Please don't say it

I could be the only one, but nothing gets me more riled than a married woman claiming single motherhood.

“I feel like a single mother.”

“I’m a single mom this week.”

“&* !# , I’m doing everything! I don’t know how much longer I can handle being a single mother.”

Words thoughtlessly uttered by married women everywhere - and worse yet, in conversations with actual single mothers.

They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so I have convinced myself, in an effort to excuse the insensitivity, that, just by claiming temporary membership, they’re making an attempt to appear stronger, busier, more necessary, more capable, more responsible, more organized, and, as such, more of a mother. But, in fact, because they’re typically whining about handling only a partial load of that of a single mom, it really ends up serving the opposite purpose.

The most recent scenario that comes to mind went something like this:

Jackie’s husband had been out of work for a month. He was offered a consulting job three hours away. He had to accept, but it required him to be away from home during the week, only coming home on weekends. They have two children, nine and seven. About three weeks into the arrangement, she was worn out. I’d never seen her look so tired and frazzled.

“Joe’s working out of town is just so hard. I have to do everything. I have to get up, get breakfast ready, get the kids up, get them to school, clean the house, do the laundry, run errands, pick them up from school, get Joe Junior to soccer, get Lisa to ballet, get dinner on the table, help with homework, get them bathed and ready for bed, get their clothes ready for the next day, read them their bedtime stories and then make lunches for the next day and straighten the house before I get to bed, if I’m lucky, at midnight.”

She continued, “I don’t know how much longer I can be a single mother.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

She looked more than a little surprised and almost angry that I had found her situation funny. So, I tried to explain.

“You would need to add a lot more to that list to begin to qualify as a single mother:

Find a job,
Go to work,
Find reliable and safe babysitters while you work,
Be able to pay a babysitter,
Pay every single bill with your paycheck including Junior’s soccer and Lisa’s ballet fees,
Make sure everyone has health insurance,
Get the kids to the doctor’s and dentist’s offices while you work a full-time job,
Be able to afford the doctor and dentist,
Keep a job while navigating the kids through all their activities,
Keep a job when the kids are sick and you have to be at work and have no babysitter.

Until you can do all those day after day, week after week, month after month, and then year after year, and come to do them happily, proudly, and almost effortlessly, your thinking you are anything close to being a single mother is funny and I couldn’t help but laugh.”

She seemed to understand…for a second. “Oh, I know. It just feels like I’m alone. It must be so hard to really be a single mother. You guys don’t have a choice – you have to do everything.”

“Again, you really just don’t understand at all. We do have a choice. We have the same choice you do. We just choose to be single. We choose not to add the husband to the picture because we don’t really need or want one, whichever the case may be. It isn’t our priority. We are capable, strong, independent, thinking women who have chosen to live our lives to our own standards. As a result, we do typically demand a little more from people. And, thankfully, we seem to be raising grateful, independent, contributory, upstanding, rational, respectful, and thoughtful human beings.”

I don’t know if she really understood – she was super-busy after all. But because I believe single moms deserve much more respect than being so casually and thoughtlessly used in assertions such as hers, I will continue to correct anyone who falsely claims membership in the club.

And, somewhat proudly, know that she could never be one of us.

October 17th

I’m 42 and it just dawned on me. When moments of sometimes gentle and sometimes traumatic nudging towards life-altering change have happened in my life, they’ve consistently fallen on October 17th.

Just to name a few:

October 17, 2005, I will start a new project for work. I will be paid a salary I have never earned before. It will push me into a new tax bracket. I will also start some additional freelance work on this day.

October 17, 2002, I was offered a new job in Indianapolis, Indiana. It was also the day that my last severance check came in the mail from my previous job. I had no prospects for income until this day.

October 17, 1999, I realized the relationship with my ex-husband was irrevocably over. It was also the last day I would ever have sex. A relief on both counts.

October 17, 1998, I made a decision to finish my Bachelor’s degree and began looking for options. I immediately found a job prospect in Memphis, Tennessee, for a university that offered tuition benefits. I eventually got the position and relocated.

October 17, 1994, I was offered full-time employment with a company in Rome, Georgia, for which I had been consulting.

October 17, 1992, I met the only man I’ve ever truly loved for the first time. I loved him as soon as he spoke. It would take years, but I would eventually be glad in knowing that I was capable of such consuming love as well as unfathomable emotional pain when it ended. Until him, I had been proudly incapable of much feeling or emotion.

October 17, 1991, I quit my job at MCI to freelance full-time. This was the biggest career risk I have ever taken.

October 17, 1989, I found out I was pregnant with my only child.

Years before my son came along have blurred in my memory, but as I think back, year by year, I stop at 1980:

October 17, 1980, my mother passed away.

A psychic told me years ago that 10 is my number of significance, explaining that changes in my life will occur in the 10th month, 10th year, 10th day, etc. This, of course, would explain October. But, I suddenly unquestionably believe the 17th is significant because of my mother.

We were never close, but only because she was never quite happy with imperfection. She strove for the flawless life she knew as a child, yet never found as an adult. People let her down, and she never learned how to handle the disappointment.

That same psychic saw her over my shoulder. She said that my mother wanted to tell me that she apologized and that she was always with me. And that she thought “I was great, even if I didn’t know it”. This could have been the psychic reading into an old pain or it could have actually been my Mom.

I now choose to believe it was and is my mother. I have always thought of her, but have only recently understood that my anger and hurt was never my or her fault. And now, with my new revelation about the anniversary of her death, I feel a sense of gratitude and celebration.

I know my mother is celebrating my life with me, as we struggle happily and futilely toward perfection together.

-- Karen Rutherford
~ 560 words
October 2005

October 24, 2006: She was a week late, but, hey, it could happen to anybody. I accepted an offer and officially have a contract on my house in Mississippi that this single mother of a male high school junior - who whines that there's nothing in the house to eat the minute I put groceries away - has been paying for (in addition to our house here in Indy) since the renters moved out in June. Thank you, Mom and Baby Jesus!!

October 31, 2007: Austin was accepted to his top college choices.

An Unintentional Journey

He would be her one and only child. She didn’t know that at the time she gave birth, but since she had thought twice about bringing him into the world, she suspected. Motherhood wasn’t anything she had ever dreamed about. She never played dolls as a child, and, as an adult, never had pangs of envy when other women she knew had announced pregnancies. She had only held a baby once or twice and couldn’t even remember the circumstances. She never really knew why she had gone through with this pregnancy, other than lacking the money for an abortion.

But when she saw his pink, wrinkly face and his tiny body, she felt a sudden connection and responsibility. She finally had a purpose: she would learn how to be a mother. This made her think things would change. He would make her life better, happier, softer. He would bring love to the house and make it a home. He would make them a family.

