Thoughts That Came To Me On Vacation

Rather than go into excurciating detail about my trip to my mother outlaw's, I have decided to focus on a few random things that came to me while I was away.  It's far better this way, believe me


Ok, so, my outlaw is a long island born and raised.  She's got that annoying lon guyland accent with the added bonus of the jewish old lady thing.  It makes for a cringe inducing sound.  And, yet, she did something that makes no sense at all to me.  Over the course of the week, she spoke about her daughter (not my wife) quite a bit and, after a while, it became harder and harder to hold back the laughter.  More so when, out of nowhere, my daughter pointed out the very thing I was thinking.

Let me back up a bit, for those of you who have been sheltered from the voice I am talking about.  Everything my mother in law says, that ends in an "a," like soda or Lisa, sounds more like "soder" or "liser."

Now, you'd think that, at some point, someone would point this out to the woman.  Hopefully they'd do it well in advance of her naming her first child Melissa.  That's right, a woman who can't say it properly still went that route.  So, every time she talks about her daughter she says "Melisser."

It's fucking funny.  I wonder if Anfernee Hardaway's mom had the same issue, only, when it came time to put her boy's name down on the birth certificate, someone who couldn't understand her, or spell, filled out the paperwork phoenetically.

What's even funnier about this and, again, my daughter managed to notice it as well, is that all words ending in "er" sound like "uh."

So, boiler becomes boiluh and so on.

Just listening to her drove me to the brink of insanity.

So, I did what any smart guy would do.  I booked a fishing trip.  I took my son, my uncle and my wife's cousin out for a day on the water.  Mostly to escape this woman who can kill me with her voice and who was on the bad side of douchey most of the week.  So much so that, at one point, my ever so astute daughter asked her why she was grumpy all the time.  She wasn't grumpy, she was on edge and mean. Mostly to my daughter.  She knows enough not to fuck with me although she did, in a show of extreme bravery, manage to invoke the fritatta that resulted in my not returning to her home down south for almost 6 years. 

Anyway, we went fishing.  It was fun.  My son slept most of the time, waking to eat a little and, at one point, to puke.  He wasn't sea sick really, just his usual puke and run moment. 

I, of course, brought my cell phone since, for the first few days of my trip, my emails were coming in nonstop.  Tons of work emails, from folks who knew I was on vacation and who should not be bothering me but decided they would anyway.  So, they'll pay a little extra this year for the imposition and I will try to forget how annoying they were.

Anyway, the battery on my cell is horrible so I left the phone off, turning it on periodically to see what more I had to deal with.  Until a few years ago, I would travel without access to my emails.  I would not bring a lap top, would not check my emails from hotel computers, would not even call into my office.  I would disappear for a week and, upon my return, I'd find that the world was still turning.  Somehow, now, it is imperative that we all carry a smartphone or some other device so we can get our email anywhere in the world, as soon as possible.

So, as I sat on the boat, watching my uncle haul in a kingfish, I checked my email.  Here's what I got.

Spam
Spam
Spam
Spam
Spam

So, thanks to advances in technology, I no longer have to worry about missing out on my oxycontin emails.  I can get my penile enlargement kit whilst climbing Mount Everest and I can be ensured of a raging erection that will keep her satisified for days while crossing the sands of the Sahara.

This is why we have smartphones, so scumbags can send us crapvertisements while we are in the farthest reaches of the globe.

I can't wait for the day when aliens come and we're exchanging technology and discussing our planets and Alf grabs a device from his space pouch, looks at it, grunts and tosses it back into the bag.  When his earthly counterpart asks what that was, Alf will say, thru a translation device of course, "I'm 12,000,000 miles from home but they still try and sell me shit to keep me from losing my fur."