Lee saged my house

Last weekend Heather, Ella and Josh came to visit for the weekend. We were all really excited since it was the first time they had visited with baby Ella, and we always have lots of fun together regardless of what we do. As an extra bonus our wonderful friend, John was in town too, and he and his lady friend, Amy came over for supper.

Jason spent Saturday working on one of our (many non-functional) lawnmowers over at Lee's house. Lee is a wizard when it comes to small engine repair and always helps us fix stuff; as far as I can tell these times are Lee at his finest.

Heather, Josh, Ella and I were going to go to the store to get preparations for shrimp and grits while Fox was napping, so I walked across the street to ask Jason to come work in our front yard so he would hear if Fox awoke. Lee was watching Jason tighten something while he held his hand which was wrapped in dirty flannel.

"What happened t0 your hand?" I asked

"Aw nuthin! I wuz just helpin Jason get his mower fixed an I cut my hand on 'at bolt" Lee said in a sing-songy tone.

I looked back at Jason and explained our excursion to him, and immediately after the words escaped my mouth Lee assertively asked,"So whater you a-havin fur supper"

I told him shrimp and grits with turnup greens, crowder peas and sweet potato fries.

"An you ain't even gonna invite me when I'm over here a-bleedin fixin YOURE machine?!",
Lee assumed.

Quickly I asked Lee to please join us for supper, and that we would be eating sometime after seven. He accepted my too-late invite with disdain, as if he would be doing me a favor by showing up, and asked if I could pick up a few things while I was out. He ran into his house and came out five minutes later with a grocery list, his government "food stamp" card, and his pin number. Lee gave me explicit directions how to use the EBT/debit card reader, even after I insisted that I understood the functionality of the contraption, and then sent us on our way.

Josh and I prepared our supper and Lee stuck his head in when we were almost finished. I told him that it would be another 45 minutes till it was ready, and he said, "I've done ate, but thanks Jill. I appreciate it n you're a good neighbor. I'll prolly jus come back over here when Dan and John get here"

Great.

John, Amy and our friend Frank showed up, and my friend Adrienne from up the street came down. We all talked and caught up with each other. Adrienne went back home to her kids so her husband, Dan could come down, and very soon afterwards Lee appeared. He came in the door with photographs of Dan, John, and I he had taken a few months earlier.

"See them orbs all over you John?!" Lee yelled. "You got them thangs all over your house Jill. See, they ride in on other people even if your house is clean an blessed" Lee remarked with a suspicious look at our previously jovial company.

I told him that everything was fine in my house, and there had been no spiritual disturbances of any kind. Lee produced three sticks of incense and a bundle of sage and insisted that we burn all of it to "smudge" our house. He continued talking about the mysterious orbs on the photographs for the rest of the evening.

I have seen tons of these "mysterious orb photos" that Lee has taken and without a shadow of a doubt they are dust particles. Some of the photos are of people with a big spot on their face or shoulder, some are of empty areas in a bar or someone's house with a spattering of nebulous dots, all are taken with a flash. The first time Lee showed me his collection of pictures I told him that I had had that problem when using a flash, and he said

"That ain't dust!! That place was so clean! There weren't a spot anywhere!",

and then it became a personal attack on the subject's cleanliness. So I dropped it and started accepting whatever he said about these photos, but this was the first time that my complacency had led to a "smudging" of my home.

As the fragrant smoke billowed from one room to the next all of my guests looked around at each other, attempting to communicate non-verbally by making eye contact. One by one I discreetly extinguished the incense, cracked the door to the back porch and turned on the overhead fans. I could hear Lee in the other room demanding to know what Dan thought about his photos. People started dodging Lee and his strange, one sided conversations, and he made his way into the kitchen where I was cleaning up. He started talking at me without any concern of my indifference, and suddenly I realized he was swearing loudly, and the children were in the other room.

"I told that stupid fuck what he could do! I said 'Alright goddammit! Get your shit and go back to your old lady an tell her not to bother me or my family no more! We're sick uh you're shit!"

