Blang! Pow! Zing!
By Bryan May
“What were you up to today?”
“Well, I went for a hike with my friend, watched some
baseball, and hung around the house,” I answered. “That
sounds fun. I’ve just been here. Bored to tears.” Bored
to tears. That was her line. I had heard it so much the
last few years, it seemed like it was everywhere. Had I
heard others utter the words, “bored to tears,” or did it
just seem that way because I had heard it so often from my
grandmother? Either way, I had a lot I had to do this
evening, so I couldn’t stay at this table too much longer.
About an hour ago, I was laying on the ground in my room
thinking about the things that I think about, when my
brother threw opened my door and asked, “I’m going to ‘In N’
Out,’ you want anything?” Knowing that he was close to
leaving for Costa Rica for a month, I wanted to spend some
time with him prior to his departure. I awoke from my state
of semi-consciousness. “Hold on, I’ll go with you.” I
straightened up and forced my bare feet into my Adidas. A
few minutes after leaving the house, we drove by my
grandma’s retirement home. “I should go see Bobbie later,”
I remarked. “Yeah, you should.” We arrived at the spot,
did our drive-through routine, and headed home. I didn’t
get anything to eat, as I had already chowed a chicken kebab
laffa. It was great. We were close to home and my brother
was already finishing his second hamburger when we came up
on the retirement facility that resembled a southern
mansion. Not that it would have gone any differently, but
one reason in particular why my brother was so quick to
devour the burgers was that he only had thirty minutes to
get home and get ready for his evening. He was going to the
“Miss Ecuador Los Angeles” pageant, and I was going to hang
with the oldies, walk home, and hit the computer.
“Oldies.” That’s what my grandma always called them. She
never wanted to be pent up, shut down, confused, or alone.
And now she was all of those things. Or so she felt.
“Kid, pull over. I’m going to run in and see Bobbie.
“That’s probably a good idea, you haven’t seen her in
awhile.” “Yeah, have fun tonight, tell Daniela I say, ‘good
luck.’” Daniela is my brother’s novia, and she was
vying for the title of Miss Ecuador L.A. I jumped out of
the car and noticed my mom’s Four Runner.
What did I do today? It was
at least 95 degrees, and may have even been getting close to
touching 100 at times, but I’d still spent a decent portion
of the day outdoors. I walked in the establishment,
strawberry FIERCE Gatorade in hand, and signed in. “Sir,
that’s the resident sign-in. Please sign under the
‘visitor’ page, please.” “Sure thing.” My grandma’s room
is on the second floor, and I darted up the stairs and began
to walk down the hall. An exercise room, huh. That is a
lovely feature, but the only person I have ever seen in
there is me, and that’s when I strolled in for the sole
purpose of saying, “the only person I’ve ever seen in here
is me!” The music up here is pleasant, and the lighting
illuminates just enough without being overbearing, so I like
it here pretty well. In no way does it possess the aura of
finality. Was that laugh my mom’s? I think it may have
been. But it was coming from downstairs, and I didn’t see
her when I walked in, so where could she have been? I heard
some clamoring, and deciding I would check downstairs prior
to walking down to my grandmother’s room. Sure enough, as I
headed back toward the stairs, and began making my way
around the windy staircase, I saw inside the dining room and
noticed the bustle. It was dinnertime. Wait. It was
dinnertime! I’ve been in these situations before, was there
any way I could escape out the back before anyone saw me?
Come on, man, how sorry is that? Ditching your mom and
grandma after you’ve already been dropped off and signed
in? Just walk in there with a smile, and greet every
friendly, touchy, loony in this place. It displeases me
when I am touched, especially by people who haven’t washed
their hands in two decades. Ssh, shush, be quiet, and shut
up. In that order. I am here to see my grandmother, no
getting squeamish over being touched or watching food
tumbling out of mouths. As I stepped into the room, I
realized that a single room harboring so many people had
never been so silent. My mother was the first to see me,
and she exclaimed, “Bry! Oh!” It was delightful to see her
so overjoyed by my presence. “You can have dinner with
Bobbie!” I sure can. Esther had spotted me by this time,
and she was nice, but loved to touch me. “Hi, Bobbie,” and
I gave her a kiss. The help had no problem with me pulling
up a chair, and neither did my grandma’s tablemates. “Sit
next to me, good lookin’! Pull a little closer, will ya?”
Esther was tugging at my chair and petting my arm. “I can’t
stray too far from my grandma, Esther. That wouldn’t be
fair.” “You certainly are a devil, aren’t ya? A handsome
devil!” My mom kissed my grandma, blew me a kiss of
heartfelt exuberance, and waved goodbye. She was off to the
Hollywood Bowl, as was my dad, and my brother was off to
watch some rumps shake at Miss Ecuador LA.
“Do you ladies mind if I
accompany you this evening?” “Ohhhhh, no. They don’t
mind.” Esther flashed me the truest false smile I’d ever
seen. To my left was my grandma, and to her left, Elsa.
