. Her boyfriend was visiting her at the store, and she said to me, “Now you know who I’m drooling over, why I’m so perky.” I said, “You’re always perky. But people who’re infatuated are really annoying.” She said, “That’s the way it’s supposed to be. And if you find the right person, you’ll never stop being that way, lost in love.” Once we were in the truck I told Calvin, “Women are beyond stupid. She really believes that bullshit. She’s going to spend her whole life being miserable, trying to flutter around like an angel on Cloud 9.” He just muttered and said, “I’d like to bend her over.” I hate to say it but he’s a typical black guy that way. He said stuff like that all day, after almost every woman we encountered. He’d screw a hole in the wall, no discrimination, no requirements of physical attractiveness or charming personality. He has nine kids.

But as for the woman, it’s pure fantasy Hollywood. Accursed chick flicks. If a movie portrayed real life (which is that you’re on Cloud 9 briefly and then your wings rot and fall off and you plummet back to the dirty earth where you must claw the ground and sweat out your days, and count yourself immeasurably blessed if you’re in the companionship of someone who’s not a moron) no woman would ever pay the ticket charge.

Jessica and her brother had a little help from Daniel B getting the rest of the windows in upstairs. The next step for the girl’s room and the Cave is drywall. Daniel finished replacing the leaking metal roof over the downstairs bathroom; it looks awesome from the outside. Next week he says he’ll start working on the rotten T-111 siding on the side of the house.


Tuesday, September 1, 2009

It’s September and it’s 58 degrees outside this morning: I woke up cold. The weather all week is supposed to be sunny, but temperatures aren’t predicted to break 80. Sweet. Good weather to exist in.

My brother-in-law Frank is sleeping on the couch, but he erupts with excited talking and loud snores every few minutes. Sounds like he’s telling someone off. Awhile ago he muttered, “Yeah you’re goddam right.” I guess his dreams are pretty exciting. He’s done a lot of work around the old house here in Laurel, helping to fix it up. He doesn’t work steady or even have a regular place to crash as far as I know. No squeeze, no flop, it’s a wonder he’s not suicidal. A lot of the chaos in his life is the result of some bad choices or bad luck or a mixture of both, but I’m not sure how we would’ve got so much done if he was a really responsible type with a regular job. He’s really been a huge help.

So anyway, the weekend. Since moving to Laurel I think we’ve been more social and active than we were for eight years in the trailer. I told Sikki for years that the confining space of the doublewide (and the singlewide before that) made having people over an insufferable pain. Just the thought of being cramped in a box with a lot of other human beings and having nowhere to sit or go for air — not quite like Jews in a cattle car, really, but not far from it in my mind.

Friday we sort of talked about what we were going to do over the weekend. Saturday I went to hang out with Daniel and Andre, just to talk and goof around. We went to Wings To Go and I ate enough hot wings to be sick with the spurts until Monday morning. Then Saturday night Dre’s niece Bre babysat so Sikki and Danielle could meet us at Daniel’s, along with a lot of other people, to watch a UFC fight. That was a boring male soap opera and Daniel was a rotten host, but it was nice to shoot the breeze with people, especially a guy named Brett. We were up till 1 or 2 on Sunday morning, so we basically took it easy during the first part of the day. In the afternoon I had to go get Andre in Milford and take him to his car in Millsboro. He’d gotten into a tiff with his wife over some stupid thing. I filmed him acting out the story of how he’d taken a nasty crap in the woods near Georgetown on 113. Then I came home and cleared wood piles out of the front yard until dark while Jess went to take a load of wood to her uncle and pickĀ  up her brother to come back to the house. Yesterday (Monday) I took off work so we could try and get some of the windows done in the girl’s room. Daniel and one of his helpers replaced the roof over the downstairs bathroom, which was rotted and leaking. Pastor John came over and he and Frank did most of the window work. Rachel B came over to visit with Rebekah. Julia from next door was in and out with baby Malachi; she had lunch with us. Frank finished the floor in The Cave. We got pizza ‘n’ Pepsi for dinner.

I am broke. Beyond broke. I have no idea how all of this is going to be paid for. But it’s a nice house, a nice place to live and have kids running around. I still believe it was God’s idea, the timing and circumstances and everything that led up to us moving here.