We did end up going to Paramus Park. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to find anything, despite hitting three or four stores.
Now, I’m not one to speak ill of our glorious globalized economy, but I’ve come to this point where I realize that after a certain point if big label retailers don’t stock something, I’m kind of—well—fucked. I’m not, because I live five minutes from New York City, but for most of the nation I could create a catalog of everything they are able to purchase just by what is available in big-box stores. I find this a bit disturbing. Then again, I’m spoiled by being able to shop in the thrift stores of the Haight, where I found all my favorite things.
Today I played wheelchair-driver for my uncle. We went to Kohl’s and he got some pants and shirts. I tried to disguise my disgust when he jokingly suggested that I moonlight as a wheelchair-driver somewhere. I think I may have hinted about this in previous posts, but I have come to completely and utterly despise my uncle.
I want to get out the thesaurus to describe my utter disdain, but basically it can be summed up in the fact that he treats us like his servants and loves to be waited on. I prophesied it way back in the very beginning, when my grandma and mom came to visit to see him after the surgery. Being the ultimate skinflint, I knew he would come back to New Jersey even though he despised it here, because Grandma would wait on him for free.
Grandma was angry when she learned that he had told the social worker at his rehabilitation facility that Grandma was going to stay with him in California and take care of him (something she never even hinted that she would do). A terrible thing dawned on me on the way to Kotcher’s (the incredible German butcher in Ridgefield). The only thing that I will remember Jimmy for is him being cheap. it truly is the only memorable thing about him. He won’t pay bills. Ever. If his phone bill is $50, he’ll pay $40. If it’s $90, he’ll pay $30 and try to arrange a payment plan. This man made more than $100,000 a year for most of his life. He will be making $40,000 a year on annuities and disability alone. And you know what?
He hasn’t paid a fucking penny since he got here.
Not a single cent.
He’s been fed, clothed, ferried to his doctor’s appointments. We even got him one of those lifts so he could go up and down the stairs (with us attending, of course). It just makes me sick. But then again, he’s probably going to die soon. But the terrible thing is, that doesn’t make me any more tolerant of his behavior. It just infuriates me.
On a lighter note, I went out back today and cut down this big tree that was blocking the light to our future tomato garden. My mom was helping me out by steadying the ladder, and we were trying to get this one limb to fall on our side of the fence so I tied twine to it and had her pull on it when it was about to come down. I sawed the branch, the twine snapped, and the branch crashed down miraculously on our side of the fence without falling on the house. We were in stitches.
Afterwards, my mom and I watched The Prestige in high-definition on my awesome monitor. It was cool, but the video kept generating artifacts every minute or so. I couldn’t tell if it was the video file that was malformed in some way or it was that my computer was too slow to play it without stuttering. She really liked the movie.
I feel like there’s some show on Monday, but I can’t really be sure. Ah, it’s a performance of Philip Glass works. I think I will go in the late afternoon after I’m done with work to check out the venue. The advantage to not buying anything this weekend is that I can attend more shows. Amadou & Mariam here I come!
It’s nearly midnight. I need to go to sleep soon so I can get onto a better East Coast cycle.