A nurse at the hospital gave her a book of baby names after discovering that she didn’t already have any names in mind. With momentary hope and care, she named him Nathan, meaning “a gift”. The nurse sensed that she was alone and completely unprepared, so she searched the hospital for some of the basics: extra diapers, blankets and bottles, a diaper bag, and a carrier to use as a car seat. The staff didn’t typically allow new mothers to leave alone, but, in her case, they just didn’t have another choice. So she drove herself and her new gift home from the hospital.

Her husband came home from who knew where a few days later. He never acknowledged his son. He neither spoke to him nor about him and he did everything he could to avoid being anywhere near him. He just didn’t want to look at him at all. He swore Nathan wasn’t his child, so he snubbed any of her attempts at association. Her bothersome pleading became just another excuse to use her as his punching bag.

Before Nathan, she had the schedule down pat. Mondays were always bad days at work, Fridays were nights of drunken stupors, Saturdays were hangovers, and Sundays were boring days with nothing better to do. She had come to expect it and wondered what she had done wrong when it didn’t. She always saw it coming and felt good about having the foresight to mentally prepare. She really wasn’t as stupid as he always said she was.

But she couldn’t schedule things as well with Nathan in the house – babies being so unpredictable. She had to hide his cries, his needs, and as he got older, his every movement. She started making sure Nathan was never in the same room with his father, because she ached, not for the beatings to stop, but for the schedule to return.

She loved her son, but he seemed to be making things harder for her.

Still, she lived with this man for six years, raising her son in fear. The boy heard and sometimes saw his mother get beaten every week of his life. He usually hid in his closet so his father wouldn’t remember he even existed – not that he did anyway.

Eventually, her husband started to spend more and more time away from home and, ultimately, left her for another woman. He simply forgot to divorce her.

When the food ran out and the landlord demanded payment, she walked to a tiny church not too far away and knocked on the door. The woman who answered let her in and offered her some comfort by recommending that she apply for assistance at the local social services office. She also said that the church would add her to the prayer list that Sunday. The woman let her use the office phone to call and make an appointment for the following day.

The next morning, she put Nathan on the school bus and walked to the closest city bus stop, three miles away. At the welfare office, she discussed her situation with a caseworker named Jane who actually offered her a job. They needed some office help and Jane decided that she could work part-time while Nathan was in school. Jane referred her to an apartment complex nearby which was on the bus line and wouldn’t require a change of schools. Jane arranged to have some of her and Nathan’s things moved and found some donated furniture.

The apartment wasn’t really fit for stray dogs. A few windows were broken out, paint was peeling off the walls, the floors had unidentifiable stains she tried to clean but never could completely remove, the kitchen cabinets were full of chewed up holes and rat droppings, and the water from the taps was a color she had never seen before. But, it would have to do, because she barely earned enough money to pay the subsidized rent and feed herself and her son.

Over the next months, she didn’t look for a better job or a better apartment. The thoughts never really occurred to her.

And, after a year of waiting to see if her husband would come back to her, she finally filed for divorce. She thought about trying to get child support, but she never got around to starting the process. Jane thought about forcing the issue, but decided that it wasn’t her business. He would never pay a dime to help the son, that, in his eyes, he never had.

Luckily, just a few months later, she met a new man. After knowing him for three weeks, she moved herself and her son into his rented house. They all lived together for six years - six more miserable years. Though this man didn’t beat her up, he had so many obsessive rules and mental problems that she started longing for the dependability of physical torture.

He worked nights so he insisted that the house be in full darkness during the day. He duct-taped foil to all the windows and ordered that no lights should be turned on. He didn’t like noise much either, so there were no telephones or televisions. He had a car, but she couldn’t use it. It took just a few weeks for him to decide that it was too good for her.

She had one living relative: a sister who lived about 500 miles away. They had always enjoyed writing to each other over the years, but, when he started reading her mail and forbidding any communication, her sister eventually gave up trying to get through to her and never wrote again.

And so, every day, she came home from work and waited, sitting as motionless as possible on the couch, for Nathan to get home from school. She had to meet him at the door to make sure he didn’t make any noise. She learned how to cook meals according to his schedule (dinner was breakfast and breakfast was dinner) and without making a sound. Morning after morning, she and Nathan got ready for work and school in silent darkness so his sleeping wouldn’t be disturbed.

Soon after Nathan turned ten, Jane, her caseworker told her about a better job. It was full-time, still on the bus line, and paid more money. She didn’t like the idea, because Nathan would be alone in the house after school and she just knew he’d make noise. But her caseworker had been insistent. He was old enough to know the house rules, after all. She grudgingly interviewed and was surprised when she was offered the job.

With more money coming in, her boyfriend quit his job and stayed in the house sleeping most of the time. The only time he left the house was on her paydays. She signed her checks over to him and he gave her a weekly allowance, but it was never enough for household groceries and Nathan’s school lunches. She cooked huge meals at home and hoped her son didn’t get too hungry. Nathan never complained to anyone but himself.

And then, two years later, this man left her, too. She wondered why but had no way to contact him to find out. She stayed in his house and paid rent until his lease ran out. Nobody said a word so she stayed and just kept paying. She took the foil off the windows and got a phone and a television. She tried to contact her sister but the number had been disconnected and she didn't think to write. She never heard a word from the landlord when she met the next man and moved out.

He was 50 years old and had never been married. They met in the parking lot of the grocery store. She talked about him at work as women normally do, but nobody knew of him. They asked about his family, but she didn’t have much information. He never talked about anyone, other than an occasional casual mention of his mother who had died when he was in his twenties. It was surprising in their tiny town that nobody could place him at all. She took him to a company function once to show him off, but nobody seemed to like him. When she later prodded, they reluctantly told her there was something about him that just didn’t seem right.

But he had money. He had worked for the phone company since he was 18 years old and could retire anytime with full benefits. He paid cash for his house years ago. Finally, she had met someone who could support her and Nathan.

Six weeks after meeting him, she moved herself and her 12-year-old son into his house in the woods. It was so far in the country, their mail was held at the downtown post office because there essentially was no address for any delivery route. Luckily, 911 dispatch never had to find her.

Then, three weeks later, she quit her job. It was her only experience with money and she planned to enjoy every minute of it. He gave her money for lasik eye surgery, frequent makeovers at the mall, weekly massages and a new wardrobe. He also gave her an American Express card. They married about a month later.

And then the real trouble with Nathan started.

She never asked why, but her son and new husband didn’t get along. Her former co-workers reassuringly told her that he probably wasn't adjusting well to people being in his house after so many years living alone. They tried to be positive because she was so happy. He just didn’t seem to like Nathan very much at all.

