Acid's Death

 My sister-in-law died Tuesday morning.  She was my husband's eldest sister.  The very first time I met her was at Kaiser Hospital in San Rafael 38 years ago.  She had tubes running down her nose.  She told me, "It's nice to meet you, I've looked better."

I thought the comment cute but somewhat out of place.  Nobody expects anybody to look glamorous while lying in a hospital bed.   Looks and appearances were very important to Acid. 

I will be skipping and jumping all over as I've been running the gamut of emotions and associated family dynamics that are six generations deep.  Yes.  I said it.  Six generations deep.  I've known my husband's family for SIX generations of women.  How many of you out there have personally known family members that spanned six generations?  I'm guessing not many.  Does that make me an expert?  NO!  What that does make me is a very keen observer in how family karma and issues are passed down.  There are patterns that play out generation after generation.  The eldest female of Clan Whack-O I met was born in 1896.  The newest female was born in 2017.  ALL of them live(d) in Sonoma and Marin Counties. 

My sister-in-law had a name that one does not hear everyday.  It's not over-the-top weird, but it is not a name that is widely used.  When I was texting one of my CA besties letting her know what was going on with us (my friend lives up the street and the noticed the flurry of cars and people) autocorrect spelled my late sister-in-law's name as ACID.  

Yup.  That about fits it perfectly.  

Acid was the family enabler and head feces re-arranger (a.k.a. $h*+ disturber).  Acid has been mentioned several times over the seventeen year span of this blog.  Acid had two daughters, whom I refer to as Cain and Abel.  Cain, over the course of her life, would spend time in jail for various reasons ranging from voter fraud to stealing to auto theft to lord-only-knows-what-else.  

Cain would neglect her children to the point where the authorities had to be involved, drink herself into a drunken stupor and then trip at the doorway of Safeway.....and then SUE Safeway for selling a 50 year-old woman liquor (Safeway should have KNOWN better to sell liquor to an adult with a valid identification).  They just wanted a cash settlement from Safeway for more booze money. 

Oh, we have not even mentioned where Cain felt up her preteen nephew at a holiday family dinner function and Acid took the side of Cain (oh, it should be excused as Cain had too much to drink to which I said -- BULLSH*T!

That was the end of it for me.  I don't care how much booze you've had.  You don't feel up your preteen nephew as the 45 year-old aunt at a holiday dinner (or any dinner for that matter) and not expect repercussions from the rest of us wanting to toss Cain out into the street IMMEDIATELY.  

Again, I am the BAD GUY for holding Cain accountable and ruining the holiday dinner and telling her she is a sick f***!  Somebody had to  stick up for my nephew, who is the victim of incest and sexual assault.  Yup.  I am the one exiled from Clan Whack-O along with my husband and kids.  What a blessing.  When my kids got married it was a few less wild cards at their weddings as we did not invite them to either one. 

Whew.  Bullet dodged.  Anyway, I'm getting off track.

All of this child molestation, alcoholism, child neglect that Cain did was excused by Acid.  Cain was NEVER responsible for ANYTHING.  Acid would defend Cain to a fault.  I dared to speak up to the dysfunction only to be shot down.   I never played into their sick little dysfunction game and never coddled nor enabled Cain; therefore, I was the "bad guy" and continue to be to this day.  

As you can tell, Cain could do no wrong.  Cain is the Sim character you want to put in the pool and then remove the pool ladder so the character drowns. 

Where was Abel during all of this?  She was rescuing both Acid and Cain from whatever she could because she is also an enabler of sorts.  

Well, well, well...........Acid is no longer around to enable Cain.  Cain is grasping at straws wondering what is next.  Her meal ticket and defender has died. 

Freddy's Beach House

 Over the past four or so years our family has befriended Freddy.  We have befriended Freddy because he is really close to my daughter's in-laws.  Freddy is always at family holidays and events.  He is a really congenial guy and also very smart. 

Freddy is the kind of guy who is generous almost to a fault.  He is also the kind of guy who has roots here in Sonoma County to where thoroughfares you drive on daily are named after his family and you don't even realize it. 

Great.  Steep roots in the county.  $$$$$$$ galore coming out his ga-zoo.   Freddy thinks nothing of spending $100's on a bottle of wine for a crappy back yard BBQ at our house where cheap beer would suffice.  

Where I'm going with this is Freddy has been diagnosed with terminal cancer.  His days are numbered.  He is not sitting around feeling sorry for himself.  He is building a deck for my daughter and son-in-law for their home (build date 1880's - so it's DUE).  

