Carthage

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September 10, 2004

The unseen good old man

We've gotten a few pieces of mail addressed "To The Estate Of" for the guy who used to live in our apartment. I, in my ignorance of polite euphemisms, thought this meant he was just, you know, rich, with an estate, but the Lad says this means he is dead.

You might begin to wonder, did he die in this very apartment? You might be sitting on the red couch (which for various complex reasons is referred to as the white couch, despite the actual white couch sitting next to it), hating yourself for watching Dark Angel and eating a cupcake Kati Vol left in your fridge. It would be around 10:30 at night, and the Lad is in Boston, and all the other lights in the apartment are off, when you start to think about that adorable little window between the living room and bedroom. You start to imagine the benevolent, slightly pale face of a very old man suddenly peeking through that window, just watching you silently, terrifying only in this context but still terrifying. You might try to decide whether it would be more or less terrifying if he were to say hello. Or maybe the ghost of the old dead man will be angry, angry because the landlord remodeled the kitchen for us after he died, or angry because we're using the mirrored closet for the Lad's monster shelves when the old man would have put them somewhere else. In any case, his angry face would contort and scowl and roar and the difficulties then would be

1) trying to get past him to either the front or back door in this ridiculously circular apartment where he could come at you from either direction, and

2) trying to grab shoes and your wallet on the way out so that you will be able to hop on a well-lit and populated train to the Moms in the far east, and

3) trying to break your one-year lease by explaining that your apartment is haunted by a benevolent (or maybe rageful) dead old man.

Posted by didofoot at September 10, 2004 11:25 AM

Comments

when someone dies and you have a garage sale to get rid of their crap you get to call it an estate sale. which makes it seem more exciting. i enjoy watching the dumb fools who fall for it and end up looking at cracked plates.

Posted by: michele at September 10, 2004 12:19 PM

the moms got her wedding ring from an estate sale.

now someone post about wedding rings and we will be off and running.

Posted by: didofoot at September 10, 2004 01:07 PM

OOOOH!

Can I post about wedding rings? I need a good excuse for a rant.

Posted by: Dianna at September 10, 2004 01:28 PM

they're so...ROUND! grah!

Posted by: didofoot at September 10, 2004 01:36 PM

how would you rant about wedding rings, dianna? are you trying to buy one and are angry at prices? you know what will come next? a baby.

Posted by: michele at September 10, 2004 01:44 PM

babies are so...ROUND! GRAH!

Posted by: didofoot at September 10, 2004 01:46 PM

(grah is the noise of anger.)

Posted by: didofoot at September 10, 2004 01:46 PM

When the medieval Christian church decreed that wedding ceremonies must include a ring, they only specified ONE ring and that on the woman's finger. Why only one, and why on the woman? When you get a dog, you don't buy two collars and wear one yourself. You buy one and put it on the dog. That way, if the dog tries to run away, everyone will know he has an owner and someone will bring him back to you.

Charming. Add in a few rants about the diamond industry, retailers' incredibly offensive advertising campaigns, and the rest of that lot, and you've really got a recipe for pissing me off.

Posted by: Dianna at September 10, 2004 01:46 PM

her head will explode, watch out! it is so round! ARGH!

Posted by: michele at September 10, 2004 01:48 PM

my sikh friend told me that nose rings in india were originally much bigger and were worn attached by a chain to the ear, for yanking purposes when necessary.

michele, GRAH is the noise of anger. GRAH.

Posted by: didofoot at September 10, 2004 01:50 PM

yar, i know, but i wasn't angry about dianna's head exploding, i was scared. "argh!" is the noise of fear.

Posted by: michele at September 10, 2004 01:57 PM

i got my wedding band at an estate jewelry store.

Posted by: tracy at September 10, 2004 02:21 PM

It is no wonder that random passersby can't grasp Jason's sarcasm or Kristen's jokes. You make up your own damn words! GHAR! (ghar is the noise of frustration.)

Posted by: Danny at September 10, 2004 03:25 PM

Nod. Nod nod nod.
I'm giggling like a drunk catholic schoolgirl
That whole thing was delicious.

You know what else is delicious?

Cupcakes.
Cupcakes are.

Posted by: kati at September 10, 2004 06:06 PM

you know, at the time it was very scary. but i'm seeing the funny side now. and that is good, because here i am again sitting in the living room in the dark waiting for the lad to get home.

Posted by: didofoot at September 10, 2004 11:01 PM

Kati,
You've just made this entry the newest likely-to-get-more-hits-than-anybody-else's-entry winner with the phrase "drunk catholic schoolgirl"

Posted by: gene at September 11, 2004 07:10 AM

wedding rings still serve an ownership function. mine gets heavier when i talk to other women.

Posted by: holohan at September 11, 2004 08:31 AM

Although I'm sure her actual wedding ring came from the Diamond Center back in the 80's, my stepmom has recently taken to attending government seizure auctions for all her diamond needs. While I'm sure the IRS auctions and the bankruptcy repossession auctions have great deals, what I'm really interested in (and where she says the best stuff is) is the auctions where they sell off stuff that was seized during major drug busts. Where else can you get a bullet-proof Mercedes or a gold and diamond medallion in the form of your first initial without having them customized yourself? She told me she got a ring worth $10k at such an auction for $3k, and that there were quite a few men of marriageable age there bidding on diamond rings. Somehow I find it more amusing to think about someone's wedding ring having started out on some pimped out drug dealer's pinky finger than on some old lady's hand, who didn't end up spending the rest of her life in federal prison.

As for their being only one ring originally mandated by the church, I was watching that "Star Gate" TV show at a friend's house last night, and this cute, young alien couple were getting married. The guy put a wreatch called the "circle of fidelity" on her head, but he only had be yoked with some ruddy looking necklace called the "something-of-the brethren." So I guess she has to be faithful to him, but he only has to be a good friend to her. Damned alien chauvinism!

Posted by: Kristina at September 11, 2004 10:16 AM

update, dammit.

Posted by: tracy at September 15, 2004 09:34 AM

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