He also didn’t like his new wife out of his sight for a minute. He was so jealous, so protective, only wanting her for himself. She thought he was so sweet and she felt more loved than she ever had in her entire life. She didn’t want to think about anything bad. If she thought too much, she might think about how hard things had been since Nathan came along. And she certainly didn’t want to think about her son ruining this wonderful new life for her.

She had spent so many unhappy years with no money and she vowed never to live like that again, no matter what. She was finally happy, able to afford things she wanted and living with a man who obviously cared so much about her. She just wanted to keep her husband happy, too, and, if that meant certain tiny sacrifices from her son, that was the way it had to be.

Despite her attempts, his complaints started almost immediately after they married. He had a long list of house rules and got upset at the slightest deviance. He had rules about how to fold clothes, how and when to cook, how and when to vacuum, how to eat at the dinner table. And he had written procedures for stocking the kitchen pantry, washing the car, mowing the lawn, making the beds, cleaning bathrooms. But she made sure all his demands were met. It was his house, after all, and she had no intention of leaving.

Buying things for Nathan wasn't easy either. Her husband had to approve any purchases for the boy. He gave her money for groceries with directions that it was for the two of them. He insisted that her son, at age 13, was old enough to get a job and fend for himself. He complained if he saw Nathan looking for extra snacks in the kitchen, doing too much laundry, taking much too long showers or asking his mother for anything. Nathan didn’t know what to do, so he tried his best to avoid him altogether. But his best wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t long before Nathan was moved into the attic to live.

The attic had its own door leading outside and stairs to the back patio. So, the annoyance of seeing him coming and going to and from school was not a problem anymore for her husband. They quickly installed a small kitchen and bathroom, eliminating the need for him to come downstairs at all. She would sneak her son food from the grocery store as often as she could without her husband noticing. Nathan learned to ask for extra helpings from the lunch lady at school, cook boxed macaroni and cheese and hot dogs and ate alone every night. Nobody cleaned for him, did his laundry, bought him clothes or shoes, helped him get to or from school, or even asked how he was doing. He still never complained to anyone.

The day he started his freshman year in high school, his mother and her husband were on vacation in Hawaii. Luckily, he was old enough to get himself there the first few days without any help. And he got a job after school to support himself in the attic.

When he graduated high school, she mailed a few announcements to make sure he would get some gifts, but he attended the ceremony alone.

The day he turned eighteen, Nathan walked to the recruiting office, signed the paperwork and left for Marine boot camp. He never talked to his mother again. He did not return her phone calls or letters and she gave up after a year of trying. As usual, she never really knew why.

And so, she lived in the woods with her husband. They stopped going to the tiny church that had helped her a lifetime ago. Then, they stopped going to the mall, to the grocery store, to the movies, or anywhere in town. They essentially disappeared. Initially, a few people from church and former jobs checked on her every so often. She snappily responded to everyone that asked that "things are fine". The questions became such a bother for her and people felt like their concerns weren’t welcome, so they stopped calling. And it didn’t take long to unintentionally forget about her.

Over the coming years, Nathan married and had three children. He was an excellent father. When his kids asked about their grandmother, he lied and said he was raised by his father, who, he lied some more, had died admirably in combat. He told them that he never knew his mother.

Her husband died twelve years later. It wasn’t long before the house became overgrown with weeds and grass. It had always been hard to detect from the street, but now it was barely visible at all. Eventually, it just seemed to disappear. With her in it.

Decades and decades passed. Nathan’s 40-year-old granddaughter ended up moving her family onto the property after she received a notice demanding back taxes. He would have hated these people taking over his land, but, if only on paper, they had been and always would be considered family.

She spent a full year demolishing the house and rebuilding it from scratch. When they jack hammered the foundation of the house, they found a dirt cellar below the kitchen. An old rusty lock was still attached to the shredded, termite ridden boards of what had once been the door. Inside, there was an old-fashioned hot plate, a small refrigerator, and a lamp still plugged into an extension cord hanging from an outlet in the kitchen above. There was a tiny table covered in cobwebs and dirt, and a thread-bare mattress used by generations of varmints. The undetectable blood stains had long since blended in with the Georgia red clay. When they looked more closely, they found an old Bible, resting between two mattress springs, still open to the passage she was reading. Yet, nobody would ever know she had even been there.

As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you. (Isaiah 66:13a)

-- Karen Rutherford, March 2006
-- ~ 2,800 words


Christmas 1970

I was seven years old and at the age when, way back then in simpler and slower times, most children just begin to seriously contemplate the logistics of Santa Claus’ annual visit. I had asked a million questions that Christmas season, but no explanation made sense.

I announced at the dinner table that Christmas Eve that I would be staying awake all night. I intended to prove once and for all that there was no Santa. After all, I was too grown up for this nonsense. With whom did they think they were dealing - a 5-year-old?

My parents agreed to the plan, but insisted that I still go to bed on time, explaining, for yet another year, that Santa only visited sleeping children and thinking, of course, that I wouldn’t last too long anyway once my head hit the pillow.

I reluctantly participated in their charade but I was confident that I would prove how silly this whole concept was. I knew there would be no signs of Santa that night.

I lay in my bed with the drapes open, staring out my window. I watched. I listened. And I waited. And waited. I refused to give in. I would not fall asleep! I was sure hours had gone by.

All of a sudden, I saw a tiny red light moving slowly across the sky. I jumped out of the bed and ran to the window for a closer look. Then I heard the bells. I saw the red light travel to the top of our neighbor’s roof and stop. The jingling stopped too. It was dark and I couldn’t see much, but there was no mistaking that light.

After a bit, the light took off again for the sky and the sound of jingling bells got louder. I couldn’t tell where Rudolph was going next, but I was positive that he was headed for my roof. I ran back under the covers and pretended to be fast asleep. I sure did hope that Santa didn’t see me watching him from my window!

Needless to say, I was a firm believer in Santa Claus for two more years.

_______

My father told me when I was a teenager that he and his best friend who lived next door had done all this from his friend’s deck. We were positioned on a corner lot and the back of our house faced the side of theirs. I had a perfect view of their roof and deck from my room. They had actually lain down on the deck so I couldn’t see them and shone a flashlight with red bulbs across the sky and onto the roof. My mother always insisted on a ridiculous amount of Christmas decorations, so they had no problem finding loud bells to jingle.

Today, I am the same age that my father was in 1970. As a parent, I can appreciate the desire to preserve our children’s innocence. And, as a middle-aged adult, I understand the power of Crown Royal on a winter night and the intense need for something fun, silly, and different to do.

