Family Funk

Jury Duty: Christopher Style

A couple of months ago, when Chris still lived here, I checked the mail and discovered a jury duty selection card. For Christopher. I was initially annoyed by this. I have never been called for jury duty and the boy is not yet 21 and has gotten his first summons? NOT fair. Then, I was excited because how cool is it to be called for jury duty? In my opinion, pretty cool.

Chris came home from wherever it was he had been, or maybe it was a couple of days later – I’m bad about telling people they have mail – and I gave him the card. He was not amused, to put it mildly.

He ranted about this all evening long. “Why should he have to go to jury duty when the system doesn’t work?” “Why should he have to go to jury duty when the system judges him harshly based on how he looks?” “Why should he have to go to jury duty when no lawyer is going to want him on a jury?” “Why should he have to go to jury duty and miss work and miss getting paid?” “It’s our anniversary, we had plans!” “It’s the week after we move, I’ll be too busy!”

On and on and on he went. TW and I both attempted to get him enthusiastic about this, without any luck. On and on he whined. Until I could not take it any longer. I used “The Denise Voice” and told him to adjust his attitude NOW. And I didn’t hear another word about it.

A couple of days before he was suppose to appear at the courthouse, I reminded him about it and he said he had taken the time off work and he’d be there. And, he was actually going in search of “appropriate clothing” right now (apparently his clothes were still at A’s mother’s house.)

On the day of jury duty, he called me…. disappointed because he had not been selected to sit on the trial. He had apparently begun to look forward to it and he found the whole process interesting. One of his former high school teachers had been called and he enjoyed chatting with him while they waited (nice that it was a teacher the boy actually liked since those have been few and far between since the good ole Howard Hawks days.) He was dismissed because the defense lawyer asked him if it would be a financial hardship for him to be on the jury, and miss work all week. Chris admitted that it would be, particularly since he had missed the entire week before because of his move. So, they nicely thanked him for his time and dismissed him.

The kid actually said “I hope they call me again in a few years, I’d like to do it again. You were right.”

Duh. I am always right.

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The Phone Call: Another Chris Story

Last night, around 9:15, the phone rang. I was laying in bed, watching the LOGO/HRC debate on my laptop (I changed my mind and decided to turn it on and just sit on my email instead of really working.) I answered the phone, only half listening because Edwards had just been asked what he would do if someone on his staff came out as TG… Chris was on the phone.

M: Hey, how’s it going.
C: Fine, how are you?
M: Not bad.
C: Good
Silence
M: What’s up? How’s the storm over there?
C: That’s why I called, we were at the movie and when we came out everything was flooded. And the storm is bad.
M: Yep, the lightning is crazy.
C: Yea, so I was just calling to check in and see if everything was ok over there.
Silence
M: (stifling a laugh, mouth hanging open, completely missing Edwards’ response to the question) We’re fine, everything ok there? You’ve got electricity still?
C: Oh yea, we’re fine. No problem.
M: OK good. Stay home and don’t drive.
C: Oh we won’t, (A says Hi).
M: (Hi A) OK I’m gonna hang up and finish watching the queer LOGO debate now.
C: OK talk to you later.

The boy called to check on us? WTF is that about? Crazy. Weird. Twilight Zone like.

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Moving Out: A Chris Story

Lee always says I don’t post enough Chris stories. She’s right, I don’t. I’ll work on that and it’s particularly easy right now because the boy has been driving me nuts.

For months he’s been talking about saving enough money to move out. I guess he was tired of free room and board living in the Florida room because sure enough, he and his g/f saved enough money for deposits on an apartment and their utlity deposits. They found a place in April (or was it May) and signed a lease that would move them in on August 1. They were excited.

Immediately following the signing of the lease they made noises about cleaning their room and packing their stuff. That lasted about 30 seconds and resulted in 3 bags of trash being carried out to the garbage bin.

In early June, Chris asked for packing tape. I gave him my only roll and told him to enjoy! He packed one box (and didn’t return my tape.)

In late June, he and A had a brilliant idea. They would put all of their clothes into trash bags and take them to A’s mom’s house to wash. I’m not kidding when I say ALL of their clothes. They were unable to decide which clothes were clean and which were dirty so they figured they’d start fresh – with everything washed. After 3 nights of washing clothes over there, they returned with no clothing. They decided they would leave the clean clothes at A’s mom’s house rather than risk getting them all dirty again. This apparently left them with 3 changes of clothing to last a full month.

Second week of July, I asked whether they had started packing again. Chris sheepishly said “Not yet, but we have to do it soon.” Uh, yea.

