Notes From A Walkman Junkie: My Mom’s (Mostly) Grievances With My Posts
As you may have figured out, my posts are all completely chocked-full of super truths with zero enhancements applied or liberties taken. Never. Ever. That being said, it only makes sense that at some point (nearly every post), I may offend and/or face disapproval from some (mom, mostly) of my readers. Well, here are a few of those reader’s grievances along with the (barely offensive/slightly incorrect/minimally exaggerated/relatively anger-making) corresponding bits from my posts.
My Post: “The list usually starts out relatively normal: Make sure guest room has clean sheets and towels, stock up on tasty snacks and beverages, etc., though, as the list progresses, it seems to steadily decline in practicality and reason: Get more furniture. You look ridiculous. How can you not even own one chair? Why is your television so small? Idiot.”
My mom’s grievance: “You have one chair, don’t you? You know, I still have all of those lovely linens and monogrammed towels that you left at my house so you really should come get them and I also have that flatware of yours if you need it and I think your TV is just fine–everyone has such big televisions now and I don’t think you are a ridiculous idiot, but you really do need a chair if you don’t have one–oh, and I have eighteen of your stuffed gorillas in my guest bedroom if you need them.”
My post: “As a whole, my holiday experience was quite gratifying and encompassed all of the standard elements to which I have grown accustom: Sweaters, cookies, milk punch, toys, bargaining, denial, anger, mom crying, acceptance.”
My mom’s grievance: “I do not cry every Christmas.”
My post: “I glanced around the yard to make an assessment and promptly located four chaise lounge chairs and began stacking them on top of each other under the balcony. I then clumsily began to climb the teetering mess of a home-crafted ladder and gradually (hours…..I took several resting breaks) was able to pull myself onto the ledge. At this point, my mother had heard the ruckus and was wide awake, firmly clutching a stun gun and barked, “Who is there?!” to which I frantically answered, “It’s Anne, it’s Anne” to which she quipped, “How the hell did you get up here?” and I bluntly stated, “Chaise lounges mostly.”
My mom’s grievance: “You know, It was very dangerous to be running around during all hours of the night–what were you doing?–we had a murderer living in our neighborhood, remember? And those girls were missing and that is why I had that stun gun in the first place and we took those lessons so that we could all shoot people if we needed to and I had that shot gun that your father gave me…not sure if it was legal…but, you really did not even have to use it he said because just the sound of cocking it would scare anyone away and you are very lucky that I did not stun gun you.”
Additional grievance from anonymous angry reader: “It’s chaise longue, you dickhead.”
My post: “My mother, who unfortunately due to illness, had to cancel our Mother’s Day lunch plans (which completely blows the whole psychic prediction angle that I was going for when I signed the inside of her card–unless she just happens to be enjoying a tasty bowl of egg rolls and pork over vermicelli in a Vietnamese restaurant when she eventually reads it).”
My mom’s grievance: “No, I would have ordered the lemon grass beef or maybe that nice chicken cabbage salad that they have..something light or maybe soup, but nothing too spicy.”
My post: “I suggest simply blurting out a stern “No” (much like when disciplining an animal or senior prom night) anytime holiday inquiries arise. For example, let’s say Bob approaches you and comments on the cold weather or shopping or presents or your uncle’s drinking problem.”
My (possibly drunk–it was the holidays) Uncle Not Steve’s grievance: “Hey….you really should not talk about your uncle ‘Steve’ that way.” (Then we had many festive milk punches).
My post: “My clever plan had worked out flawlessly….except for the fact that my mom picked out the ugliest frames possible and the lenses were really thick.”
My mom’s grievance: “Those frames were darling and blue and I really think you must have been remembering the dangling google-eye glasses that you got for Christmas in your magic set that you liked so much and you could not use the fake vampire teeth that came in it because of the allergic reaction that you had to the seizure medication you were taking that you did not need.”
My post: “I then proceeded to pathetically mimic the sounds of a weird car start before eventually blurting out, “I think your Orges from Feldagarb fucked up my car.”
Helpful Dungeons and Dragons fan: “YOU KEEP MISSPELLING OGRES.”
So there you have it, a few grievances aired at last and I am sure there will be many more, including grievances about these grievances. I would just like to thank my mother in advance for her unwavering sense of humor–which I am counting on now as I may have taken some slight (gigantic) liberties in this post as well….
I am attaching “Major Leagues” by Pavement because my mom likes them. She told me once. Really.