-- Karen Rutherford, 2004
-- ~500 words

Jesus took me to the mall

I thought this topic needed something a little more - something special. I know it deserves more than my inept attempt at a poem.

But I desperately hope, if Deb finds her way here, that she will take it in the cute(!), funny, well-intentioned spirit in which it was written. And if Jesus reads it, I hope He knows how much we appreciate His gift of entertainment.

______________

Jesus took me to the mall By Karen Rutherford Circa 2005, the early poet years

______________

The famous poem “Footprints in the Sand” comes to mind
When Deb talks of how much time
She spends doing this and spends doing that
For every single person that never even has to ask.

But “Footprints in the Sand” feels full of peace
And Deb’s life is way too hectic, full of demands that never cease.
God could never carry Deb; she’s got too much to do and needs to move too fast.
Uphill, but outrunning the memories of the past.

One day recently, she ran out of time and called me in a frenzy.
“I’ve just got to slow down and listen to God and try to be less busy.
“There must be a sign in all this chaos, something to remind me of the key.
The light of God’s purpose I haven’t had a minute to see.”

We talked about praying for God to show her the way
To help her find time to still feel the meaning in each day.
And, indeed, that night in her dreams, He picked her up out of her bed.
“I’ll carry you to a place you go all the time but never really see,” He said.

There were people everywhere she looked, heading in every direction.
Seemingly no goals existed, or maybe too many to mention.
God helped her see herself in every aimless person.
He gently cradled her and told her that, with Him, she didn’t need to run

From things in the past, in the present, in the future; from things that spin her ‘round.
She now knew God was saying that it would be safe for her to slow down.
She called to say, “God answered my prayer and heeded my call.
It may sound silly, but I’ve never felt more at peace than the day Jesus took me to the mall.”

 

The Pool

Betty and Nadine, two single ladies noticeably past middle age and best friends since third grade, signed up for a water aerobics class at their local gym. Betty, the more adventurous one, had convinced Nadine that this could be a calm, stress-free way to get some of that low-impact exercise she’d been reading about. She also thought it could be an inconspicuous way to exercise while avoiding the twenty-year-old, thong-wearing, man-ogling women and the stereotypical, responsive men who inexplicably never forget to deposit their brains at the front door of the YMCA. But she graciously kept this opinion to herself.

The week before classes started, the two ladies went swimsuit shopping together to lessen the pain. Betty, the smaller of the two women by about seven pounds, was always the more confident one, but even this adventure was tugging at her resolve. So when Nadine’s dejected sighs got louder with each attempted suit, Betty tried to reassure her friend: “Remember, Nadine, we’ll be underwater most of the time.”

“How comforting,” she grimaced, but couldn’t help laughing to herself.

The following Tuesday evening, Betty picked Nadine up and they headed to their first class. They giggled nervously about wearing bathing suits for the first time in years. They joked about losing material in body parts unknown. They fretted about being the fattest women in the class. And being best friends, they encouraged each other enough so that it truly didn’t matter at all.

There were twelve women of all ages and sizes (it turned out that they were actually two of the smallest women in the group!) and one man obviously not there for any weight loss benefits. The women introduced themselves to each other as women do, but the stoic man smiled just enough to appear polite, never speaking to anyone.

The class lined up in front of a young, perky female instructor who obviously had an endless supply of motivation. Betty thought she was the perfect pick to lead this bunch!

And surprisingly, the class was a complete success. The ladies actually enjoyed themselves and were happy they went. Both of them actually looked forward to the next class!

Feeling much more comfortable in their suits than they had on Tuesday, Betty and Nadine strode confidently into the YMCA that Thursday night and headed for the pool.

Betty noticed it first. The only man in the class was already standing in the water waiting for the women to line up. And he was wearing nose plugs!

Why? Betty thought. Why did he need nose plugs? For the waves? Waves in a pool? There were no kids splashing around, no boats leaving wakes, no wind causing currents. For heaven’s sake, there were just women in the pool. Twelve women doing low-impact exercises. Twelve fairly large women. In the water. Moving and jumping and running …oh my.

The rest of the class arrived and noticed one by one, two by two. The man, who had said nothing to any of them, suddenly spoke volumes. Whispering, muttering, and shaking their heads in initial shame, then disgust for this man with no manners, they were determined to make the highest waves they possibly could. They would make him fight for every breath!

But it was too much for Nadine. Too embarrassed to exit the pool, she finished the class, but told Betty on the way home that she just couldn’t go back. And Betty, being the friend that she was, opted out in support. It was to be their second and last water aerobics class.

They made arrangements to meet Saturday to donate their new bathing suits to charity and go for Mexican.

“Food, Nadine, not A Mexican,” Betty joked, just to make her friend laugh.

The Thanksgiving Gift

On Friday, October 18th, 2002, I received my final severance check in the mail. I had been unemployed and unsuccessful in finding a new job for exactly three months. I was living in Horn Lake, Mississippi, a town that barely qualifies as a suburb of Memphis, Tennessee, and that certainly isn’t brimming with vacant jobs.

That afternoon, back at home after what I thought would be my last trip to a bank in my foreseeable future, I received a telephone call about a job in Indianapolis, Indiana, working as a contractor for Eli Lilly. After a few telephone interviews, my 12-year-old son and I drove to Indianapolis Sunday for a Monday morning meeting with who would be my new employer. We spent Monday afternoon arranging little details –things like negotiating salary and start date (they needed someone ASAP), learning about schools, finding a home, etc. We drove home Tuesday, October 22nd to arrange everything else.

The following Monday, ten days after the initial contact, I moved to Indianapolis, Indiana. I started my new job the next day. I left my son in our house with his father, who graciously agreed to temporarily move into my house and “baby-sit” his son. I wanted him to finish his fall semester at school and I felt better leaving him there until I had arranged our new life to be routine for him. It took almost two months to just recompose myself, so this turned out to be a smart plan.

For someone who had never spent more time than required by a 2-hour layover north of the Tennessee/Kentucky state line, nothing seemed the same to me: the streets, the stores, the businesses, the weather (I needed a coat in October!), the nicely kempt midwestern people with absolutely no accent (how do they do that?). In hindsight, it seems insignificant, but when giving directions here, they actually use east and west and north and south, rather than right and left, as in “Go South on Meridian, then west on Fall Creek”. Imagine! It really requires a lot of unnecessary thought as far as this southerner is concerned, but when you’ve no idea where you’re going in the first place, it can cause panic attacks!

It turned out that driving confusion would be the least of my worries. I learned the first day when signing the usual paperwork for benefits that my company’s paychecks weren’t current. I wouldn’t receive any pay until the end of November. My sign-on bonus reimbursing my moving expenses wouldn’t be paid until the end of December.

