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This may be a surprise to some of the newer members but some of the aging blog readers here on LitNet will occasionally see my name and mumble drama queen. Perfectly understandable. The drama queen is a harsh mistress and demands her due.

What will be hard to believe for some is that I do know where the boundary lines are. As I have told my nephew Stephen I like to read Batman comics. I do not want to BE Batman. I wish he knew as much.

This entry will cover the past week in which low expectations were proven to be higher then the bitter reality. Some of the older readers may pick up the idea that communications with my mother are a bit strained and 325 is the winning lottery number while you're about it. Just don't know which day it will hit. (NOTE: 325 is the number of issues of The Shadow 1931-1949). And no I don't play the lottery I just max out credit cards--least that way I have something to show for the separation of hand and currency. Now bear in mind that my third grand-child, first grand-daughter Mari Grace was born on a Friday. Yet on Monday I STILL have yet to call my mother with the news. The pressure is on. To delay much longer will be further proof of my reluctance to bring her into my life beyond the pathetic formalities I've been practicing for at least the last eight years. The busy time at work and weekend excuse would never have worked in the younger days and a sharp rebuke in the form of a letter from Dad would have been my reward (which is why I have NONE of his letters to me over the years and just a few notes from Mom. I tossed the collection of obituaries she would send if she spotted someone I even remotely knew so I dreaded getting mail from home in the Air Force days. My kids will say I'm no letter writer and they too would be correct. Phones yes--do okay there when I'm in the mood.

Anyhoo Monday is chugging along when fleet driver Quinton and I have a quarrel over the radio that I won by default. I informed him there was room for only one person in AAA with a chip on the shoulder and that was me so lose his. The argument started when I wasn't getting straight answers to what he was doing. Minor scuffle that went nowhere and hugs and kisses rendered next day. He will never now how I could have elevated the tiff and made his life miserable by getting him transfered back to his station but I have a distaste for that kind of office politics and rarely practice it. The grizzley must be poked repeatedly to elicit that sort of reaction as we are very aware of Vengeance is Mine saith the Lord and if the heart often is not what it should be we at least can fake the lip service to more torments of the soul at the end of the day when I'm attempting to count the sins of the day committed and wondering which ones I'm pretending were Acts of God. Remember buck passing started with Adam.

The good thing that came out of this argument was I got a shot of adrenalin that jump started the dead spine which straightend up and I went to the conference room and put in the call to Mom.

One would think in a nursing home the phone would be by the bed. Nope I suspect the nurses put it on a table to force Mom to get out of bed. She can walk a bit if she really wants to. I let at least a dozen rings go thru with no answer. Odd it's after the dinner hour where could she be? Sitting at the group living room comparing Your Kid Never Visits stories is not her style--she prefers to reign in her room so I call sister Elaine to get it on record that an attempt is made. She's not home either but talk to brother-in-law Gary and share the news and declare I'll check back later.

Later is Tuesday (used to be a Buffy night now is celebrated as House M.D. night) and when this time I call Mom my sister Elaine answers. She had just arrived to visit Mom. Now one reason I had put off calling was because of her treatment last month of Elaine and using me to make her point. I never told Mom I was irritated with her because she would never have understood or agreed with me so why bother?! Plus I'm mellowing and trying (barely) to honor my mother in some slap dash manner. Mom does as expected -- enthralls me with the tale of the blister on her foot and the interesting fluids that can be derived from it depending on your medical expertise. Little Mari is dismissed within three questions, then back to the health report and the quality of boredom that's there to be had at said nursing facilitity. I'm so used to this I barely get my back up. I have my own games to play and I'm about to go for it. (Remember I told you all -- ad nausea, that I am s-h-a-l-l-o-w.

I start by mentioning to Elaine my self-imposed exile from calling Mom as a gesture of sympathy for her lot in life and a chance for her and I to do our mantra of Life is hard--then we die. Woe is me. Yada yada yada. Then the drama queen wants her moment in the sun. Concerned friends and acquaintances on LitNet expressing concerns for my health is one thing but can flesh and blood do better? We are ego tripping here now. I tell Elaine NOT to inform Mom then drop the "C" word.

"Are you kidding?"

