February 19, 2010
LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): Your social skills allow you to navigate even the most treacherous shoals of the social scene, and today you have to do just that. Your diplomatic ways should help you get what you want.
The phone rang at 3 a.m. Lucy and Carl(a) were in jail. Mom needed me to pick her up and take to her there to bail them out. Don’t know why Lucy called Mom in the first place. Did she want to inflict more pain?
Seems that Lucy and Carl(a) got into a yelling match with some wayward Olympic revelers who decided to crash the tent protest village on Hastings after things died down on Granville. Lucy asserted that the hockey hoodlums stomped all over her tent so she chucked their hockey sticks in a fire barrel. A brawl ensued. Police hauled off two police vans, clearly wanting to send a message that disturbing the peace was limited to a few key streets downtown.
Took two hours to get them out. The jail was hopping with drunken blowhards and their enablers/rescuers. Mom got into it with Lucy and Carl(a) before we even got to the car. I couldn’t get them piled into my car fast enough. It’s a wonder the police didn’t just lock them up again, with Mom joining them to continue the argument in a vomit scented cell. I reached into my glove compartment and popped in my never-played Susan Boyle CD, my “Christmas bonus” from cheapo Ernesto. The deal was that each time anyone offered any opinion about the Olympics, protests or jail time, I’d crank the volume up an extra notch. Only took two tests to generate a fragile cease fire. Seems Ms. Boyle might be the key to world peace.
I dropped Lucy and Carl(a) off at their apartment even though they demanded I take them back to Tent Central. There is a limit to my enabling. Mom tried to get me to come into the house for coffee and more venting about Lucy’s misdirected actions. I was plenty awake, all things considered, and declined the invitation. My time with family had already reached the Boyle-ing point.
KEN’S JOURNAL (via BlackBerry):
HAD TO MAKE A DASH TO THE POLICE STATION @ 3 IN THE MORNING. SARA CALLED, A TOTAL MESS, TO SAY TRAVIS HAD BEEN TAKEN IN AFTER SMASHING CAR WINDOWS IN YALETOWN. SHE DIDN’T WANT THE OTHER KIDS SEEING BIG BROTHER BAILED OUT SO I CAME TO THE RESCUE. GOT HIM OUT FAIRLY QUICKLY, CONSIDERING THE PLACE WAS HOPPING W/OVERZEALOUS OLYMPIC PARTIERS. I GUESS MINORS GET PRIORITY.
BACK @ SARA’S WE SAT DOWN W/TRAVIS FOR A SERIOUS TALK. TRAVIS LASHED OUT @ ME W/PREDICTABLE “YOU’RE NOT MY FATHER” CRAP. GAWD, WHAT HAPPENED TO THE KID WHO IDOLIZED UNCLE KEN? HE WAS BIG ON SAYING IT “WASN’T FAIR” B/C HE WAS PART OF A GROUP & HE WAS THE ONLY ONE CAUGHT. TOTALLY LACKED REMORSE FOR CLIMBING OUT THE WINDOW AFTER MIDNIGHT & FOR THE PROPERTY DAMAGE. SARA FINALLY CALLED JERRY & INSISTED HE FLY BACK FROM CHICAGO. TOOK THIRTY MINUTES OF ARGUING & MY GRABBING THE PHONE TO GET HIM TO AGREE. NO WONDER TRAVIS IS MESSED UP. EXCUSES DON’T NEGATE THE FACT HE’S GOT A HELLUVA LOT OF WORK TO DO TO PAY FOR THE DAMAGES, BUT MAYBE IT HAD TO COME TO THIS TO BRING ABOUT SOME CHANGE IN THE FAMILY. SARA CAN’T HANDLE IT ALL ALONE.
I MISS THE TIMES WHEN, AS THE COOL UNCLE, I COULD SHOW UP FOR THE FUN STUFF & STEER CLEAR OF THE SHIT.