My apartment was a disaster. They had forgotten to include me on the maintenance list, so I had a long list of things that were unacceptable: Just to name a few, I had closet doors off their hinges and standing in halls, missing and falling window blinds, a sliding glass door with a broken lock, a refrigerator in which something had apparently died, cobwebs in more than just one or two corners, bathtubs with hairs in the drains, shower heads that produced trickles of running water because of gunk that they like to call “hard water” build-up. I also had no hot water the first night and following morning. The maintenance man explained that the hot water heater thermostat had been turned all the way down to save money while the apartment had been vacant. He also mentioned that he’d fix the rest of my “complaints” as soon as he could get to them.

My upstairs neighbors never stopped slamming cabinets and doors, pounding who knows what, and walking from room to room to room. Oh, I exaggerate. They seemed to rest between 1 A.M. and 5 A.M. But the ultimate contribution to my defeat was a woman in the adjacent building who curiously roamed the parking lot alone talking to imaginary people. Her husband would join her when he got home from work with a beer or two or fifty and they would both walk around talking to each other (I can only hope) until their three young children came outside to summon them home. Then the fun began.

She apparently enjoyed calling 911 and waiting outside, with her children, for the authorities to show up. The first night and every night thereafter, three or four police cars, an ambulance and a fire truck would respond, sirens-a-blaring. From what I could surmise, she thought her husband was trying to kill her. They’d calm her down, order the entire family back into their apartment (apparently neither she nor her husband were any real threat?), and then stand out in front of my building for an hour or so and chat….loudly. And to clarify, this was actually on a very nice side of town and considered one of the finest school districts in the city!

On the bright side, I was sleeping almost an hour each night.

I opened a checking account with what little money I had after my move because ATM fees were really adding up. I wrote five checks to pay some bills and they all bounced. Come to find out, the bank here has a policy about holding new account holders initial deposits for seven days. They just failed to tell me. $125 in fees later (which they did eventually reimburse), I had officially lost my mind.

By that weekend, I began to cry. And, I couldn’t stop. My mind was besieged with “What have I done!?!” and “I want to go home!” thoughts.

Throwing dignity to the wind, I cried so much to the apartment manager that she tore up my lease. I guess it would be somewhat pitiful to watch an average 40-year-old woman lose her mind. She told me that I could stay there as long as I needed, but that I could move anytime I wanted.

It took me almost two weeks, but I found an affordable, clean, newer, upstairs apartment in the same school district. My son would still be able to attend the middle school he had visited and “approved”. I arranged to move the weekend before Thanksgiving.

And I stopped crying….as much.

I had no idea how high things were about to look up. By mid-November, the best thing I never could have imagined happened. I’m typically not one to express too much emotion or admit defeat, but I was melting. I told a wonderful friend, Sheila, who was back in Memphis, about my recent crying spells. I told her that I had no idea if it was due to the haze of overwhelming change, the feeling of loss from my son not being with me (we had never been in different states for longer than a week at a time), or just plain worry. I was so worried about him already (with such fast change) and I really wanted him to spend some time in his new “home” before he actually moved over Christmas holidays.

She then asked me what we were doing for Thanksgiving. Driving to Mississippi and back twice to bring my son to Indianapolis was too much for the four-day break. I couldn’t stay with my ex-husband in my house, and he certainly had no plans of meeting me halfway. He was already doing me a favor by just living in my house, after all. There really was no logical way to spend the holiday with my son.

She asked about flying him from Memphis to Indy. She even offered to take him and pick him up at the airport. I began to cry again, not from self-pity, but because I was so touched by her generosity. He had flown before, so his “unaccompanied minor” status wasn’t an unfamiliar concern. But I couldn’t do it. I was so close to broke by this time and still had to pay for my second move!

The next day, I received an e-mail from American Airlines notifying me that I had been given a $250 gift certificate from Sheila and three other friends. She had recruited them to donate to my cause.

So, naturally, I cried again.

My son and I spent Thanksgiving together and he was actually excited about the new apartment I had chosen without him. By spending those four days together, it eased his mind and helped him to think of the move as a fun adventure.

And I finally stopped crying.

So far in my life, this will be THE memory of kindness that makes me smile during my last days. It’s undeniably amazing how fast God shows up when you least expect Him. And I certainly never suspected that He’d look just like Sheila!

--Karen Rutherford, 2004

(~1450 words)

Humble Book Review

I read Dan Miller’s 48 Days to the Work You Love this weekend. I expected a schedule, a calendar and step-by-step instructions as the title implies, but I didn’t find that. I have an e-mail in to find out where I went wrong as a reader, but haven’t received a reply yet.

I subscribe to Dan’s e-newsletter and love his site. He’s very inspirational and positive - much like Dave Ramsey is about money management. So, I did find the book to be the same. It was full of motivating quotes and statistics, uplifting anecdotes and self-help questions. But there was no schedule to follow. He explained why he picked 48 days (biblical reference, plus 8 extra days), but had no indication of what to do when.

I hope to amend this post when I hear from him or his “people”. I think there is a workbook that accompanies the book. Maybe that has the schedule, but, for now, I’m not sure I’d spend the money without knowing.

 

**UPDATE: Sure enough, there's a workbook that you can purchase to accompany the book that contains a detailed plan for the reader. I should've known this. :)

The Beginning

I will start at the beginning. Lucky for you! When we moved to Indianapolis in 2002, I signed a one-year lease on an apartment in the school district recommended to us. The idea was to find a house to rent by the end of that first lease. While I was delighted with my son’s school district, to this day, I have not found a house in which I’d let my dog live. The township is inside the city limits and consists of 1960’s ranch-style homes, one newly developed middle-class subdivision full of homeowners, million dollar homes around the governor’s mansion, and the ghetto.

Being a single mother without the benefit (and, in my eyes, aggravation - but that’s another thread entirely) of dual incomes in one household, I am limited to the 1960’s ranch homes and the ghetto. There are usually several 1960’s ranch homes available for rent at any given time, but if you want things like indoor plumbing, you pay a hefty price. Seriously, it’s actually $300 to $500 more money for more than one bathroom. Or for a bathroom post hippie-era. A 3-bedroom, 1-bath, never remodeled, never re-carpeted home can rent for $1500 per month easily.

Why don’t I just buy a house, then, you ask? After all, the tax savings alone…

To which I reply that I already have a house. I moved here in 10 days after living in my home for only three years, so instead of losing money I didn’t have, I put it up for rent. And, I don’t plan on staying in Indianapolis for too much longer, depending on my son’s college choice. My house is also currently up for sale, so I am now paying its mortgage each month as well.

