Weakends

No one's written anything in about a week, and I'm wondering what you're all doing with yourselves. How were your weekends?



I spent mine in central New York with my dad's parents. After a four hour car ride with my folks, complete with a sciatica flare-up, I watched as my dad and his dad rigged and installed a new sump pump (Google it) in the basement. My grandparents, like many old people, spend the winter months in a Naples condominium with the heat turned up to a temperature equal to that of the weather outside. Upon their return to New York, they discovered that part of their basement had been flooded, due to a broken pump. I watched as my grandfather, a former mechanical engineer (if your silverware says Oneida on it, thank him), opened up parts boxes of PVC pipes and metal clamps with a boyish grin. Much to my grandfather's surprise, sump pumps have had design changes since the 1950s, a fact that left him both intrigued and frustrated. He examined the back of a PVC parts box, looking for a manufacturing location, hoping he would gain insight into how the part fit into the whole. "Ah!" he exclaimed, and we looked at him with anticipation. "Crafty people, those Tai-Wah-Neese." My grandfather is intensely pro-American, when it comes to goods and services, and a part of me admires him deeply for that. When I bought my Subaru several years ago, he asked what kind of car it was. "A Subaru," I said. "Subaru?" he replied. "That doesn't sound American." After about four hours of tinkering, the new sump pump was installed and, judging by the stream of green water spewing from the plastic pipe in his backyard, it was working properly. He's an interesting man, my grandfather. An insight into what goes on in his mind: As my grandmother was showering Sunday morning, my grandfather told me he had done some calculations in his head. He figured that his 50,000 BTU hot water heater, plugged into an outlet of a specific voltage, would take approximately twelve minutes to refill and re-heat after a ten minute shower. These are the things he thinks about, and I am left to wonder, what happened to me that I can barely understand basic math?



My sister, her husband, and their daughter also made it out for the afternoon on Saturday. My niece is into ordering people around, and had us stand in various line formations throughout the house. Later, she made us roll her up like a little burrito inside a quilt my mom made for her. She also sings incessantly into her "High School Musical" microphone, a horrid little invention that encourages kids to sing along to the popular songs from the movie while at the same time amplifying their voices as if through a bullhorn. My grandparents' hearing has faded slightly over the years, the proof of which was noticeable when neither of them winced even once in the three hours my niece sang her little heart out.



Sunday afternoon, the three of us drove to Syracuse so my parents could see the addition my sister had put on her home. It's nice, but several of the windows weren't insulated and are prone to drafts. They also bought a cantaloupe-sized Shih-Tzu for Kayla, which she named "Onie". It's very puntable, but still too young for such activities.



Currently, I'm waiting to hear from the Plattsburgh School District about substitute teaching. I called them early last week, inquiring about my fingerprinting and application, and was informed that my background check had not yet cleared. Normally a four-week process, it's been about eight weeks since I sent out my fingerprints (taken by a police officer who told me he was upset with me because I wasn't a female between the ages of 21 and 27), and that they have yet to clear is making me a little nervous. Other than that, I've been volunteering at Planned Parentood here in Plattsburgh, where my girlfriend now works full-time, telling young girls over the phone that they cannot become pregnant by giving boys a handjob and getting jiz on their hand. Yes, sexual education has come a long way in our schools. It seems Bush's abstinence education program is really working, as children are no longer being taught anything about sex, and are instead being taught that sex makes you an evildoer and will contribute to the moral decay of America. On Good Friday, I stood out front of the PP building with a reproductive rights sign, waving it in the faces of the 100+ Catholic protesters who amassed on the sidewalk. In their eyes, I'm a "babykiller" in front of a "slaughterhouse." In my eyes, they're fucking loonies. So it goes.

I hope this day finds you all well. Write soon!