I suppose I should say something about the whole Bastard Nation living up to there name concerning the New Orleans Protest, but truth be told, I never much gave a shit for them anyway. It’s all been said. I think it’s safe to say, after this latest display of incompetence with a twist of arrogance, nobody else that matters gives a shit for Bastard Nation either.
You’d rather hear about what my adoptive folks have been up to anyway.
A-mom and pop stopped by the store as they were headed to visit some family graves last weekend. Mom was in her perennial pink pant suit, looking very much like the big pink peonies that bloom this time of year. Dad was wearing one of his “better sport shirts”, so I was pretty sure they were planing to make a day of it.
They were in full “lively discussion” mode.
Mom: (minus her pine scented air freshener spray, spring is in the air, after all) We need to get some flowers for your folks graves.
Pop: (looking desperately for a place to hide out and keep a Marlboro company) We don’t need any damn flowers. They just steal them anyway.
Mom: Who would steal flowers off your folks grave? Who are they? Nobody disliked your folks.
Pop: They all steal flowers.
Mom: Who are they, Bob? And why are they targeting your parents grave?
Pop: They steal from everybody’s graves and put them on their own graves.
Mom: How do they put them on their own graves? You’re just a clown, Bob.
At this point they spot me, the magazine rack did not provide sufficient cover.
Mom: We’re going to decorate your father’s folks graves and he thinks someone will steal the flowers.
Me: Oh, (as if their previous conversation couldn’t be heard all over the store) I don’t think they’ll steal the flowers.
Pop: Yes, they will, they just wait for you to leave and they take them.
Me: Why would they be targeting your folks graves? Everybody liked Nanny and Grandpa. (Sometimes I just can’t help myself).
Mom: Your father thinks they put them on their own graves.
Me: How could they do that?
Mom: They are apparently ghosts.
Pop: No they put them on their relatives graves.
Me: Ghosts put them on their relatives graves?
Pop: No! Other people do.
Mom: Well, that makes more sense. Ghosts put them on their relatives graves.
I give a knowing nod.
Pop: No people steal them and put them on their dead relatives graves.
Me: Well that does makes more sense. I have a ton of memorial flowers, pick out a couple.
Pop: No, someone will just steal them.
Me: What’s it matter, you put them there for yourself anyway. It’s not like you are going to come back and pick them up anyway. The cemetery just throws them away after Memorial Day anyway.
Mom: Yeah why does it matter? Just pick something out.
About this time Pop heads to the bathroom for a cigarette and Mom gets interested in the new flavors of diet soda in the case. I get distracted by a customer and the next thing I know I see Pop’s truck pulling out of the lot. About five minutes later the truck pulls back in, and here they come.
Mom: You were just trying not to get any flowers, weren’t you Bob?
Pop: They’ll just steal them anyway.
I grab a couple of memorial arrangements and head out and put them in truck. Mom and Pop continue around the store, discussing the rate of flower theft. I went to the back.
A few minutes later, I get a call. It’s Mom on the cell phone. “You did put a couple of flower arrangemnts in the back of the truck, didn’t you?”, she screams (she still thinks you have to scream into the cell phone).
“Yes mom I did.”