Third week of July, we headed to BlogHer Con and assumed they would pack non-stop while we were gone. We returned, two days later than originally intended and one day before their move in date and no packing had taken place. None. When I questioned this, I got the following answer:

We decided to just move the big stuff over to the new place and then come back later and go through all of our stuff. This will make it easier to throw things away and not move trash from one house to another. Also, with the furniture out, there will be more room to pack boxes.

So, they’ve moved out. They’ve been in their new place for eight days. The Florida room looks like he still lives there – he’s taken nothing but his contraband animals (don’t ask), his computers, his amp, his TV and the one box he packed in June. Everything else is as he left it.

He says he’s coming over today to finish… his reasoning for doing it today was so that he could pack yellow city garbage bags full of trash and take them to the street immediately, rather than having them sit in the yard getting wet and possibly ripped open by wild animals.

Does anyone care to bet on whether he shows up today? Or whether he actually cleans everything out? The last time he came over here to get some stuff out of his room, he took an extra tea kettle and an extra crockpot from our pantry – and that was it.

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RE is a nut

And I mean that in the nicest way.

I just walked out to check the mail while the tablet was rebooting. The box was full because there was a small USPS box in there. Hmm, I couldn’t remember ordering anything so I assumed TW had. Nope, addressed to me. I look closely at the return address and at first I thought it was Em. But no, it’s from RE. What the heck?

So I opened it. A book. The Pact? What the F……. why would RE send me The Pact. Surely she knows I already own it. And then it hit me. This was the surprise I wasn’t supposed to know about (I do not like surprises) – I opened the cover and sure enough – it’s signed.

Which is nice.

But RE is still crazy.

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BlogHer Con 07 – City Centre

I’m very glad that I was not tempted into staying at the W. I’ve never been tempted to stay at a W, it’s just not for me. Yes, the awesome beds are a good thing but the “atmosphere” is enough to send me running. The Chicago City Centre had all the atmosphere I needed – very very friendly staff, quiet and quick elevators, very large rooms, free internet, corded in the room and wireless in the lobby, (though when I connected, it asked for cash it never followed through with a charge on my bill or requested a credit card). The little gift shop/convenience store was perfect – a lifesaver on two separate evenings.

There were only two tiny problems with the City Centre – on the last night of our stay, the person wandering the halls sliding bills under the door had a two-way radio and it was loud. And, their coke machines were constantly empty of coke and water. I will also admit that the beds were not “W” quality but I’ve slept in worse – including one horrible sleep experience in Chicago … but that’s another blog post, once I get caught up.

Edited to add a link to Liz’s post – yeah City Centre!

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Sorry mom….

Now we are trapped in a hotel in Charlotte.  It’s not a great hotel but as Prince J says, at least it isn’t called “The Inn of Charlotte”.  Thank goodness we can all be quite amusing at midnight after some pretty rough moments.

There are many things frustrating about this leg of our trip, besides the fact that we are all pretty smelly at this point.  And there’s no 24 hour Super Target near by where we can get clothing to cheer us up.

I could call my mom, wake her up, and beg her to come get us and make a quick trip to the store.  But I won’t ’cause she might disinherit me or something.  I will, however, call her at 7:30 and tell her we are here and to be prepared for us to call in a few hours … just in freaking case.

Boy are we ready to be home.

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Trapped in Chicago

We should be home right now. We should be doing the things we normally do at 10:23 am – like working, doing laundry, cleaning house – you know, that real life stuff that I actually miss when I’m traveling.

Instead, we’re trapped in Chicago. In a hotel that is not nearly as nice as the City Centre was (more about that once I am home). I’m on the floor because there isn’t a plug near the table except the one Prince J is using to charge his gameboy. TW is sleeping on a pull out couch. Prince J is sleeping in a roll away bed. Michelle is in a room of her own, somewhere high above us, probably griping because you have to pay for internet and I didn’t give her my credit card info when we finally got her into a room just shy of midnight.

To all of the flight attendants in the world, I have some advice for you. Do not open the rear hatch during those last flight checks. The slide will deploy and an already overbooked flight of people will not be happy with you. Oh no, they won’t be happy at all.

theslide.jpg

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7th Voyage of Sinbad!

Man I loved that movie when I was a kid. I think I saw it at the theater a half dozen times (My mother was a good woman, well she still is but she drove me and my brother and my friends across the Ashley before the days of the Mark Clark aka 526 to the Ultravision Theater – does that theater still exist? I don’t remember seeing it on Sam Rittenburg last week. Anyway, she drove us and came back and picked us up – over and over again.)

Sinbad is dead. Man I’m old.

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