Next to Elsa, huddled fairly close but not close enough to
indicate any sort of strong family unity, was Elsa’s
daughter, Martha. On the other side of the square was Fern,
who said nothing but still had it together. Some years ago
she was gorgeous, and she was not ready to let go. She
still wore makeup to dinner, bright red lipstick and cute
glasses with a chain. Elsa was ready, and Esther may have
been ready before I got there, but not Fern. Esther, who
was still trying to inch me closer, did so with an inflamed
arm. Hand enlarged twice the size of her other, and fingers
lunging at me like she was Andre The Giant’s phalange stunt
double. What the hell? It looked painful, but she hadn’t
complained thus far. Everyone had their dinner but my
grandma, maybe the holdup was the fact that she didn’t eat
meat. The cook had been fired for some sort of unsavory
offense, an offense that was exhibit A on the “why Bryan
does not partake in rest home cooking unless absolutely
necessary” meter. As a result, the cooking had been left to
the orderlies, and the result was a slice of ham with a
piece of canned pineapple on top, lima beans strewn about
the plate. “Maybe later.” After a few more minutes had
passed, I inquired, “is there a dinner with no meat,
please?” “Tuna casserole.” “Great.” “Bryan, what did you
do today?” “Well, Bobbie, I went for a hike, watched some
baseball, and did a little work.” “Ahh, sounds exciting.”
“Yeah, it was pretty fun.” With tuna casserole on its way
for Bobbie, Martha had been subjected to silence for too
much of the day. "Wow, Bryan, it's great to meet you! Not
too much going on here today, but we've made do! What is it
that you do?” “Marketing and advertising.” “Oh,
advertising. A bunch of sharks! Ha, ha! But I’m sure
that’s not you.” She was flailing her arms and raising her
voice, laughing near uncontrollably in spots. “I used to
work in advertising, those sharkey sharks!” Remind me, at
exactly what time did I leave the rest home and enter the
asylum? Martha stared intently at her food and began
ranting about the potato chips that she ate earlier in the
evening. She was overweight, but it wasn’t excessive.
Well, not overly excessive. “No desert for me tonight, my
hand found itself in a bag of potato chips and wouldn’t let
up!” She grabbed her right arm with her left hand and
wrestled it away from her mouth. “I kept saying ‘No, No,
No!’ But my stomach kept demanding my hand into the chips,
making me eat them all! No desert for me, but I know Esther
will have some. Two-time. That's what we call Esther
around here, because she always gets two deserts." Esther
gazed at me and started back up with the arm rubbing.
“You’re so sweet, I think I’ll only need one tonight.” I
smiled. “Oh, well, the blueberry pie sure does look good.”
“So do you, heartbreaker. How many girlfriends do you
have?” I was just letting them run, they didn’t have too
many opportunities to do so. Besides, this was one of those
situations where leaving would be far more difficult than
staying. Not that I could leave. Not while
maintaining any semblance of self-worth, anyway. “Do you
ever get scared at work?” This was a voice I hadn’t heard.
It was Elsa. “Scared? Well, maybe nervous or something,
but not scared, really.” Martha felt obligated to give us
her opinion. “Scared? Mother, what kind of question is
that? The scary part is interviewing. And leaving.
Right?” She let out a hearty laugh that shook her bosoms,
and she adjusted her glasses. All of the ham had been
eaten, and finally the tuna casserole was brought. My
grandma took a bite and a half and asked, “So, what were you
up to today?” “Nothing too much. I just watched the Giants
and went for a hike.” Oh, sounds like great fun.” “Just
one pie tonight,” Esther winked. “Yeah, there’s always
tomorrow,” I replied. “But it creeps at such a petty pace.
Do you like Shakespeare?” Bobbie wanted the attention, and
she was tiring of Esther’s arm rubbing and question asking.
“Sure I do.” I had to get my grandma more involved. “Do
you like Shakespeare, Bobbie?” “He’s fair.” “How you doing
over here? That pie was pretty good, right?” “I’m bored to
tears. Let’s go outside.” I stood up and began to scoot my
chair backward when Esther grabbed my hand. “When at first
we practice to deceive,” she mumbled. With widened eyes, I
tried to ignore and go about my search for the walker. “How
does that saying go?” Esther demanded an answer. Luckily,
Martha had one for her. “Oh, what a tangled web we weave,
when at first we practice to deceive." "Right. I like that
one. Goodbye, you handsome devil. Come again." Fern
nodded, "lovely to meet you." I upped Bobbie from her chair
and got her settled behind her walker. "Thank you for
letting me join you, ladies. Have a splendid evening, and I
look forward to my next visit.”
My grandma’s room bored her to
tears, as she has been reduced to watching television with
one blind eye and the other stricken with glaucoma. We
rolled outside, the walker with the wheels and the tennis
balls, and sat side by side on a bench in the breezeway.
“Pretty warm out here.” “Yeah, but it’s in the shade. If
you’re too hot we can go back inside.” “No, no. I’m inside
all day.” “Right. What’s that? Oh, nothing much. I just
went for a hike with my friend, Danny, and watched a little
baseball. Tomorrow we’re going to pick you up, and we’re
all going to have dinner with you at our house. My dad is
barbecuing and making pasta. We’ll all be together,
and it’ll be a lot of fun. How does that sound?” She
looked up and I knew that sounded like a slight improvement
to pineappled-ham, television, and dinner with Martha.
Bryan May
bmay@emarketmakers.com