So, I want to rent. I want to call a landlord to come replace a light bulb. I know I’m in the minority, but I sincerely don’t want to be a homeowner again for a while and not in Indianapolis.

Every time my apartment lease came to an end, we would diligently look for a rental house in the school district, but never had any luck. The houses I could (or wanted to) afford were embarrassing. I couldn’t imagine sitting on a toilet in one of these places. They never failed to disappoint, and most of the time, disgust me.

Therefore, I’ve renewed my lease and renewed and renewed and renewed. We can move anywhere (out of the school district) after the first semester of my son’s junior year in school (due to senior rights and not forcing a child out of the school mid-year), which occurs in December 2006. This opens doors to us – suburb doors and long-drive-to-school doors - but affordable and livable doors.

Kink in the plan, though: On June 10th, 2006, we arrived back at home after a 10-day trip to Mississippi to ready my house for sale and were welcomed by new neighbors downstairs. Boy neighbors. Two or three or four of them. At least. Noisy, pool-partying, up-all-night, smoking, apparently no-job-having boys. In the first week, their smoke detector went off three times. I can hear it among every other noise they make. (Two families of three, each with newborn babies, lived downstairs prior and I never heard one noise.) I now sleep with a fan on its highest level, a radio, and, as of this past weekend, am up to 3 Benadryl a night (apparently developing a tolerance).

Three days after our return, I discussed the situation with the property manager and discovered that I can move any time with no early termination of lease penalty since I’ve been there so long. Great news, but it is the summer before my son’s junior year, technically limiting our search to houses in his school district again. But given the choice between unreasonable rent and boy noise, I’m opting for the extra rent.

Now, you have the background. Next, a tour through the entertaining freaks and misfits met, thus far (because we still haven’t found a house), along the journey.

 

Fan Mail

For a perfect read, find Elizabeth Strout in the shelves….

March 10, 2006
Ms. Elizabeth Strout
c/o The Random House Publishing Group Publicity
1745 Broadway 18th Floor
New York, NY 10019

Dear Ms. Strout,

I never write letters like this, so please bear with me if I begin to babble too soon. I recently read a magazine blurb about your new March 14th book release during an unusually long stint in the Target EXPRESS (but I digress) check-out lane. I realized that I immediately smiled and began a better day and had an urge to let you know why.

You see, I feel like I know you. I attended the annual Eudora Welty Writers’ Symposium at the Mississippi University for Women in 2001, at which you spoke about your life’s windy path back to writing and read selections from Amy and Isabelle. I will never forget that conference, because, for somewhat unexplained reasons to me at the time, I spontaneously cried (as inconspicuously as possible) through a lot of it.

I majored in Journalism (at the time, the only writing-related field at the school) my first attempt at college in the early 1980’s and had several, honestly many, jobs completely unrelated to writing pursuits since. My career path eventually forced me into computer-related work strictly for financial single-parent reasons. So, in 2001, I was a Systems Developer. And lost. And sad. And miserable. It was as though you were reading my mind. I had gone into so many jobs that didn’t matter, just to avoid possibly failing at the one I really felt called to do.

This day being an up-close observer of the academic world and the writing world, and present in an area of the United States full of such culture and history was the first time I realized the connection between spirituality and authenticity. And I had ignored both most of my life.

Listening to you tell us about your life and your writing life comforted and inspired me so much. I bought your book and it is still one of my all-time favorites. Only two books in my life (and I consider myself a regular, if not avid, reader) have made me immediately miss the characters upon reading the last sentence: your Amy and Isabelle and Elinor Lipman’s Then She Found Me.

The theme of the conference was “A Kindred Soul to Laugh With” and you will always be that to this fan. A writer sometimes has no idea of the lasting effect she has on even the most inconspicuous audience member. Thus, the universal tug I felt to write and tell you how much I look forward to reading Abide With Me and appreciate just knowing that you’re out there writing.

I’m so excited! A new book! And it’s in Maine (my favorite place in the world)!

Thank you!
Karen Rutherford
Indianapolis, Indiana

Used Books

They were at least in their seventies. The wife was looking at paperback novels, when her husband spotted a chair near the window.

“I think I’m going to go sit down. I can hold the books you’ve picked out while you keep looking if you’d like.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he assured, and took a seat in the chair opening his arms so she could fill them with the dozen or so Agatha Christie books she had already picked out.

She laughed. “You know, I really have enough here. I don’t need any more.”

He looked at her and smiled. “Aw, you go ahead and get as many as you want.”

She accepted that with a nod and a smile and went back to the shelves, but just for a second.

She came back to him and started to thumb through the book spines, giggling. “I can’t remember what I already got.” He smiled and repositioned the stacks so she could see more easily.

She returned to her search and, in just a few minutes, came back to him and said, “I think I’m through looking. I really do have all I need.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

She smiled at him, and said she was. They went to the cashier, walking side by side, him carrying her books for her.

A Preferred Customer

Miss Hazel will be 76 this year. She has lived in or within 15 miles of Brownsville, Tennessee, all her life. When she turned 40 in 1969, she bought a brand new ranch-style house on a corner lot of a tiny subdivision on the outskirts of town. And she’s lived there ever since.

She commuted between Memphis and Brownsville several times in her life, but most importantly when she completed her Master’s degree in Education at age 45. She taught in the City of Brownsville and Shelby County schools the rest of her working life.

Even though the town of Brownsville is relatively small, with a population of around 10,000 people, it sure feels smaller to Miss Hazel. She either knows everyone or knows of everyone. And everyone knows her. I think it’s because of all those years teaching. She knew kids who grew into parents whose kids grew into parents.

For all those years of service to her community, Miss Hazel gets a few welcome perks. For example, since grocery shopping can add up to a long walk for someone in their seventies, management suggested that she park in the handicapped parking space at the E.W. James Supermarket until somebody in town had an unfortunate accident last winter and actually needed the space. But not long after, the store employees put up a big sign in front of the space next to it saying, “Preferred Customer Parking”, and designated it as Miss Hazel’s new spot.

The word spread pretty quickly among the store’s customers (the “new” Wal-Mart that came in 1995 took most of the business, so there weren’t as many people to notify). It wasn’t long before everyone just knew. They knew that Miss Hazel goes shopping every Thursday morning, without fail, (if she needs anything mid-week, she calls the store manager who just delivers what she needs on his way home) before going to get her hair done.

People use the spot on other days, but it is always vacant on Thursday mornings. I don’t know if Miss Hazel knows that other people use it the rest of the week. But if she did, she certainly wouldn’t mind.

She’d say, “Oh, that’s just grand, dahhlin’. I wouldn’t like to know that I’m the only preferred customer in town.”

