phik

I am in Ohio, with k and Joe and Jacob and his family, to mourn the passing of Jacob’s dad. I had never met his family before, and, with the exception of one particularly awkward conversation with someone’s mother about how I will be responsible for the bankruptcy and/or death of her only son because I do not mandate that part of my employees’ hard-earned compensation be spent on a corrupt and out-of-control health care system against their wishes, I was shown all hospitality during a time in which I’m virtually certain that their most fervent desire was for all of these wonderfully well-intentioned fucks to get out of their house and leave them alone. At least that’s what I would be thinking. They really are nice people. To their credit, and to be totally clear for the record, they didn’t refer to me as a “well-intentioned fuck” even once that I am aware.

Jacob’s uncle George, if I must single out one person, is awesome. I regret that I will probably never have an occasion to meet him again.

Then we went out and had some beers and played some pool. Here is a picture that Joe took. Sometimes I call him Joey.

Good bye, New York. I had a fun afternoon in your crazy town.

Here’s a tip: if you have never spoken to me before, but you call and only say “This is Phoney McRingRing at 781.306.0878, thank you,” then I’m not going to call you back. This isn’t Little League, folks, this is the big show, and around here we need details.

The comics were a big hit, and my sister called to thank me. Keep in mind that my sister has never called me in her entire life. Not one time, since I moved out of Ohio six years ago. Just to put that in some, you know, perspective. For a while I just assumed that their power and telephone service had been disconnected, but then I visited and there it was, still on.

We were supposed to get some kind of “tropical storm” today, but it’s just normal pissy Boston weather.

So I was gone for a few weeks there, and then I didn’t drive for a while, and did everyone go fucking batshit insane while I wasn’t looking? Was I transported onto an Indian highway, or rural China, but with better clam chowder? People like to complain about Boston driving, and actually it’s really pretty sweet because everyone is so aggressive, but fuck, people, there are rules.

When did you idiots start flashing your lights to mean don’t do something? Flashing your lights always means “please, I insist, after you” or at worst “hurry up and turn, I am being nice, you prick”. Two separate people flashed their lights at me during my drive to Jacob’s house, then got all indignant when I pulled out in front of them. Yes, my headlights were on. No, the high-beams were not. You can stop playing internet back-seat driver now.

Also: if you can’t handle rotaries, get out of New England.

My mom’s plane arrives at 17h today, so I told my sweet GPS gadget to find a route to Logan without taking any highways. It’s totally balls. I got to Logan from my house in 15 minutes during rush hour, on roads with signs that said “Warning: drive at your own risk” because some potholes had fossilized dinosaur remains in them.

We were driving around today and my mom kept asking me how my PDA knows where we are, and how I was keying that in so fast. She simply refused to believe that it was getting messages from space to pinpoint our location, until I showed her the screen that says “Acquiring Satellites”. I wonder what it’s like, to be blown away by learning that something unbelievable is really happening, right before your eyes. I think I read too much internet. I’m never really surprised by new technology.

Jacob has finally made his triumphant return to Boston, and he was rewarded with dinner with me and Joe and my mom and stepdad. He was really on, I think he’s been working on a new bit. My mom was totally unprepared for our rapid-fire conversation, jumping from topic to topic every 60 seconds, laced with indecipherable in-jokes and obscure near-cultural references.

I went to Brookline to help Joe and Jacob move a few last things from their old place, although I arrived after the mouse incident. I wonder if Simon contributed to that story.