Thursday, August 29, 2013
Would Sherlock Holmes wear colored chinos?
Throughout my early childhood I enjoyed solving mysteries. My first partner in crime was Encyclopedia Brown, a 12 year-old as clever as I considered myself to be. After a few years, I widened my mystery solving circle to include the Hardy Boys, including the book and the short-lived TV show starring Shaun Cassidy, Mr. “Da Doo Ron Ron” himself. Interesting side note, he is the son of Mama Partridge, Shirley Jones. His co-star was Parker Stevenson, possessor of the manliest feathered hair in TV history and ex-husband of one of my favorite stars, Kirstie Alley. I love Ms. Alley fat or thin; the same way I feel about Delta Burke, Sara Rue and Oprah.
The original definition of the word clue was “a ball of thread”. This is why you “unravel” a mystery. Those of you who have read my southern mystery (“A Gone Pecan” – available at your favorite online retailer) already knew that. Those of you, who haven’t bothered to buy my book, shame on you. You’re the reason I’m destitute! Yes, I said destitute! Well, not really. I just like the ego boost of a book sale. I’m only human, y’all.
Those of you who are familiar with my life know The Dad crochets, so lately I have been on a roll; unraveling threads both literally and figuratively. The figurative threads have been in relation to my father’s sudden uptick in visits outside our home. Prior to the last few months, he would only leave the house to go to his doctor appointments as I refused to take him anymore; hoping it would help him explore the area where we live. All it did was have him retaliate by refusing to drive me to the airport when I have to travel. But that is a small price to pay to help him alleviate some of his stress about living “not in the South”.
When he moved in with me I took over his finances as his financial savvy is on par with my small engine repair skills and, at his request, he must justify his “pocket money” each week. I’ll share our most recent conversation.
The Dad (TD): “I’m go’n need my pocket money for Wensdy. I’ve gotta go to the fruit market.”
Me: “The fruit market?”
TD: “You know…the…fairy market? Flea market? Fillin’ market?”
Me: “Fillin’ market? Like a fillin’ station? Do you think you’re in Mayberry, Sheriff Taylor?”
TD: Getting irritated, “No! You know that market at the hospital. It starts with an F. Frito market?
Me: With more attitude than was probably warranted, “Do you mean the farmer’s market?”
TD: “Yeah, that’s it. Boy you sure are mean early in the mornin’.”
Me: “I’ll ignore that. How much do you need?”
TD: “$20. Then I can get okry, tommy-toes and some snap beans.”
Me: “$20? Isn’t that a bit much for veggies? How much do they cost?”
TD: “Well, it’s $2 a pound for okry and I get two pounds. And it’s $2 a pound for tommy-toes and I get about 3 pounds and then it’s $2 a pound for snap beans and I get about 2 pounds of those. So that’s $20, just like last week.”
Me: “That’s actually less than $15. Where’s your change from last week?”
TD: “I spent it all. It costs $20.”
Me: “So you spent $4 on okra, $6 on tomatoes and $4 on snap beans?”
Me: “Six plus four plus four is 14, not 20. So how many cookies did you buy?”
TD: “Just one…um…I mean, none.”
Me: “Really? So how much fried chicken did you buy?”
TD: Suddenly defensive, “None, Mr. Smart Guy. They didn’t have fried chicken.”
Me: “So you had pizza instead?”
TD: “Yes. I mean, No!”
Me: “Uh, huh, let’s look at the old blood sugar diary shall we?”
TD: “You should’ve been a detective, butt hole.”
Me: “I agree but figuring out your spending habits is like playing Trivial Pursuit with Mike Tyson. It doesn’t take much effort.”
TD: “Why don’t you go play in the traffic?”
Me: “I love you, too, old man.”
And that is all I’m saying.