Sunday, January 30, 2011

Story of the Day 1/30/2011

At breakfast, Sarah was seated with her back to the sliding doors, and I was seated across from her, facing out. I was enjoying watching two of “our” squirrels chasing one another and tumbling around.

I signed to Sarah, “ Look at the squirrels playing!”

Sarah turned around just in time to watch the two engaging in sexual intercourse.

On the green chair on the patio.

She said, “Ummmmmmmm…..”

And I flushed with embarrassment for telling her to look at exactly the wrong moment.

Then I said, “You won’t be sitting in that chair for a while, right?”

To which she agreed.

Story of the Day 1/26/2011

So Ely finally got rid of Aaron.
Whoops…I mean Aaron finally got on his bus to leave Binghamton.
And travels , and traveled and traveled.
The bus from Binghamton doesn’t’ really go all the way to Indianapolis. Aaron had to get off the bus and get onto another bus a few times. He also had to disembark a few times just at scheduled stops because they sometimes clear the bus for routine something or another that no one is allowed to discuss. Since this predates 9/11, it has nothing to do with security, and since they don’t move the bus to refill the tank it isn’t for refueling. And as far as we know, the bus driver’s girl/boy friend isn’t’ there, so your guess is indubitably better than mine.

And Ely related to me how good it felt to be free ( in no less than 3 different conversations.) But free when you are Jewish is a relative term. Pun intended.

At 8:46 A.M>, today, Wednesday, Ely texted me:
“Is Aaron on the right bus?”

He was. But only because of dumb luck.
After I picked him up at the downtown station, and we were driving away he tells me, “those bus people are really rude!”
“The people who work in the station or the bus drivers?” I asked.
“Both! I mean, one lady yelled at me and said, ‘I called for boarding that bus 20 minutes ago!”
It took me about 30 seconds before I could ask that all important question of my son who wears this kinda oddball knit hat all the time he is traveling.
“Well, did you let anyone know that you are deaf and use hearing aids?”
“No.”

I have no idea why I even bothered to utter, “Well, Aaron, how are they supposed to know you can’t hear the announcements.”

I think our miracle of the day is that he was on the right bus.
I had better come up with a fucking good mantra, because I will have to be saying it a lot longer than Ely did.

Story of the Day 1/25/2011

I still have three children.
This was somewhat in doubt , earlier today.
Ely had gotten her brother fed, dressed, packed up and out the door. This was at about 3:50 A.M.
The greyhound station is less than a 6 minute walk from her apartment and she thought he could successfully manage to get there on his own and get on his bus to come home.
Ely later told me that she felt “free’. She had just about gotten to the point where she was going to strangle him the next time he said a word.
She said, “I am not ready to be a parent. Don’t’ think I will ever be ready.” And then she thanked me for not strangling her when she was growing up.
Of course, I said to her, now she understands the occasional screaming and the slightly more than occasional 4 –letter words that I would utter.


Meanwhile, Aaron had successfully made it to the bus depot and stood an waited in the cold for 15 minutes, and then 20 minutes and then 25 minutes. The bus was running late.
Finally, it arrived, and the bus driver refused to allow him on.
This is because he had neglected to print pout the ticket he had bought on-line.
Normally, this would not be a problem, but the station in Binghamton isn’t a 24 hour one, like in Indianapolis. They would be closed until 8 A.M.
So Aaron trudged back to Ely’s.

Ely took one look at him and started repeating the mantra,” Only 547 more minutes till I get rid of him, only 546 more minutes until….”
Okay, she didn’t’ , really, because first she had to find out when the next bus was.
So Ely went on-line to find out when the next bus would be, and then she started repeating that mantra.
Later today, she took him back to the station, helped him exchange his “ticket” , and got him with his printed ticket onto the bus.

How do I know all of this?
Because G-d made texting.
I was the recipient of a long string of texts that I suspect were her way of letting off some tension so she did not strangle him.
The last text she sent me , before he left Binghamton was sent at exactly 1:14 PM. It said:
“At the bus station, ticket printed and in hand, full of diner food, departing at 2 twenty . Snacks and book in possession. High hopes. Foxtrot.”