At that moment Jason burst into the kitchen shushing Lee and telling him that he didn't care if he swore but not to do it when the kids are awake and in the next room. Lee looked at Jason incrediously and slinked out of the room, shrugging.

An hour later I went outside and found Lee smoking on the porch.

Laughing, he asked "Did you hear Jason tell me off in thar? He said I was a-cussin in front uh those babies or somethin. I NEVER cuss in front uh kids, man. I know how it is. He musta thought I was Pope. You know, that big bald dude Jason plays music with? He's always cussing around the kids"

Not knowing what to say, I just stood there and nodded. Why would Lee pick Pope? Brad Pope is great with kids, and super respectful of Fox. It was so freaky for Lee to pretend like he hadn't screamed obscenities in my kitchen while I was standing beside him, just an hour earlier, then try to blame it on a guy who wasn't even there. Then the conversation shifted back to the orbs and Lee proclaimed;

"Whatever they are they're faster than anything we got! I mean military, yaknow; like 747s or F-16s or bombers or WHAT EVER man! Them orbs gottem beat. I know yall're good people an all but I'm jus WARNIN yuh that thares more than this world that'cha see in life. There's the spirit world an yuh don't wanna piss'em off none!"

I told him that I didn't want to aggravate the orbs either, but I wasn't worried about them. He interrupted me by saying "So what do you really think about them Jill; tell me thu truth!"

After a moment's consideration I said that I thought they were interesting. Lee exploded and said that I might as well have slapped him in the face, and that he thought that I thought he was crazy. For some reason Lee was putting people on the spot all that night, demanding that they tell him he's crazy. Of course no one took the bait, as tempting as it was. It felt like Lee was fishing for a fight, which became evident towards the end of the evening.

Everyone started leaving and going to bed, and John and Amy were the last two people left other than Josh and Heather who were staying at our house. Jason and I were hoping that Lee would leave so that we could talk to John and Amy a little bit before they left, but he just wouldn't budge.

Finally Amy and I decided to try and lead him outside, then return inside without letting him back in. Evidently, despite being really drunk and high, Lee was onto our plan because he acquired a sloppily hostile attitude before leaving.

Amy and I were standing beside the door forming a chute directing Lee out the door, when he stopped in front of us and said "thanks a lot Jill" charged with sarcasm.

"You ain't gotta do anything! All you do is sit around here sewing in your room back'ere. All you gotta do is watch 'at kid. Yeah you got it made" Lee expressed.

Amy's eyes got huge and angry, and after taking a shocked, sidelong glance towards me she asserted "Being a mother is the hardest job in the world!"

Lee sort of rolled his eyes and continued his strutting progression to the front door.

Amy was horrified with Lee, but I felt like it was comparable to watching a really slow wreck. I can't take offense when I know he's just running off at the mouth. For god's sake; this is a man on disability who drinks moonshine and smokes dope on a daily basis, further disabling himself. It would be a wasted argument.

Despite the Lee-static, it was a great night. My only regret is that I didn't insist Lee leave a little early so I could have talked to my favorite friends about something without him screaming about orbs in the next room.

final countdown

Where to begin, where to begin?

When Lee moved into the house across the street he prefaced the pleasantries of introductions with a numerical countdown of days till he became a millionaire.

"Three hundred eighty-six more days uh this an I'll be outta here!"

I didn't know what he meant, but assumed it related to his condition of being home all the time without a car, subsiding on government food vouchers, and talking about magical orbs and spirits.
As time elapsed Lee's countdown decreased, and he explained that he would be entitled to his millions when George W Bush was no longer president. When the figure dropped below three digits I realized that it was, in fact a countdown till inauguration day; Jan 20th 2009.

After returning to Knoxville from my extended Christmas vacation I was shocked and alarmed to realize how low the countdown had dwindled. Jason and I had always chalked it up to fantasy; assuming that something would happen before the day arrived, but here we were, just days till inauguration. I decided that I would be gone that day, but the days leading up to the 20th were so uneventful I forgot to take precautions.