We were all at a family party not too long ago before Sissy and I knew of Freddy's condition.  Sissy and I were talking to Freddy and just engaging in party-type chit chat.  Freddy let on that he had this gorgeous beach house and one of his dying wishes was to have a blow-out party there before he got too sick from his cancer to enjoy it.  He wants the party to be his funeral.  He does not want people sad, crying, and having a downer of a time.  He wants to draw everybody together at his beach house while he is alive and have a kick @ss party while, in his words, "I don't have to have anybody wipe drool of my chin nor my @ss."

Well, the party has been scheduled.  I'm going to a funeral while the person is alive and cognizant.  That is the way he wants it.  He knows it is about to change rapidly.  

PARTY AT FREDDY'S BEACH HOUSE!!!  

I can't help but have mixed feelings about it.  I want to honor Freddy and his wanting to have a blow-out party at his beach house, but I'm still hopeful there is treatment for his cancer.  He truly is a good guy.  I want to help his wife plan for the party as one of my talents is cooking for large crowds.  I know they have butt-tons of money and could easily afford to cater everything but that is not the point.  I truly just want to show appreciation for the happiness Freddy has brought to our lives.   

Where I'm going is that all of Freddy's beach houses and all of his friends, could not put poor Freddy back together again.  

From the outside Freddy looks like he has the world by the b@llz.   He has all the exterior trappings our society fawns over.  He has houses galore, property galore, blah, blah, blah, galore.  Here's the truth:  He is sad and dying.  He is lonely despite being married.  

All the glitz means NOTHING when the final days are being ticked off on the wall.  

 All your material possessions, no matter how fancy and desirable, mean absolutely nothing at the end.  Why do we fight so hard during our lifetimes to accumulate? 

That's all. 

 

 

French Bulldogs Part II

 Sonoma County is a small place.  My hairdresser's father had a litter of French bulldog puppies about a year and a half ago.  Several female members of my family go to the same hair dresser that I do....why?  Because it's Sonoma County.  If you find a decent hairdresser you hang on for dear life.  

Why does any of this matter? Because my niece got one of my hairdresser's father's French bulldog puppies.  

Are you following the bouncing ball?  I don't blame you if you don't.  It's my in-law's family and I can't even keep track.

Here's where I'm going.  Nobody likes their French bulldog pup.  They are hyper.  They jump and piss all over everything.  They are obnoxious.  

My hairdresser, who loves dogs, told me how sorry she was for taking in a pup from her dad's French bulldog litter.  Same statement from my niece, who also took one of the pups.

Moral of the story:  Don't get sucked into the "breed of the day" fad.  

Want to See Tesla Drivers Loose Their $h*+?

 Here's a new sport for you all.  We all know the self-righteous environmentalists who claim they love the earth, save baby seals, photograph polar bears, etc., etc., etc.....

Here's where they have cognitive dissonance (a-hem hypocrisy) when called on their own bull.  

Did you know that those who drive around their electric vehicles, over the course of one year, eradicate their so-called care for the environment with ONE plane trip?  

Yup.  One plane trip wipes out what they think they "saved" the environment from.

Air travel is a HUGE component to fossil-fuel emissions that contribute to global warming.  However, the self-righteous Tesla drivers, et al, don't want to deal with that little inconvenient truth.   

I had a dialogue with a so-call environmentalist who cares so much about global warming and the earth the other day.  However, he thinks NOTHING of his own travel that involves planes, trains, and automobiles to photograph polar bears in the arctic while his photography blog laments about the impact on the bears because of global warming.  HE IS CAUSING IT AS WELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Why do all the environmentalists want to pat themselves on the back for driving an electric vehicle and then turn around and pollute the air on their self-indulgent adventures?  

You have no idea as to the trouble I stirred up even bringing this up.  

I love it.

I Don't Get It

 It's Super Tuesday as far as elections go.  Here's what I don't understand.  Nobody likes the two supposed front runners.  However, how do they get to where they are?  

PEOPLE MUST BE VOTING FOR THEM

So, why do you keep voting for people you despise? You are ENABLING the corrupt SYSTEM.  Go outside of the box!  

Nobody likes our California congressional front runners, either.  However, they are getting votes.  WTF??????  The ones who can help us the most are getting the least number of votes. 

I just don't understand how people we can't stand keep getting projected into office.  There is a disconnect somewhere.  Who is voting for these candidates NOBODY likes??????? 

Bottom line:  There are other names on the ballot who may not have the $lick television advertisements.  Those are the people you really want to vote for.  They are not bought and paid for.  I wish I could shake people and tell them that glitter-bombing television ads does not a good candidate make. 

Low-Low-Low-Low-Low-Low=Low

OK, this is a mandatory song that is played at all wedding receptions as of late.  It is also a song that is played at my old lady exercise class.  At age 50+ I can still get low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low.  I proved it today in the park.  AND BONUS!  Turned around and got my big booty a slap!