And I can just visualize her doing a very animated and happy foxtrot back to her apartment after his bus has driven away.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Story of the Day 11/08/06

This is not the first Story of the Day that I wrote, but it is the first one that I saved. Back in the dark ages of man ( 2005-2008) I used to just send the stories out as emails to friends. This was good because I would get wonderful stories back from them (for some reason, the blog doesn't encourage or inspire that that), but it was also bad because the stories would end up in odd places and cause my children embarrassment. Anyhow, this is the first one that I saved :


Some days are more entertaining than others....
My beloved 15 yr old son, Aaron, called the Marion County Public Library , today.
I was near him and heard some of the conversation.
He let the person on the other end of the telephone know that he is a "frequent user' (his phrase) of the BJE library, and picks up his reserved materials there, account- it shows up on line, but not on the BJE's Library-linked computer. He let the woman on the phone know that he had tried to pay the fine at the BJE- but they couldn't do it. So, he had finally given Mrs. Rosenfeld the $6 and she would be sending it to the Public Library with the "shit-load."
I had a moment of surprise- I looked over at Aaron who was hanging on the phone- he then told her that he hoped this money would be credited to his account when it was sent with "the ship-load." The difference in pronunciation, which I don't hear well enough to discern just by hearing, was apparent when I saw his face when he said it.....I tried very hard not to start laughing.
The conversation went on for another few minutes, and he again referred to the "ship-load".
After Aaron got off the phone I explained to him that there are two terms: "shit-load" and "Ship-ment" and that one was polite and the other wasn't. Of course, being deaf , he couldn't have known that the word he had learned was "shit-load" when his brain had filled in the missing sounds to what was logical to him. (He had apparently not figured that the person using the term was swearing.) (My brain does the same thing, so I understood what had happened.)
Anyhow he then said to me" Oh, that would explain the long silence from the Library lady."
Smile.
I hope your day is filled with humor.

Story of the Day 5/22/07

I am awaiting approval from Ely to upload a story. In the meanwhile, one of my cousins got a new car. According to her daughter, it is a huge improvement over the "stinky van".
At any rate, I sent her this old story from way back when ( 2007) , and am actually going to post another oldie, in a moment. :


This story was related to me by Ms. Esther (my eldest) over coffee with Louise. Not the Louise in the story.
Esther kindly decided to take her brother out driving on real-live roads (unlike the empty parking lots we let him practice on before he got his learner’s permit.)
Backing out of the driveway proved to be slightly harrowing with Ms. Esther shouting “Brake, Brake!” So that Aaron didn’t plow into our across the street neighbor, Louise, who was on her lawn.
Aaron, whose parking lot practicing really had been going smoothly, in case you were thinking otherwise, managed to back himself into the ditch.
Fortunately, Esther was able to get him out of the ditch…
Aaron, meanwhile, was yelling at the car.
Esther said, “ Stop yelling! The car has feelings!”
Aaron, being Aaron, started apologizing to the car. “Sorry car!”
But Esther, who is my only child with “normal “ hearing, thought hat he had said,”Sorry, Carlo!”
So Esther responded, “Yeah, stop yelling at Carlo!”
Without any hesitation, Aaron comes back with, “ Oh? It’s Carlo now? Got a transmission change?”

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Story of the Day 1/20/2011

At 1:22 PM I received a text message from Lynne that Aaron and Ely arrived safely in Binghamton.
I know I wrote that they were headed to Rochester.
That is true, but they have gone to Binghamton, first, on purpose. Not as part of getting lost.
Binghamton is where Ely lives.
In a closet.
A walk in closet.

This is the “free room “ that a friend offered to Ely and which prompted her to stay in Binghamton and not move home until the farm job starts in April.
Hey, free is free and the friend has even located a bed for her that will fit in the closet. Not just a mattress but a bed. There were two choices- a racecar and a pink princess thing.
Not sure, but I would bet that Ely voted for the racecar.

Of course, we are talking about a toddler bed.

Ely was having this conversation at the dining room table while we were eating or after we had finished eating or maybe while we were staring with a bit of sadness at the now empty chocolate boxes after we had decimated the contents.
Since she is my only child who is not close to or past the 6 foot mark, and if she sleeps in a semi-fetal position, this just might work out.


So, I texted Lynne back and asked “ They are both going to stay in the closet?”
This is really weird, because my kids are NOT the kinds of kids that stay in closets of any sort.

I was relieved when Lynne texted me back that they are staying with a different friend. Or, at least, Aaron is.
Maybe Ely will be sleeping in the closet, but at least they won’t both have to fit into that bed.