When the day arrived Fox and I watched the ceremonial preparations unfold on television, and occasionally glanced across the street to check Lee's status.

The only thing I noticed was an array of unfamiliar vehicles arriving and departing from the house. Lee didn't leave his house for quite a few days surrounding the 20th, which wasn't uncommon. He normally sleeps till noon, so it's possible that he leaves his house after I go to bed.

The next weekend Jason had some friends over to play music. I guess Lee suspected a party was going on so he came over with his standard mason jar of moonshine and a miniscule joint. He seemed pretty lit when he arrived, and after watching the guys play three or four songs he began asking me to google stuff for him. First he asked me to look up something regarding orb manifestations in photographs, then a ranch on the Comanche reservation in Texas, and finally the 2009 Ford dually F-350 crew cab truck. He kept making commands like, "type one in that has black interior", and "how much more is it to get REAL big speakers? I mean NICE."

I was going to explain that it wasn't possible to refine such a search, but after a couple of attempts I decided it was easier to just make up figures based on my own estimates. As soon as we had found a suitable image he said "Jill go get Dan an tell him to come over here an look at dis truck. He don't believe me when I tell him I'm gettin one. I'm makin a call tuh Lance Cuttingham an I'm gettin one uh them Monday morning. Jus wait. Tell 'em to git over here an look!"

Lee said this in a way that concluded that after seeing a picture of a truck on the internet, Dan would believe him.

Dan and the rest of the guys were in the middle of a song, so I told Lee that I would show it to him after they finished.

"He's jus right there! Jus tell em tuh look!" Lee griped in a too loud for inside voice, pointing.

I told Lee that it would be ridiculous to interrupt a band to show a guy (who couldn't care less) a picture of a truck on the internet. "I'm sure Dan knows what a new Ford F-350 looks like", I said.

"Yeah, but not like mine. Mine's gonna be top uh thu line!" Lee said dreamily.

I didn't even touch that one. I just walked away from the computer and ended the session.


Needless to say Monday came and went with no new truck. The countdown seemed to come and go, too, till the other night when Lee asked me to look up some other nonsense on the computer.

He started rambling on about someone trying to cheat him out of his money. I asked what he was going to do about it, and he said "I don't know yet. I'm gonna have to watch NCIS tomorrow night to see if I have to go out to the desert or not"

I asked him if he was referring to a television show, and he said "Yeah. See they talk to me an tell me stuff in code. Military stuff."

meat market

Last week while weeding my flower beds my neighbor, Lee approached me with a cup of coffee and a hand rolled cigarette.
Without hesitation he made a proposition;
"how about you drive me downtown to the butcher so I can get one uh them freezer economy packs with my guv-mint card?"
Not knowing what the hell he was referring to, I asked him when he wanted to go, and that I could take him as long as he didn't mind going by Big Lots, too. He said as long as he got there before three it would be fine, so I told him that we could leave as soon as I got fox ready.
We drove straight to the butcher shop in downtown Knoxville, and Lee insisted that I come in and bring Fox. He loves going places with Fox and I. He always acts like he is helping us out in some way, as if I am a poor, single mother without a job or a family... Considering the situation I figure there's no harm in letting Lee pretend some, and it is always interesting to read peoples expressions when we walk into an establishment.
We waited for the butcher to assemble the order, then as Lee was preparing to pay, he asked the clerk to to "sell me a quarter uh 'at souse"
I casually glanced down to the giant souse log in the glass covered cooler, and before the man could lift it onto the slicer I spied the main ingredient. Pig snouts.
The man behind the counter asked him how thick he wanted it cut, and Lee gestured holding a pack of saltines which conveyed everything the man needed to know. He then asked if he wanted it in a "sack", but Lee declined as he planned to eat it in the car.
I gathered Fox back into his car seat and started to pull out of the place, when Lee immediately started directing me to "stay right here in the shoulder!! It ain't really a sidewalk, it's like a drivin' shoulder"
Since I had eyes and could see that it was, in fact a sidewalk; complete with an eight inch elevation above the road, drainage grates and crosswalks, I declined to drive on it and just waited my turn to pull onto the busy city street. Lee tsked in disapproval.
Sitting in the passengers seat, Lee prepared his snack, and holding out a piece of sliced souse, ordered me to take some. He said "here! eat dis!"
As he was holding that thick slice of particle meat so close to my face, I was able to see the sun shining through it's mosiac-like constitution, like a greasy stained glass window for a tiny meat house.
I tactfully declined since I had eaten just before leaving the house.
Lee skeptically asked if I had ever eaten souse before, and I told him that I had plenty of times as I crossed my fingers.
We headed to the produce stand where we purchased a 50lb bag of potatoes and a 25lb bag of onions which I bought since the business no longer accepts "food stamps cards", and Lee insisted that we would split it all up.
So now I have enough onions, potatoes, and various meat cuts to last months. If there is any souse in there I will give it to Jason and tell him it's pate.
My friend Brad is going to pen a comic about Lee.

