Hoffman’s Home for Wayward Boys, Part Deux
Or, Uncle Jim takes on a boarder.
That’s so much classier than claiming to be a slumlord, don’t you think? Of course, with the state my house is in, it might be closer to the truth! Anyway, I just thought I’d update my gentle readers with the knowledge that “Doc” moved in today. It’s going to be a bit while we rearrange everything, but, I think it will be good once we’re settled. Hilda is getting used to the idea of having someone else in the house, which is good. My poor, brown girl has been so anti-socialized from her time in the clutches of the Harpy that she’s still a little skittish around strangers. (And, trust me, kids, few are stranger that “Doc”! Just kidding, Doc, just kidding.)
Also, Doc brought me clove cigarettes. Now, this might horrify some of you, but, yes, I’ve been smoking a bit. Just one cigarette per day and two on the weekends, but, still… I’ve been under a lot of stress this year and, well, it’s the holidays and… Okay, here’s the deal. I was jonesing for a smoke some time back and, when I told my head-shrink about it, his response was, “Well, it’s not as bad as some of the things you’ve done. Other than the health aspect, of course.” Sheesh! Well, with that kind of encouragement, I lit up again. And quit for a couple of days. And, lit up again. This time, I promise, it’s just through Christmas and, after my current batch runs out, I’ll stop. Again. (Oh, yeah, like anyone reading this blog really cares that much, right? I mean, it’s not like my mother reads this. Whatever.) Sometime I’ll have to explain more about why this time of year tends to inspire me to smoke. Until then, I’ll just remind you that I am Mr. Bad Example. But, what I thought was funny about the clove cigarette thing was that “my people” were taking care of me.
Never ceases to amaze me how folks come out of the woodwork to give me things I need or want or whatever. I’m like the Geek Godfather. My favorite phrase is “Yeah, I think I know a guy.” I’m told you used to hear that on the South Side a lot, back when my Dad was a kid. Regardless, my people always come through for me, no matter how bizarre the request. Sure, sometimes it’s a close call, but, still they always come through. Always. It’s almost enough to make me believe in guardian angels. Almost.
Well, enough update. While Doc settles in some, I’m off to see a The Chronicles of Narnia with another friend. And, with that, I’ll leave you with a quote. As a “prize” for guessing who said it, I’ll vote your way to whoever comes up with it first. (Except for you, Doc. You’re too damn smart for your own good!) Good luck!
“In every real man a child is hidden that wants to play.”