Friday, August 16, 2002

My flu-like ailment reared its fevered head again today and I just haven't even had the energy to blog.

I did drag myself out of bed for a while tonight though, because I'd promised my friends Dirk and Ketz months ago that I help them organize their mom's stuff tonight for the estate sale tomorrow. I felt like hell and had to leave pretty early, but I had a wonderful time spending a few hours with both of them and we made remarkable progress. They gave me a lot of the stuff that's going up for sale tomorrow because their mom and I were very, very close. I got some incredible antique paintings, books, and dishes, a George Forman grill (ha!), a really nice breadmaking machine, and a great 17-horsepower 42" Craftsman riding lawn mower, almost new, which I'm giving to my dad.

One really cool thing we discovered -- for years their dad, Russ (who died several years ago), had told them to be sure to look through all the books after he and Polly were gone. "It's important," he told them, over and over. We found out why tonight. In many of the books that had been family treasures for whatever reason, we found hidden treasures -- Russ' draft card from WWII, old family pics, love letters from the parents to each other, cards long ago written to each of the children. We decided to stack the books away until we could go through all of them. And Ketz said that she was sure her dad was in that room with us, laughing his ass off at us, cursing him for being such a prankster.

It takes a special kind of person to plan ahead so that after their demise, they're still pulling jokes, making their children and friends laugh, feel their presence.
I know exactly what to do with the hijackers' remains.

Sweep them up ever so tenderly, package them carefully, include a nice sympathy note to their families, maybe a tasteful bouquet of lilies to go with. Just enough to let mom and dad know we care.

Then load it all up in a nuke and fire it over to Saudi where they fucking came from.