Cultural Musings

Breakfast for dinner night. Jack came to visit with the makings of a wonderful bacon, sausage and eggs dinner with "special recipe" pancakes complete with real maple syrup purchased specially at Whole Foods.

We watched the Bush/Kerry debate and enjoyed our snarky running commentary of the candidates' physical quirks and attempts to disguise their moments of irritation. George W. sure does betray himself with the tense mouth and tight lips. Kerry seemed fairly controlled, but I'm sure I detected a flash or two in his eyes toward the end.

I spent a ridiculous day playing phone tag with minimal result for all the effort. I'm beginning to understand why people rage and bitch about the Social Security Administration. I negotiated a phone tree, then waited to speak to a sullen, oppositional clerk who insisited that my inquiry was "not possible" (despite my having been referred to the department by one their own employees.) I phoned back an hour later, spoke with a different clerk who gave me the information I needed without the slightest resistance or argument. It must be nice to be a civil servant in a agency where one can screw over the public or anyone else with very little likelihood of being fired or facing consequences.



I keep having these vivid dreams of being in the 17th century. Almost every night I awaken from some dreamt encounter with people in period costume, it could make a reasonable argument for the validity of past life memory.

We know we are neurotic when good fortune makes us anxious.
I had a long serious conversation with my father last night whereby he expressed his regrets at the probability his home will be liquidated and sold for cash immediately upon his death. (My only sibling has been eying this future event with a mixture of practical acquisitiveness and an icy lack of either sentiment or dread of the demise of our father.)
I expressed my sadness at the prospect of the family home being sold off and the equity squandered and memories discarded like last season's lawn trimmings. Dad surprised me by offering to put my name on the deed with rights of full ownership upon his death. This will remain confidential in order to postpone the inevitable angry wrath of my sib who will be denied the opportunity to cash in.

So now, the anxiety and obsessive worry begins. Will the sibling relationship be destroyed? We "get along" superficially, but have very different values and a long history of uneasy mistrust. There will also be cash assets and other property to be split between us so it isn't as though she is being cut out of the estate distribution.

Will I actually be ready to move from the city to live in an outlying suburban home an hour away? I could live very comfortably back in the old family house, but I would have to give up my beachside apartment or straddle between two residences. I suppose many people would relish the luxury and I am sure there are many lucky folk who live this way with nary a regret.

I feel loved and honored that Daddy trusts me to retain the family home, but I am confronted with his mortality and the associated grief and loss that will ensue. Mom's death was gut wrenching to endure and I just can't stand the thought of having to experience something like that again anytime soon.

My sister will not cry for Daddy's passing or miss his presence. She was Mommy's girl and didn't really cry much when our mother died. Our maternal grandmother died after Mom so Grandma's estate was administered by my sibling. She didn't cry when Grandma died, but neither was she completely devoid of emotion. Inheriting the lion's share of the estate put a very big smile on her face and gave her the money to purchase an upscale house and lifestyle. Upscale lifestyles are expensive to maintain and when the money dwindles it it extremely convenient to have another inheritance to refill the coffers.

My first attempt at a Blog. I hope to have many thoughts to share and stories to share as time passes. At the moment, I'm not certain what will appear to the world in my profile section.