Friday, November 3, 2023

Time Flies

 

(My stepfather is an old man.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 5 a.m. and drank a cup of instant coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a nasty shit. The little fat man in charge of North Korea is named Kim Jong-un. And make no mistake. He’s a complete psychopathic son of a bitch. Anyway, this twisted dwarf is throwing his support toward Palestine—which shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone. Diabolical assholes always gravitate toward evil. My final analysis? Kim Jong-un can go take a flying fuck at a rolling donut. Fuck him and fuck the horse he rode in on.

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

I said, “How are things in Texas?”

She said, “Not so good.”

“Why? What’s the matter?”

“Your Mexican stepfather might be at death’s door.”

“Holy crap. Is he all right?”

“Of course he’s not all right. I already told you that the Grim Reaper is coming for him.”

“Well, how do you know?”

She shrugged and took a sip of water. “Last night, he was so exhausted that he couldn’t hold his head up. I had to drag him to his bed. Then I made him toast and tea. He said, ‘Honey, I think the end is coming soon.’ After that, he rolled over and went to sleep.”

I smiled at her. “He isn’t dying. He’s simply worn out. It happens to the best of us.”

She wagged her finger in my face. “Son, the man is 85 years old. If he says he’s dying, then he’s dying. Trust me on this.”

“But his mother lived until she was a hundred years old. Plus his mind is still as sharp as a tack.”

“That’s true. Yet his mother never had bypass surgery.” She paused for dramatic effect. “The years have a way of creeping up on you, Jack. They pass by so quickly.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “Try not to worry. If he dies, I’ll be on the next plane. Then me and my boys will do our best to support you emotionally and financially.”

“What is your heart telling you?”

“Honestly, I’d love to come back to America as soon as possible. However, I think it would be better to let Rice-Boy finish high school before returning. Plus I’d be able put some scratch in the bank. But I’m not going to let you sit in Texas alone.”

She nodded. “Anyway, his ex-wife and his son are coming to visit next week just to be safe. They want to say one final adios before he embarks on his journey.”

“Well, that certainly makes sense. However, I feel in my gut that there is still some tread left on his tire. I wouldn’t bury the old guy just yet. But what do I know?”

Later that morning, I caught the bus to school. My day at work went OK. I’m currently reading a Ray Bradbury story with my middle schoolers. It’s a tale that’s supposed to serve as a metaphor describing the Cold War. Bradbury has been dead a long time, and the Cold War is over. Things change at the speed of light.

I eventually got home at 6 p.m. I walked across the street and bought donuts and duct tape. Then it was time to clean two loads of laundry. What I really wanted to do was watch porno, but I was simply too busy. Perhaps I’ll be able to find the time tonight. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

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6 comments:


  1. Texas Trilogy: Bosque County Romance Lyrics

    Mary Martin was a schoolgirl
    Just seventeen or so
    When she married Billy Archer
    About fourteen years ago
    Not even out of high school
    Folks said it wouldn't last
    But when you grow up in the country
    You grow up mighty fast

    They married in a hurry
    In March before school was out
    Folks said that she was pregnant
    "Just wait and you'll find out"
    It came about that winter
    One gray November morn
    The first of many more to come
    A baby boy was born
    And cattle is their game
    And Archer is the name
    They give to the acres that they own
    If the Brazos don't run dry
    And the newborn calves, they don't die
    Another year from Mary will have flown
    Another year from Mary will have flown

    Now Billy kept what cattle
    His daddy could afford
    As he went bouncing across the cactus
    In a 1950 Ford
    But the cows were sick and skinny
    And the weeds was all that grew
    But Billy kept the place alive
    The only thing he knew

    And Mary cooked the supper
    And Mary scrubbed the clothes
    And Mary busted horses
    And she blew the baby's nose
    And Mary and a shotgun
    Kept the rattlesnakes away
    How she kept on smiling
    No one could ever say
    And cattle is their game
    And Archer is the name
    They give to the acres that they own
    If the Brazos don't run dry
    And the newborn calves, they don't die
    Another year from Mary will have flown
    Another year from Mary will have flown

    Now the drought of '57
    Was a curse upon the land
    No one in Bosque county
    Could give old Bill a helping hand
    The ground was cracked and broken
    And the truck was out of gas
    And cows can't feed on prickly pear
    Instead of growing grass

    Well, the weather got the water
    And a snake bite took a child
    And a fire in the old barn
    Took the hay that Bill had piled
    The mortgage got the money
    And the screw worm got the cows
    The years have come for Mary
    She's waiting for them now
    And cattle is their game
    And Archer is the name
    They give to the acres that they own
    If the Brazos don't run dry
    And the newborn calves, they don't die
    Another year from Mary will have flown
    Another year from Mary will have flown

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    Replies
    1. Nice poem but now I think I'll just go jump off a cliff after reading it. Was it written by Debbie Downer?

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    2. By the way, those are lyrics from a hillbilly song by Lyle Lovett. He's a weird looking guy who once married a supermodel. I think.

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  2. I'd lay off the porn....
    My gut tells me Judgment Day is right around the corner.

    ReplyDelete