Almost that time

Next Saturday I will be in New Jersey for Sybil's knee replacement. To prepare myself I've been ignoring all phone calls from my mother. After nine messages on Saturday and four on Sunday I finally called her this morning. There was no mention of the thirteen messages. When pressed for what was so important all Sybil could say was she forgot.

On another note, Sybil has been arranging my ride to her house from the airport by bargaining with a local taxi driver/ex mayor of Hillsdale.

This is the actual text the taxi driver sent my brother about the bargaining:

I hope mom gets through her surgery to attend my funeral. She is killing me with her bargaining!!!


This is going to be an amazing trip.

Did I mention I take off at 6 AM because Sybil bought me my ticket with mileage and a coupon for peaches.

Yes my mom bought me my ticket. It was the only way I would go.

Dangerous Minds

Recently there was a stabbing outside a school in the Bronx that Sybil worked in when she was eight months pregnant with me. Today Sybil reminisced about when she started working there, one rambunctious student took one look at her and said, "Lady, you have no business being in this school in your condition." I would like to believe that he was referring to her mental state, but more than likely he was referring to me kicking my way out.

My late brother, I mean sister

In 1977 tragedy struck. Sybil miscarried her third child. Forget the fact that Sybil was 40 back when 40 was considered a 100 and an absurd age to even think about having a kid, or the fact that she smoked, or even the fact that she didn't take any prenatal vitamins. The real reason she miscarried according to her was that our father made her work. If she was just able to stay at home with her children like all mothers should, she would have had a healthy third child. I like to pretend it was all my dad's fault because he threw her down the stairs.

I always wonder what that third child would have been like. I would have been relegated to being the middle child, but it might have been worth it to have a little brother to start fires with. Then again, it could have been a girl. All I picture is a miniature Sybil with half the fro and twice the lunacy. Maybe this happening was for the best. Obviously I mean my dad throwing my mom down the stairs.

You can't find good help these days

Sybil: There is snow everywhere. I need the driveway shoveled.
Barry: I doubt you will have a heart attack if you do it yourself. Kidding, why don't you hire someone?
Sybil: Where am I going to find someone who plows driveways?

I've had this conversation with Sybil regarding every topic under the sun; snow removal, house cleaning, plumbing, murder, you name it. I don't know if it's her aversion to paying people or she literally thinks there is no one who would do these things for money. I'm guessing it's the paying people to do things that she has a problem with. She wasn't always like this. At once point we had a housekeeper/live in maid/aid to my grandmother. Then again here's some information on some of those past housekeepers.

Eileen - Black Housekeeper that I would constantly ask if she showered. When she said yes I would ask her why she was still black. Due to my brother's racial insensitivity I thought a pumpernickel bagel was called an Eileen bagel. She quit.

Woman I can't remember her name - Cooked a chicken in it's plastic wrapper. She lasted one day. Apparently she was just released from a mental institution and wasn't ready for work.

Doloris - I think she was Haitian. When I was a baby my head stunk anytime she held me. My brother caught her kissing a minister from her church in our garage. She quit.

Marion - Nice woman from Jamaica, but she wasn't much younger than my grandmother. Used to make us Barbie cakes. I always ate the dress first. She had epilepsy and would occasionally have seizures in front of me. My mother kept her on after my grandmother died but didn't pay her. She lived with us for free. She has since retired to heaven.

Spanish Housekeeper - Stole my mom's jewelry and called Puerto Rico from our house phone. You know how Sybil feels about long distance. She was fired.

And the best of all:

Pat - White trash from neighboring town. My mother told me she was my dad's girlfriend. Very confusing. She stole my grandmother's social security check. Only gave it back when my mom told her if she cashed it she would be arrested. Shockingly wasn't fired. Fucked her boyfriend in my parents bed when they were out of town. Don't think the boyfriend was my dad. Used to beat my ass with a metal spatula (another story). Quit after my dad refused to buy her a Pinto.

I can't wait until Sybil starts interviewing aids for her knee replacement.

Flushing Q-Tips

This may seem minor but my mother flushes q-tips down the toilet. She cleans her ears and just tosses the waxy stick into the bowl. If you figure she uses two a day and has lived in her house 38 years, that is 27,740 q-tips for her alone. That doesn't factor in leap year, or the fact she told me and my brother to do the same thing. Now I would like to know how in all this time she has never had a plumbing issue? I actually thought this was totally normal until my early 20's when a roommate of mine caught me doing it and totally freaked out. I tried to explain what I learned to Sybil, but she just cocked her head and said I think that only applies to the generic brand of q-tips. I dropped it after that.

Father's Day?

It was just brought to my attention that today is Father's Day. I've never heard of this holiday. Growing up we celebrated Mother's Day and Your Father's A Bum And If Anyone Is Getting A Gift It's Me Day. I don't know why she was so hostile. I can make ash trays for both of them.

Because you're blek

In the late '70's when inflation was at an all time high Sybil was looking for some absurd places to park her money. Toyota Dealerships, Ostrich Farms, Gold bars. Out of all these ideas, gold seemed to be the one that made the most sense regardless of the fact gold was already at an all time high. It can never end right? So where do you actually find gold to buy? Do you go to a bank? Do you go to Zales and ask them to melt some chains down? I actually have no clue. Sybil though had a brilliant idea. She found someone selling krugerrands. For those of you that do not know, a krugerrand is a South African gold coin that at one time accounted for 90% of the global gold coin market. Thank you Wikipedia. Here's the problem. At the time, most western countries were banning the import of these coins because of South Africa's Apartheid government. The investment was seen in bad taste. I've made some poor investment choices (Tesla options), so I really can't fault Sybil for wanting to buy standardized gold coins regardless of their political association, but I can fault her for what she did with one of them. Now remember these coins symbolize a government that feels Blacks and Whites should be separated. Sybil took one of the coins and had it fixed so she could wear it on a chain. She worked in a predominately black school and she was going to wear a necklace that said Fuck You Black People to work.  I never actually saw her wear it but the whole idea is insane. She had some balls. When I asked her about it. She claimed it was because the coin was pretty. Makes sense.


Editor's Note - Sybil recently found two canceled checks for the krugerrands from 1978. Both checks had notes that they were for eleven coins and the amounts were the same. Sybil took this as she double paid for the coins. She actually called the place up and asked for her missing eleven coins. It's only been 35 years so I don't see any problem with her logic. Amazingly the company still had the records and said to Sybil "Nice try, the first check was canceled." So close!