Story of the Day 1/19/2011

Today was the day that Ely and Aaron drove from Philadelphia to Washington, DC so that Aaron could tour Gallaudet University and possibly move out of our basement.
They left early, really early, and they went to the museum, only they didn’t.
Aaron did.
Ely couldn’t find parking so she dropped off Aaron and then went and sun bathed on the mall. Well, sunbathed while wearing clothing. Otherwise, I would be writing this while awaiting a flight to go there and bail her out.

The next time I heard from them they were late. Very late, driving around Washington, DC, which can be lovely, unless you are stressed because you are late.
And I am being yelled at because it is my fault they are late because I did not buy each of them their own personal GPS.
That is what Ely told me. It was entirely my fault.

Of course, they couldn’t be bothered to print out directions. Or to write down the name of the building they were going to, before they left Philadelphia.
Or to take a phone number.
Or the name of the person they had gone to meet.

Sarah said, “What were they thinking?”
They weren’t.

And with what they took with them, a GPS wouldn’t have helped.
On the other hand, a nice crystal ball…..


Later, I get a call from Ely, they can see the campus, and just before the campus is a wonderful Michael Jackson Xmas house, and she wants to go back after Gally and snap some pictures.
Since I absolutely cannot visualize what a Michael Jackson Xmas house looks like, I think this is a good idea.

Even later, I find out that there will be no Michael Jackson Xmas house photos from this trip. They managed to get lost leaving Gallaudet, also.




Addendum,
They are driving to Rochester.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Story of the Day 1/18/2011

Aaron embarrassed Ely, today.

Ely had an appointment at a clinic and Aaron went along for the ride.
The doctor happens to be gay.
While he was seeing Ely, he told Aaron, “Don’t’ I know you from somewhere?”
Since Aaron has never met this guy in his life,
Ely had a moment of certainty that Aaron had gone and starred in a gay porn video that we didn’t know about.

Seriously.

I don’t know why she would think that. I mean, if he had, he would certainly have proudly told us about it and brought home a copy to share.




Addendum:

When I emailed him for approval/corrections to this story, Aaron emailed this back:
"I'm actually only a porn star in heterosexual porn, duh."

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Story of the Day 1/ 16/ 2011

Ely is trying to choose a middle name.
She changed her last name, years ago.
Got a little tired of it not fitting on forms.

The first name has been morphing for months. From Esther to Esker to Aster( my favorite), to Astro, to…I am forgetting one, to Elon, to Ely.
Okay, I am not sure that Astro was serious, but it was on her Facebook profile for a while.

One relative asked me, “Is it Ely? Is she sure? I want to know before I get used to calling her that.”

Actually, it might be.

Why do I think this? Because now it seems it is time to change the middle name.

Of course, later in the day she texted me that maybe “Buckeye” would be a better choice….Yesterday and today, the front-runner was “Ohio”.
Of course, it is only a front runner with her.

I did mention that she might feel it is a bit odd after a few years.
Okay, it is odd, now, but that she might get tired of it being odd. Like really odd.

Ely replied that, in the event someone mentions it being rather odd , she will say, “I don’t know what my parents were thinking when they named me that!”

Story of the Day 1/10/2011

My brother in California has a daughter
Actually, he has two of them, but this story is about the older one- Deborah.
Deborah is getting close to Bat Mitzvah age, and he and his wife are discussing what to do and where to have the Bat Mitzvah.
They live in California. I already said that , but I need to repeat it because living in California means that having the Bat Mitzvah in a synagogue will cost what using a California synagogue costs – for the ceremony, for the meal, for the party.
Unless that have it somewhere else.
They could have it in eth synagogue, and then have the party somewhere else. But they would still be paying California process.
And they have just moved, so they are also not sure about the synagogues in their new neighborhood……and the time is approaching when they will need to decide.
And then I saw the article in the newspaper.
About how a popular new venue for weddings is popular because it is lovely and serene and inexpensive.
People have used the Children’s Museum and the Zoo and even the Art Center, but they are all quite a bit more expensive than this, and it really is a much more formal setting.
So I called up my brother and told him about it.
Wait, no I didn’t’, he called me up and I brought it to him.
Sorry for that goof.
There were a couple of problems with eth idea, though.
I mean, it will look a bit odd on the invitations.
And it might feel a bit odd sitting down to eat knowing there are probably some dead bodies being prepped for burial on the lower level.
But apparently, funeral homes are the new venue of choice for people on a budget.
I suppose he couldn’t’ invite anyone whose last name is Cohen*,Cowen, or Kohn , since they couldn’t’ attend, but it would also help to keep down the size of the guest list.