Potty Training insanity

My two and a half year old son has been potty training for months. I began the process without a dogmatic approach in mind. I decided to approach the process rationally by talking him through it! That made perfect sense to me since Fox (son) listens and comprehends what I say, and although I don't remember myself, I imagine a diaper feels god-awful. After the first suggestion of using a toilet instead his pants Fox would certainly be converted, right? Wrong. Dead wrong. I have make that suggestion every six minutes of waking hours since the beginning of January and Fox continues to whine about the potty.
Last Christmas Fox was dazzled by the gift of a plastic potty chair and it instantly became his favorite toy. It functioned as a Hot Wheels car holder, a water toy and a step stool. He was still too young to comprehend complexities such as urination and zipper-fly pants, so we held off on our encouragements till his second birthday. At this point in time Fox was obsessed with the bathroom and insisted on taking his dirty diapers to the diaper bin himself. The toilet was like a mysterious gateway to another land which made things disappear with it's magical waterfall. Hours would elapse as Fox transfered water from the bath tub into the toilet with the care and determination of a nuclear chemist. We talked about the toilet extensively, and I'm pretty confident that Fox could explain our modern metro sewer system better than most adults.
This seemed like the perfect time to reintroduce the potty chair as a functioning fixture of daily life.
I removed his diaper and set him on the plastic seat, explaining that he should try to pee-pee and poop in the potty instead of his diaper, and the pay-off was that he could carry the urine and crap into the bathroom and dump it into the big toilet. As soon as I had said it I realized how ridiculous it sounded; "Pee and poop in this bowl so we can go dump it into another bowl??" Great!
Fox looked at me like I was crazy, then focused on trying to go. He managed to leave a tablespoon or so of pee in the bowl which he promptly took to the bathroom to dump.
The allure wore off too soon, and Fox became complacent about the diaper situation. I needed a better bribe!
My sister in law came to visit us and brought a bag of candies to distribute. Instead of sharing with Fox we decided to put the bag of Gummi Bears into a mason jar and leave them on the mantle where he could see them. I told Fox that he could have one every time he used the potty, and that they were so delicious that a cartoon was created in their celebration. Before having a child I would have thought that bribery with candy was a horrible notion, both nutritionally and psychologically unhealthy. Now however, I realize that the entire parenting process can potentially be hazardous to your health and it is all about balance. Sometimes children remember the entire alphabet and count to ten, and sometimes they break a dozen eggs inside the fridge so they run down underneath the crisper drawers. Sometimes I reward my child with a trip to the bird sanctuary and a bag of stale bread to toss, and sometimes I give him sugary treats.
Seeing those Gummi Bears on the mantle is a constant reminder to Fox. The first day he mostly screamed and pointed at it, crying, but after using the potty chair and being rewarded with their tart, gummi-goodness, the jar became a thrilling part of his day.
After becoming more involved with the potty chair I realized that there was a battery compartment we hadn't noticed before. I found some batteries and now there are flashing lights and silly jingles to accompany this whole process. I know the entire dammed toilet paper song by heart.