By no means the response I expected. Shallow yes, disease humor --not my style considerating our hypochrondriac maternal one. I assure her of the smooth waters ahead and grow up a bit and chuck the ego and said just wanted her to know (just in case).

Then the evening takes a 180 degree turn when I ask how HER brood of vipers are doing? Mine are guttersnipes (which can be loved) hers are the real ungrateful ones--guttersnipes is too easy a word--vipers more then works in their case. Second son Scott was working on a brakeline and got brake fluid in the eyes and intimate contact with an emergency room for several hours and still has fuzzy vision. Not sure if it will clear up. Daughter Michelle's wedding coming along--the invite arrived yesterday--still unopened by me--I know the date and already made the answer known--can't--no free truck from Dan to go and no credit card with $300 to cover the trip with a rental card. I could do New York on $150 but we like to have a little fun when back home. Plus my son's child custody case in one week prior and I hope to be in court for that. Then the BIG news-Julie left Steven.

What??!! Steven - he who worships Mtpspur and wanted him so much to be at his wedding last November 2005 he fumbled the plane reservations and I drove Dan's truck to New York (while he was in Iraq) and suffered the torments of the dammed at that horrible six hour reception let alone a meal I could (to be honest WOULD) not eat--we're that fussy. That Steven and Julie. Apparently she might return to him that night so Elaine asked me not to call him. He did want to speak to me as soon as convenient for both of us. That would be Saturday as in today.

Instead:

I call Elaine again Wednesday this time at her home (in absence of Mom's listening ear and love of scandal) to get some insights. I've been aware Steven drinks a bit much but always thought he was the annoying sloppy crybaby type. I had forgotten his temper. He had gone to a family reunion with Julie at her brother's home. Been drinking a bit and was getting mouthy. He was feeling excluded and he copes by butting into conversations. This gets him a free ride home while Julie remains. One thing I have observed about her---nothing stops her from coming and going as she pleases--nothing. She is about to regret not tucking dear Stevie in bed. Steve broods in the classic manner that I thought only I had perfected to an art form (remember I said I know fantasy from reality). Now Rochester NY has some rough neighborhoods so he grabs his Rambo knife (and we have a title) for protection and plods back to the party where he demonstrates moral outrage at his being "disrepected" -an annoying and overused term I get tired of hearing and now wish I had tried harder to break him of rather then thinking Kids-Bah!! An impromptu saberdance performance involving close proximity to Julie's little button nose earns him a trip to the pokey, six days in detox and a judge warning him to stay away from the familly--her brother primarily and Julie has a happry reunion with her stuffed animals in her old family bedroom.

I digest this for a night-do some cursory prayer and advice seeking at work. I call Elaine on Thursday to discuss strategy and lo and behold her prodigal (who rarely visited since getting married) is at her place competing with Job and Jeremiah for the record in Lamentations. (They at least had a righteous cause.)

I spend about a half hour trying very hard to get him to stand on his feet. He admits a drinking problem--but says he no longer wants to drink and thinks he won't ever again. I inform him that will change in about three weeks when he doesn't see it coming and he better get used to trying not to drink at all. He'll make many possitive statements then turns them on their ear with a "But" which negates the positive. I tell him he's too much in love with wallowing in his guilt and to get up and do something. How about that visitto Grand-mother that he's been promising to do for months now for a start?

To my amazement his protest to that is that he's afraid if he visits Grandma he'll cry. I give this objection the scorn it truly deserved by pointing out to him the shortest verse in the Bible is John 11:35-"Jesus wept." and He was certainly a man's man.

Suddenly all wise Uncle Mtpspur isn't all knowing. Neither here nor there. He wants her back and wants her now. She wants him to grow up--get (and keep) a job--he left his latest one with a security company because he couldn't meet the time limits imposed when house alarms go off. I take her side to a point. I do not agree a separation should be longer then three days IF the offending party is sincere in reforming. Otherwise it gets harder and harder when two people aren't interacting together to save the marriage. Julie's parents have money and I suspect that's hard to break off from. Plus she's leaving town anyway for a week for a visit with a girlfriends--which would have happened before the split but now Steven is taking THAT personally. My feeling is both of them need to work the reconciliation together. Steven to step up and grow up, and Julie to see that he does but expecting that growing up from this day forth to be taken seriously. Recess is over--the school of hard knocks is just beginning.