Another perk that Miss Hazel didn’t even know about until recently, is that that she has had the luxury of choosing between two mailmen all these years. A walking city postal carrier delivers mail for her neighborhood and a rural driving postal carrier delivers mail for the county. Because she chose, when she moved in, to put her mailbox at the end of the driveway (it seemed like less trouble for the mailman at the time) that exits to a major highway, her mail has always been delivered by the rural carrier.

But one day recently, she decided it sure would be a blessing to have a nice new mailbox at her front door. It was getting harder each year to walk down the back steps to the mailbox at the end of the driveway. If it were at her front door, she wouldn’t even have to maneuver steps or, for that matter, even step outside. And that mailbox at the end of the drive was barely standing anymore anyway.

So she paid her “man” (the man who has served as her faithful handyman for years – he is a few years older than she is now) to buy a new mailbox, put it up and remove the old one.

She had discussed what she was doing with both mailmen and they all agreed that the walking carrier would just drop her mail in her new box just as he had done for her neighbors since his first day on the job.

It seemed easy…sensible….efficient.

Until she heard a knock on her door. Both mailmen proceeded to tell her that their bosses weren’t allowing the change. They had tried and tried, telling them again and again that it was fine with them, but they had profusely said “no”, as if they had been asked a question. It seemed that there were numerous city and rural post office regulations involving walking vs. driving, pay scales and unions.

Miss Hazel got contact information and started what would turn out to be an intense 48-hour ordeal. During this time, the rural carrier continued to deliver her mail, but because the mailbox was torn down, he had to park his truck and walk to Miss Hazel’s porch and “illegally” drop it in the mailbox at her front door. He didn’t like doing this, because he knew he could get into trouble.

“Listen, dahhhlin, if ANYONE finds out about this and gives you any trouble, you just tell them to come see me, Hazel Simmons.”

She started with phone calls to their bosses. She patiently explained the circumstances to each, but neither gave her the correct answer. Next, she called the postmasters of the county and the city offices who told her they couldn’t make the change she requested. She called the USPS Consumer Affairs office in Memphis and stayed on “hold” until she eventually got the Vice President’s voice mail. She left a message and, some time later, received a phone call telling her that there was nothing that could be done. She would need to replace the mailbox at the end of the driveway.

So, the next morning, Miss Hazel called her Congressman, 9th term Representative John Tanner. The following day, she had her mail delivered to the new mailbox at her front door by the suitable walking postal carrier. The rural carrier drove right past her stop, but not without smiling at her house and thinking about the woman inside.

“Isn’t it a shame the lengths we have to go through nowadays to get anything done,” Congressman Tanner had told her.

“Why, yes it is. But, I’ve been around for a while, I’m an educated woman, and I’ll be damned if I’d ever let a bureaucrat take from me what I know is rightfully mine.”

“Yes, ma’am, I agree completely. I wish more people like you would get involved and fight so diligently for their rights.”

“Well, thank you again. If you ever need anything, you just let me know. You know my address here in Brownsville. I’m almost certain that I voted for you at least once or twice.”

“Well, Ms. Simmons, I certainly do appreciate that. And you let me know if you have any more problems. In fact, let me give you my cell phone number. That way, you can contact me anytime.”

It seems Miss Hazel just can’t help being a preferred customer.

First Misfit Encounter

I spent a week listening to the boy noises downstairs, because my son was leaving for a long-anticipated trip to Japan, and I was preoccupied with sending him off. But the following Monday, I vowed to start making calls, which I did. I remember calling three or four numbers from the newspaper and signs I had seen driving to and from work, hearing the rent amount and the number of bedrooms and bathrooms and feeling discouraged. I dialed one more, sure that it wouldn’t be a good fit either. A lady answered the phone and we talked for a minute or two about her 3-bedroom, 2-bathroom, fenced yard, $995 per month house in the school district, when I stopped her to ask about pets.

“Oh, I have never accepted pets before, but what kind do you have?”

I explained about Sabrina. The lady didn’t seem deterred, gave me the address to drive by and take a look. I did and called to meet her at the house the next night to see the inside.

It was perfect (compared to what I had seen in the past and what I knew was available). It had big closets, an updated kitchen, big rooms, it suited us fine. I knew I wanted the house! I filled out the application that night and we arranged for me to drop it off in the house’s mailbox the next day so she could pick it up.

Then, the nightmare began. I must say that I already didn’t like this woman. She was a paranoid (perfectly suited for being a landlord!), home-schooling (I should’ve run like I normally try to do from these people), stay-at-home, 47-year-old mother of two small children who had opinions about everything, including me, my son, my dog, my life, and, actually, every word out of my mouth. But I thought to myself that she would go away! After all, she was only temporary during the pre-move-in process. Ha.

When I called the next morning to let her know that I had completed the paperwork and would drop it in the mailbox on my way home from work, she said, “Well, I’m going to be in your area running errands this evening, so why don’t I just drop by your apartment?” I panicked. Nobody comes to the apartment. It’s just not a place I like to have company. “What’s wrong? Why is this a problem for you?” (ACK!) “No, it’s not a problem at all, I’ll call you on my way home from a 4pm meeting at a client’s office.”

Without knowing the details about the woman, a friend assured me that she probably just wanted to check for dog odors, which was completely understandable. I was convinced, after the minimal conversations with the woman that she really wanted to see how I lived! Still thinking that I should go overboard to get this house, I went home and cleaned like a mad woman.

And she never came over. We met at a bank half-way between our houses because she was too tired after her long day to run any errands. At her request, I brought my freshly bathed dog, so she could determine her acceptability.

And so, she interviewed the dog. She didn’t like the length of her nails and wasn’t reassured by the looks of her propensity to shed. “You really should cut her nails more often,” were the exact words, I believe. (She’ll go away soon, she’ll go away soon.)

She called the next day with several words of wisdom about my application. It seemed that the events of my life weren’t quite up to her expectations. “Why did you work there less than a year?” (I’m a contractor, you loon. I’ve told you that repeatedly.)  “You really should pay this bill that your ex-husband owed, so it won’t be on your credit.” (One more “should” and I’m coming over there.)

The next day, she called because she needed proof from my apartment that I could early terminate the lease with no penalty. She had received a fax back from them verifying residency that showed that my lease didn’t expire until December. (We have discussed this, you whack job.) I agreed to drop off a copy of the lease clause in the house’s mailbox that afternoon and call her to tell her it was there for her to pick up.

