Crap. I was gonna ask you something, and now I forgot. Don't you hate that? Have I mentioned they doubled my Topamax and I am back in a fog? I am back to being Scarlett O'Hara after Melanie dies and she is running through that mist to get to Rhett.
Have you ever noticed how often I refer to Gone with the Wind? Did I ever tell you about when my grandparents went to see Gone with the Wind back when it was an actual movie in the theater? My grandfather fell asleep before Atlanta burned, and my grandmother got so annoyed that she got up and took a cab home, and my grandfather woke up and the movie was over and my grandmother was gone and he had no idea what was up.
She was often irritated with my poor grandfather, my grandmother was. And he was so saintly and just thought she was the cat's meow. But he got on her nerves.
Does this sound at all familiar to you? Is nerves-getting-on genetic, do you think?
One time, I was visiting them right here in North Carolina, and we were on a long drive passing many, many apple stands. "Chuck," my grandmother said, "we should stop at one of these apple stands on the way home." Then she turned her attention back to me and told me some interminable story, probably about kudzu, because I remember she was completely obsessed with kudzu during that particular visit. But she also could have been talking about the royal family, as we were both interested in them, in a cynical way.
Anyway, she talked and she talked (Grammy did go on. Even her tea was Constant Comment) and suddenly we were pulling into their home. "Well, Chuck!" Grammy said. "You didn't stop at any of the apple stands!"
"You didn't tell me which one!" my poor grandfather said.
And you know, he was right. No matter which of the 72 apple stands he'd have stopped at, Grammy would have told him it was the wrong one.
My hippie-arse family. Mom is holding the camera, which, why? when clearly dad is holding the camera which is actually taking the picture. I guess they are doing that funny I'll-take-your-picture-taking-my-picture thing. My grandparents are the people who are actually old. Depressingly, they are probably close to my age now in this picture. This makes me want to go to bed immediately.
My Aunt Mary, the one who likes to shop, is Safety Bug, there, in the big glasses, and the guy with the Frisbee is one of her litany of boyfriends. I remember that he was always nice to me. As is Uncle Omar,who she married, you know, 13 years later. Hi, Uncle Omar!
What exactly am I doing in this photograph? It's like I am punching my fist in my hand like some sort of tough guy. I was the ruffian of this peace-loving bunch. You don't want to give peace a chance? Fine. I'll stick your love beads where the sun don't shine.
Well, if I think of what I was gonna ask you, I'll come back. Stupid Topamax.