* Jews who are cohanim are not allowed to be under the same roof as a dead body.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Story of the Day 1/11/2011

(note for the uninitiated: deaf spelled with a small d means you can't hear. Deaf spelled with a capitol D means culturally deaf- as in, but not limited to, uses sign language.)



Aaron is trying to escape from the basement. I mean he is looking at colleges for next fall.
Just not very seriously.

He says things like, “Well, I know you want me to go back to college.” Or “ I don’t’ see why having a college degree is so important.” Or even “ I am perfectly fine just staying at home. “
Coming from a 20 year old, that is kind of scary.

But he has put in one college application, and will soon be going to look at a second college- Gallaudet, in Washington, DC.
Gallaudet is the only 4 year liberal arts college for the Deaf.
Aaron is deaf. Only , he is deaf with a small d and numerous of us( us being family and friends) are a bit worried that he may have a hard time fitting in. I mean, this is the kid we have to yell at every evening at the dinner table to sign for his Deaf ( with a capitol d) sister.

This is also the kid that the principal of the Deaf School told us “ didn’t fit in” and suggested that perhaps we should find another school for him. This was after repeated attempts were made t get him to sign to his teacher. The attempts failed because Aaron realized there was a hard of hearing girl in his class and he would talk to her in Spoken English, and she would interpret what he said into ASL for the teacher.
This is the same kid that started in at the Deaf School a few years earlier only knowing ASL, and no spoken English. And the same kid the Deaf School refused to provide speech therapy for because he was too deaf to benefit from it. That kid who is deaf with a small d.

At any rate, he has set up a tour and will be going out to look at Gally in another week and a half.
I mentioned to him that he might like to ask them to provide an interpreter.

“Why, they all sign,” he replied.
“Exactly.”

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Story of the Day 1/7/2010

In Sarah’s English class, they are reading Macbeth.
Sarah has decided that she doesn’t like Shakespeare and that he is a waste of time.

So, today they were working in small groups. There were 4 students in her group. Sarah was aware that the teacher would soon be calling on them to read aloud. She has been in this class long enough to know how the teacher does things, and she realized that soon the teacher would be calling on students to read aloud from each of the groups. She asked the group of anyone wanted to read out loud.
“Oh, yes!” chirped one girl.
Sarah says this girl likes to talk so she figured that she would also like to read aloud.
The boy sitting next to Sarah said, “Not me, because I don’t speak very well in public.”
Sarah said to him, “Neither do I.’
It took him a minute to get it.


When Sarah came home, she asked me several questions about Shakespeare.
She understood that people spoke that way back then, but she wanted to know if all people from that province spoke that way.
I told her that many people were uneducated, so they would have smaller vocabularies and make more mistakes, but, yes, the phrases he used and the manner of speaking were normal back then.
Sarah was stunned.
“That’s ridiculous because then it would be easier to understand poor people’s speech more than educated people’s speech!”
I explained how language has changed and continues to change and that if someone from that time who spoke English was here today he would have a hard time understanding her when she spoke English.
I thought a moment, and then I added, “Of course, so does everyone else.”

Story of the Day 1/ 6/2010

This is yesterday’s story, but my son summed it so beautifully, in the car, this morning:
“Separate, but equal.”

You see, Aaron is deaf, but not dumb.

Sarah’s school has decided that it is best to be very conservative. They have decided that some of these modern changes just don’t’ fit in with what they are trying to accomplish. Like Brown vs. the Board of Education. Just too difficult to deal with.
So, they have decided to revive the Separate but Equal statute and apply it to Sarah.
She isn’t’ black, but she is deaf, and that is “bad” enough..