I should’ve recognized clue #999 when for the second time, I found her in the driveway of the house. (The current tenants had not moved out yet!) I handed her the paper, to which she said, “This is just not normal. Nobody does this. We certainly wouldn’t do this.” And added that she needed a recent pay stub for proof of income. “Do you have a cell phone?” (You freak.) “Yes, I do. Why?” “Well, you could’ve called me and I would’ve brought it to you rather than my having to drive back home to get it and bring it back here.” “Oh, well, then, if that’s a problem, you can fax it to me tomorrow. I’ll be in my home office all day doing paperwork anyway. I had just hoped to make a decision on the house today, so I wouldn’t pay for another weekend ad.” (And that’s my fault?)

The next day at Kinko’s, I copied the check stub because it was yellow and appeared dark to me, even after lightening it on the machine. I called her to tell her I was faxing (as she instructed me to do), but told her I’d stay on the line with her in case it was still too dark to read. “Well, there is a lighten button on any copier. You need to push that button until it is light enough to read.” (If I lighten you, will you disappear?)

After all that, she called Sunday night to offer me the Taj Maha…I mean, house. My happiness wasn’t what I thought it would be. I asked for a copy of the lease I would need to sign so I could have that before turning in my 30-day notice to the apartments. “Well, I have never done that before. I planned to meet you Tuesday night, because I am busy all day Monday, to sign everything. You shouldn’t give notice until the end of the month anyway.” (More should’s.) She argued with me about giving a 30-day notice to my apartment complex. She was sure that they wouldn’t accept any day other than the beginning or end of a month. I was sure that any day would suffice. If I gave notice on the 15th of a month, I would vacate on the 15th of the following month and pay only for that time period. (After discussing this with her real-estate-lawyer husband, she called me back to concede.)

But more importantly, she sent the lease via email and it confirmed every last suspicion I had. Not only was the tenant responsible for all appliance (including the garbage disposal) and plumbing repairs (using her plumber), and one of their definitions of default was not paying rent for 5 days at which time she could assume immediate possession and move the tenant’s possessions (while this isn’t pursuant with state law, the fact that she had put it in her lease was alarming), but there was a paragraph about “Owner Access” that screamed at me:

“Owner, Owner’s agents and Owner’s prospective lessees, purchasers or mortgagees shall be permitted to inspect and examine the Premises at all reasonable. The exercise of Owner’s reserved rights of access shall never be deemed to be a trespass or a constructive eviction of Tenant. Owner may conduct unannounced inspections of the Premises at any time and from time to time.”

I emailed back that I could not sign this lease. I also left her a voice mail specifying the reasons. She emailed an amended lease (note here that I did not ask her to). Nothing was changed except for a clause about frozen pipes only being the tenant’s responsibility if her plumber deemed that it was due to the heat being turned down in the house. (I didn’t understand it either.) She also volunteered to provide a reference for me (from whom I never heard).

Again, I emailed back that I could not sign, specifying the same reasons. I also said that, since the process had taken so long (which I saw as her delays), I would not be willing to move in as quickly, not wanting to pay a full month’s rent on the apartment now that we were 10 days into this process.

She emailed one final time with “a final amended lease”. It was a 4-page (when printed) rambling email about my failures in the application process.

“While I am willing to make clarifications and have spent a couple of hours doing so thus far, we do not negotiate Lease provisions with our residents.” (who asked ya, you mental case.)

“It would need to be understood up front that everything that ever arises (if anything does) is not open to several days of negotiation, and perhaps that IS understood, and I am merely getting an odd impression from the extensive nature of your inquiries up front.” (I know! How dare I question you!)

“The way it works is that we give you the use of our $150,000 (approx) home in a nice area for a period of time (Lease period, renewable at our mutual decision).  In return, you abide by our Lease provisions. Period! If this isn’t going to work for you, now is the time to tell me that.” (Done. Three days ago.)

“I will go ahead and further clarify and amend the Lease for the final time, and forward it to you.” (Uhhh, what about that “Period!” part?)

And upon opening the attached, supposedly amended lease, her final owner access clause stated:

“Owner, Owner’s agents and Owner’s prospective lessees, purchasers or mortgagees shall be permitted to inspect and examine the Premises at all reasonable times. The exercise of Owner’s reserved rights of access shall never be deemed to be a trespass or a constructive eviction of Tenant. Owner may conduct unannounced inspections of the Premises at any time and from time to time, should owner reasonably determine that unlawful activity or breaches of the Lease are being committed on the property.”

I wrote an insulting email to her, sent it to myself and cut my 10-day loss.

I ignored a voice mail from her previous tenant (the reference) that I received 5 days later. He sounded weirder than she was.

More Misfit Encounters

Second:

A property management company here in town listed a 3-bedroom, 2-bath house in the school district, renting for $1250 a month. We pulled into the driveway to turn around after seeing its pitifully run-down condition and were approached from the neighboring house on the left by what looked like a bum with a brown bag in his hand and, from the house on the right, a retarded man who, arms a’ flailing, barreled towards our car. Had it been two seconds later, his face would have been smooshed against my son’s window. He was laughing and waving as I sped away as fast as I could. The bum just stood there watching us and took another puff on his cigarette.

I, of course, gave up and went back to the apartment where at least all I had to worry about was the noise.

And the third:

I called a phone number from a yard sign. The man explained that he required $1600 a month for his 3-bedroom, 1-bath, 650-square-foot house. Then he asked, “Why in the world do you want to rent a house, anyway?” And for some idiotic reason, I went ahead with my 15-second superficial explanation. He continued, “I have a house up the street for sale for $179,000 that would suit you much better.” (he had known me for over a minute at this point, after all ) He gave me the address. I said I would drive by and call him back. (Duh)

And the fourth:

I contacted a property management company (not the bum/retard one) and asked if they had any properties matching my requirements. She said she didn’t at that time, but asked, “Why don’t you print our application from our website and send it in with the $50 application fee? That way we’ll have it on file, and you’ll be one step ahead of everyone else if we ever do have anything that meets your needs.” (It’s me, isn’t it?)

Another lucky star

How great is this? My 16-year-old son and his “crew” of friends have decided to attend this Sunday afternoon’s piano recital of a boy they know from school. It was announced during church service and the boy was overheard saying that he didn’t think anyone was coming.

This kid is the perfect kid to whom no other kid can ever measure up. 5.2 G.P.A., accomplished pianist, spelling bee finalist, hockey player, newspaper editor, all rolled up in one compact kid. But he also has intense pressure from his parents and very little time for friends to develop socially or enjoy being a kid. So, while the other kids don’t really get a lot of time to spend with him, they’ve decided to wholeheartedly support him.

My son will sit in the audience and watch this boy excel at yet another event. And he’ll clap and whistle and shout his share of “whoo-hoos”. And I’m more proud of this than I would be if he were the one performing.