Monday, December 22, 2014
Avril Lavigne 'Let Go'
I don’t ask anyone to rise and kill. I don’t ask that they accept Jesus as their personal savior. I don’t ask that they join the Mickey Mouse Club.
I like to find the breaking points and just where my friends and family stand with public embarrassment.
My friend Sean Whitley is the same way. He has found a few of my breaking points. One comes to mind… Sean going all John ‘Animal House’ Belushi, sucking down jello squares from bowls at a Chinese buffet joint.
Just yesterday I thought I’d give it a shot with my nephew Preston, my sister Tina, and my father Delbert. We started towards West Virginia before the sun came up on a Saturday. We witnessed a few car accidents with at least one fatality during our yearly Christmas pilgrimage to our grandparents.
We had gotten a call halfway through our journey. My father answered his cell with his right hand and held it to his left ear while driving with his left hand. We came to an incline on the highway. My father was trying to figure out which hand to shift gears with instead of handing the phone to me. We started drifting to the right and I put my hand on the steering wheel to guide us away from a mailbox that was in our near future. My father got his bearings and we all breathed a sigh of relief.
I’m not sure, but I think Preston pulled a slug from his hip flask. (I'm kidding)
We were asked to pick up a half gallon of whole milk along with the pre-planned deli tray order.
We pulled into the parking lot and I noticed that the grocery store wasn’t called Ashley’s IGA any longer. My father told me that the Ashley family had sold out to “Jeweller’s” or something like that. I didn’t take time to digest the new name.
As we were opening the doors and spilling out of Tina’s SUV for the first stretch after about an hour and 15 minute drive. Dad stepped out and said, “Deli tray” as he counted down an index finger. Preston said, “Half gallon of whole milk.”
It was at this point that I noticed a woman walking towards her car from the store. I added to that list by saying, “And porno mags!” just as the woman got next to her car and well within hearing distance.
Preston busted out laughing, but Tina and my father just went on about their business. They didn’t flinch. They didn’t shoot me a “shut the hell up” look. They didn’t laugh. They just slipped on their jackets to walk around funny while working out their kinks.
They just didn’t seem to care. They were miles away from cracking.
I believe they have definitely become immune to anything that may come out of my mouth… Or they’re going deaf.