The teacher- the Geography teacher- will be showing a film for class. He has shown it every year for the past 6 years. It is wonderful. It perfectly fits in with what the students are learning. The history channel produced it. And it is not captioned.
So, he asked the interpreter what to do and the interpreter suggested that Sarah will leave the classroom and go to the resource room every day for a week. Because the film requires a week of classes to be shown in it’s entirety.
And she will sit in the other room without a geography teacher, and with a different film. He is looking for something on a similar topic, something that has captions. And she can take some notes. The students are supposed to do an assignment and write an essay about the film. Of course, her film won’t cover the same information, so he will change the topic of the essay for her.
After the week is over, they will allow her to return to the classroom.
He was pleased and told the interpreter that this was a good idea..
This film is very good and he doesn’t’ want the other students to not receive the benefit of viewing it as part of the curriculum. Certainly, some sort of film on a similar topic can be found that will be good enough for the deaf kid to view in that other room, somewhere else, with some teacher who is not a geography teacher. And, of course, she can take her own notes for her essay, while she is watching the film. That will be fine. This same teacher as given her a grade of zero on the occasion the students were required to take notes during another film. That is because she can’t write while she is reading the captions, or she misses the content of the film. And, to heck with where it says that note taking will be provided in her IEP. She will do just fine. Right?
And the important thing is that those other students will not need to miss this film, which is a very important part of the curriculum. And at the same time, they won’t have to be worried about making this accessible for that deaf kid which certainly isn’t a priority since she isn’t quite a person in the same sense that the other students are.

You know, they could probably let her stay in that other classroom for the rest of the year. Then they won’t have to be bothered by having her in the room, at all.

I am being mean. They are not quite as conservative as I have implied.
If she were black and not deaf, they would probably allow her to stay in the room.

Story of the Day 1/3/ 2010

My son has been selling his body. Twice a week, when he was at college, in Muncie.
He had mentioned this, but I didn’t’ realize that he was really doing it.

He tried to do the same here in Indy, after he came home on winter break.
It pays more. A lot more.

But when he got there, they told him they were too busy, and to come back tomorrow. At 5 AM. They open at 7 AM, but the line starts to form at 5 AM.
All for $50.
In Muncie, it was $20, but you made an appointment and could sit comfortably and watch TV.

Aaron doesn’t’ want to get up at 5 AM, so he told me that he has decided to stop selling his body, and will just start donating, again, like I do, at the Indiana Blood Center on Meridian.

He is thinking of other ways to make up for the loss of income, however.

He got out his old application to become a sperm donor. He was disappointed, though, when he found out they were not accepting new sperm donors.

Story of the Day 1/2/2010

At dinner we were talking about New York and the 5 boroughs, and how some parts of New York are near the city , and people may even say they are from New York City, but they are not.
Like East Rockaway.

The five boroughs, as we explained to Aaron, are Manhattan, Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens, and Staten Island.

Aaron says” that really sound like a bad place to live.”
“Well, parts of new York are bad.”

”No, I mean the name of it makes it sound like a really bad place to live. I mean Satan Island. I don’t know why they named it that.”

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Story of the Day 12/24/2010

My son has decided to quit college. He is not going to return to Ball State for the spring semester. He is going to live at home. In our basement.

My son wants to be a filmmaker. Employment in the arts is always a questionable affair, so paying rent is always a struggle. Because of this, I have told him, several times over the past few years, that he will be welcome to return home and live in our basement while he struggles to be a filmmaker. Of course, I didn’t’ really envision him taking me up on the offer before the end of his sophomore year of college.

He must really be desperate.

Just imagine, having to live with your parents who can smell it if you smoke pot, and who will know if you have a girlfriend in the house and who will know when you come and go. Of course, I doubt if he could get any girlfriend to come back with him to his new place. You see, we don’t’ have a basement, it is a crawl space that is about 4 feet high and the floor is gravel and it is cold and dark, and on a bad day, you can share the space with some rodents or a raccoon.

Although, so far we have not had a raccoon issue.

I will repeat myself. He must really be desperate.

And, ironically, my eldest is moving INTO a closet to avoid moving back home with us. (times are desperate).

At least it is a walk-in closet…..

Monday, January 3, 2011

Story of the Day 12/24/2010 #2

Cindie asked me if I have died.
To my face.

A lot of people wish it, but I usually don’t’ get asked that question.


Either that or maybe she asked me what is wrong with me. But she can’t have asked me that, because she knows the entire long list.


At any rate, as I explained, I haven’t died.

The computer did.

It was comatose for a couple of weeks, during which we were not sure if it was able to be revived or if it would need to be buried at some far flung recycling center.


After much hard labor from Larry (my husband) and Lewis ( our neighbor the computer maven) it does seem to be breathing on its own, and even starting to take some steps.

And it is also fit to type Stories of the Day – which is really what she was asking about- their absence, I mean.


Nice to know I was missed! Thank you Cindie!