I learned the term years ago and I love it: an askhole is a person who draws you in with a "vital life question," has you spend time and effort giving your best answer, but goes ahead and does whatever they were going to do in the first place, anyway. We all have lots of these folk in our lives.
But yesterday, until late, was a golden Wednesday, a Miercoles Gigante, as I named it. First, Wifey's back is much better, and she was able to drive with me to D1's house in the regular car seat, instead of curled up, lying down in the back. I much prefer having a wife to visit grandkids instead of a sack of potatoes I haul around.
We arrived, and D1 was flitting about as usual -- when the boys aren't home, the place looks like kids don't live there -- everything put away and organized and clean. To her credit, when they DO come around, chaos is allowed, even encouraged, but then her instincts kick in and she returns the place to Scandanavian standards.
D2 arrived with Betsy. It was 3 pm. D1 pulled out the Tito's and a glass, and said "Dad -- boys aren't coming home for 2.5 hours -- why not day drink a bit. It puts you in such a great mood." There are plenty of old Dads who would have refused. Drinking on a weekday at 3? But this Dad is not one of those, and so I did as offered. A few sips in, I toasted Wifey and the Ds -- after a rough 2025, may this time, between Purim and Pesach, be one where we thank the Big Man for all His manifold blessings, and ask for resolution of issues we face, going forward.
D1 suggested a walk, and so we loaded the special needs Spaniel into a stroller, leashed up the skittish one, and brought Betsy along -- she sticks near D2 like glue. It's just a 5 minute walk to Biscayne Bay, and it was a breezy one -- truly delicious as we chatted our way down 81st street in Shorecrest. Shorecrest is a VERY old Miami 'hood -- lots of houses with maritime themed decorations -- flags made of driftwood, etc. You hear folks say "Miamuh" a lot -- a dead giveaway for those here after several generations. Of course, houses they probably paid under $100K for now cost $2-$3M -- but such is our city -- not lots of young folks can afford to buy here anymore. Hell, Wifey and my first house, $86 K in 1986, would now go for $700K -- and it's tiny, and NOT anywhere near the delightful breezes of the Bay.
Anyway, we stood there awhile, and said our hellos to the spirits of my parents --D1 brought a tear to my eye reminding me of when she was 3 and one stormy morning looked up with her doe eyes and asked "Daddy -- would Grandpa Hy have loved me?" Oh hell yes he would have. We also said a hello to D1's beloved Madeleine, who crossed the Rainbow Bridge and had her ashes scattered in the Bay, too, on a rainy, gray day.
Oh, I was the luckiest Grandpa and Daddy in the USA -- surrounded by my "surfeit of X chromosomes," as Barry notes, and knowing a couple of Y chromosome boys would be joining us soon.
We walked back, and the critical discussion about dinner was had -- settling on a favorite, Mykonos which now has a "ghost kitchen" in Midtown. The Ds hilariously described what that meant to Wifey.
The Ds and Betsy left to fetch dinner, and then the terramotos (Spanish for earthquakes) came via nanny. They were SO excited about their days at school, and what was for dinner, and Little Man got back a painted box he gave to a girl but gave it to a different girl, and, and, and...
The Ds arrived with food, and we sat around eating the delicious pitas, and Greek salads, and then Little Man spotted a neon lighted box on the counter. What was it? Ah -- Wifey bought them a karaoke machine. Just then, I got a call -- there was an urgent question. Could it wait -- I was in the middle of a Golden Wednesday. "Well how long -- this is critical?" 2 hours? Well if it must...
If there's something more adorable than a 6 year old boy and his sidekick 3.5 year old brother sing with a karaoke machine -- well -- I don't know what it is. Plus, this one has voice modulations, so the boys learned they could have different voices -- low, monster sounding, to high pitched effiminate man voices.
There was laughter. There was love. It was exquisite.
Around 7, we all left, as the boys were headed to baths and school night pre bed activities. And then I remembered -- I had told the inquisitor I would call back. I did.
The details aren't important -- but talking about harshing the mellow I had. The asker went on and on -- feigning interest in my advice, but prepared to tell me at each turn no -- she was going to do this. Poor Wifey didn't get the concept of the askhole, and she was on her Google search trying to get data about the issue. I over ruled -- it was clear to me that facts and data weren't being sought -- just affirmation for what indeed sounded like one of the stupidest things I had heard in a long while.
I got another call, and had to flee. Wifey said "Wow -- that really set you off." It did, and for other, deeper reasons. But no matter - I asked Wifey for future help. If I'm having a great day, and any askhole calls -- please remind me -- wait a day until I answer.
Ain't nobody, with VERY small exceptions, have a right to rain on my parades anymore. Life has a way of doing that anyway -- bad issues, health or financial or social -- allowing people not essential to you that license is folly. I don't plan to commit that folly again.
But no animals were harmed in the making of the Miercoles Gigante. We have D1's skittish Spaniel -- D1 is off to Chicago for a week for a business opportunity that is MOST promising -- right up her alley in expertise, and making connections with the machers of Miami.
I used to be good at that. D1 is next level amazing at it. In fact, an old friend from ATL told her her daughter moved here -- would D1 have lunch with the young, single marketing exec and share thoughts about careers and life? She would -- I will take Mom and daughter and D1 out for brunch in a few weeks. D1 and D2 make me proud.
As for this am, I have "either a call or Zoom" with CPA Mark to work on 2025 taxes. I opted for Zoom -- neither of us is pretty enough to have to see each other. The bad news is my income was far down in 2025. The good news ought to be lower taxes owed -- we'll see.
And the askholes -- well -- they just have to wait awhile. And that's fine.
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