Hangin' In a Chow Line

There was a Good Times marathon on TV Land this weekend. I was still swimming around in my dad's pants when this show was on the air, so this was my first time seeing it. Anyway, in one of the episodes, the Evans' are standing around in the living room when the father tells the younger son to go to his room, to which the kid replies, "Dad, this is my room. Remember me, the kid that sleeps on the couch?"

I found that line rather interesting, not only because of the slightly uncomfortable feeling I got from laughing at a lower class black family, but also because I'd just spent two nights sleeping on my parents' couch. And it looks like I will be for the foreseeable future.

Wait. Let's back up for a minute. Remember last month when my grandmother was in a car accident? After that, it seemed clear that at 86 years old, she should really have someone living with her to take care of her. I asked my mom if she thought it would be a good idea if Michele, Brianna and I moved in with her. My mom agreed, and we approached 'Olly about it. We went to her house and explained how we could help around the house, cook dinner, and drive her anywhere she needed to go. I told her we could move our stuff into the basement, and all we'd need to do is seal it and put up a few walls. Brianna could sleep in the guest room across 'Olly's. She was all for it, even suggesting that we could move our furniture into the guest room and use the small room where she watches TV as Brianna's bedroom.

We stayed there overnight, and the next morning my grandmother told my mom how nice it was to have people in the house again and she hadn't slept so well in years. She went grocery shopping with my mom the next day and started buying all kinds of food. My mom asked her what it was for, and she said, "It's for the kids." My mom told her that we wouldn't be moving until August.

Once everything was settled, we told our landlord that we'd be moving at the end of the month. He said he just needed it in writing. So we drove over to 'Olly's house to do some more cleaning and let her know that we gave the landlord our notice.

"Oh...I don't know if I really want anybody living here. I'm so used to being alone."

"WHAT?!!"

She went on to say that she goes to bed at eleven and wakes up at eight. I still have no idea what that has to do with anything, but I know my chest started to tighten as she said it. She said she didn't want her taxes to go up, and that she forgets things, and to be honest, I don't really remember what else she said. I only remember feeling really uncomfortable. Michele and I took Brianna and went back over to my parent's house. My uncle, who as at my grandmother's house just before we got there, was talking to my mom. They were all talking in the living room and no one was talking to me or Michele. What the hell was going on?

We drove back to Quincy. I knocked on the landlord's door and told him that we weren't moving after all, at least not yet. Over those few days, we had become convinced that moving back to Weymouth would be the best thing we could do. Aside from taking care of my grandmother, it would really help us get some bills payed off. We'd be closer to a lot of things; Michele's work, my parents and my friends. And Brianna would be able to play with the two girls that live next to my parents. She's always over there whenever we visit, and it's good for her to have friends. She's so lonely at our apartment. If we lived over there, she'd have other kids to play with whenever she wanted. She'd have a bigger room, and she'd go to the same elementary school I went to. I was really excited about that one.

I called my mom and asked what happened. She said she didn't know. My grandmother most have overthought the whole thing. For some reason, she thought we were going to be putting an addition on her house and making all these changes. No one ever said that! I said we'd put up a few walls over the existing cement ones in the basement. That's not an addition, and you don't have to pay any more in taxes for it. And even if she did, we'd be the one's who would pay for it. We didn't even have to do anything to change her house; we could have slept on the floor. As long as we were there to make sure she didn't leave the oven on or try to feed the coyotes in the woods out back some Chef Boy-Ar-Dee.

None of it made any sense. One of her excuses for wanting to live alone was that she forgets things. That was the whole point of us being there in the first place! Somehow, she completely changed her mind, and ever since then, everything that could possibly went wrong, did. In droves.

Michele's car became a money-eating machine. For two straight weeks, it consumed several hundred dollars in repairs. It wouldn't have mattered if we were moving, since the last month's rent was paid for when we moved in. But we were left trying to scrounge up enough money for rent. My family has subtlety approached the topic of us moving in to my grandmother a few times, but it's always met with, "Well,...."

So this weekend we decided that the only thing we can do is put our stuff in storage and move in with my parents until we can get back on our feet. I'm going to go back to the landlord and tell him we really are moving this time. I'm really going to miss my bed. The new sleeping arrangements are going to take some getting used to. I'll be sleeping on the couch in the TV room. Michele's going to be on a different couch, partly because couches aren't big enough for two people to sleep on, but also because my dad threw a huge hissy fit when he found out Michele slept in my room one night when I was living there last year. I was a mere 25-year-old lad, so you can imagine the scandal. Brianna gets to sleep on a queen-size air mattress. I tried sleeping on it, but it killed my back. I'm okay with the couch. But I'm really going to miss my bed.

We spent the weekend there, getting used to the new conditions. On Sunday Nick, Hedie and Jose came over. We played a few rounds of Cranium, and Wah-Kee showed up a little later, just in time for some ribs. At dusk, which I don't think I get to say nearly enough, we played wiffle ball. Not real wiffle ball, it was sort of a make-up-the-rules-as-you-go-along wiffle ball. There were no bases, and no position players. Just a pitcher, a catcher, and someone standing in the outfield, i.e. a few feet behind the pitcher. We did eventually garb a newspaper to use as home plate, to make it easier to call a ball or a strike. We might refine it a bit next week, but the real reason I brought it up today was to point out that at one point, an easy pop up was missed by Wah-Kee in the outfield because he had a cigarette in his hand. Oh, and also, I'm a pretty good hitter, but I don't think I'll be pitching next week. Unless we want to go for some sort of hit batters record. In that case, I'm your man.

So anyway, for better or worse, I'll be moving back to Weymouth by September 1. At least I'll be closer to my friends. Except Nick and Hedie. After about five years in the chicken shack (with all of their wedding gifts in storage since April), they'll be moving by September...to Quincy!