Wednesday, August 25, 2004

Hail, the Conquering Hero!

I don't know why I chose that title. I just did. It doesn't particularly excite me. Or you. Or probably anyone on the planet, except perhaps Robin Williams, and if you get that reference, you need a life more than I do.

My parents pretty much bought a house today. That's news because one doesn't just up and buy a house very often. Or very fast. But my parents buy houses fast. They think-think-think about buying a house. Then they plan-plan-plan to buy a house. Then they do the math-math-math about buying a house.

Then they look at three houses and buy the best one. Plunk money down. Buy it. Go back to the old house and start packing, baby, because here we come!

So, in probably just a few short months, they'll be on their way back here to Pennsylvania from gorgeous Las Vegas, where they have lived for the past ten years. And just when I was going to get famous and published and have the money to move out there myself. Figures. Now I can't even buy their house myself for a wink and a smile. Pleh.

Oh well. Lake Mead is 1/3 full anyway, so I'm probably better off back here where we get flooded basements deeper than Lake Mead on a bad day.

Still, the prospects loom large here of an eventual move to West Virginia. Nothing definite yet, by any stretch of the imagination. But, it is in the Distant Realm of Possibility. I'm trying not to be frightened by the thought of knocking out all my front teeth as required by law down there and living in a trailer and storing old car tires on my front porch and using a ratty old tweed couch as patio furniture.

I realize I can write and proofread anywhere, but can a sane person do these things in West Virginia? Oh, the shame. Oh, the horror.

Back to my parents' move.

I've never lived closer than 300 miles to my parents. Well, aside from when I was a child and lived with them. Then I was just 300 miles away mentally, but that's really not the same thing, is it? No, didn't think so. Will they start showing up on my doorstep with cute little knick-knacks they just found at the shopping center that they have to show me? Will my mom start coming over with a Handi-Wipe and some Pine Sol and spontaneously clean my kitchen while she's supposedly here to have coffee and chat? Will my dad come over and offer to fix things that aren't even broken yet, and say things like, "Hey, kiddo, how ya doin'?" and "When's that book coming out?" and "What were the lottery numbers today?"

Ahh, you can take the man out of Vegas, but you can't take Vegas outta the man.


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