days in the life midweek report

Today my family visited my new place. My mother and I planned this as a day trip for my Grandmother a while ago and the weather was perfect for it. Dad drove Mom, Grandma, and Jake down and they had a lovely visit. Emma was positively social and didn’t flee at the sight of Jake. I have several new paintings that I finished yesterday scattered drying about the apartment and Dad actually said it’s the best work I’ve done. I know he meant it because he kept videotaping them, which is wierd because they don’t do much. Jake ran madly about and seemed to really like the place as he explored a good deal of it and found many things of great interest.
We then took Grandma for a tour of her old neighborhood which is just fine in the daytime from behind a car window and found the house where she raised my mother. There were new windows and the people who lived there took care of the place. We stopped to pick up pierogies and Jake and I hung out in the car. Jake ended up throwing his juice bottle at my head. He is in that terrible twos stage and can be quite insufferable. My brother and his wife are beside themselves and his Nana and Papa seem to have forgotten what we boys were like at this age. I have developed a very interesting relationship with my nephew but I’m still not one to let the three-year-old decide what’s what. The big surprise for my Grandma was lunch at Margie’s in Bucktown. She used to go there as a kid. The Beatles went there after they played Comiskey. It’s like the clock stopped there a long time ago. Jake started to throw a fit early on and I scooped him up and took him outside. He was very displeased but the hubbub of the street distracted him. I had a firm discussion with him about manners and we went back in and had a lovely meal. 
They dropped me off at home and Miss Mayweather and I went out to run some errands. I stopped at a convienence store and listened to a man casually tell his son that his hair made him look like a ‘white n*gger’. Didn’t that dude get the memo that White America isn’t racist? Someone inform the spokesman for the Silent Majority.
After that we went over to the Home Depot where I got painting supplies and Miss Mayweather got plants. Then we walked across the parking lot to the Super H Mart. This place is awesome and not far from the house. We easily blew 90 minutes in there. Aside from the huge grocery store itself, there’s a mini-mall of stores like ‘Undergarments & Luggage Venus’, ‘Happy Fun Pencil Land’, and ‘Electronic Future Toilet Display Functioning’. I’m only kind of making those up. It’s just that the special beautiful word salad that results from the translation process is hard to remember the syntax in my synapses. In any case, it’s a brilliant wonderland of exotic joy and incredibly weird stuff. We explored every aisle and case, making discoveries that had us full of confused fascination and in some cases ecstatic joy, as when I found a frozen yogurt concoction that I had only tasted once at some out of the way Korean joint. Do you know how people will often hand you something and say it ‘tastes just like an orange dreamsicle’ but it doesn’t? And the ‘it doesn’t’ part is always devastating because when someone tells you that something is going to ‘taste just like an orange dreamsicle’ you are expecting an explosion of happy in your mouth and instead you get something kind of blah. Yogu Farm Yogurt Flavored Drink tastes just like a liquid orange dreamsicle. It’s sitting in my refrigerator right now, thawing. 

Then I came home and wrote this. We have now reached the circular portion of this days in the life midweek report. I’m going to go watch TV with Miss Mayweather and her husband for a while. Then I’ll tell you about the past few days.  

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: