April 9, 2003
Today is the day to write things down on your to-do list that you've already done.
Ask Dr. Hot Pants a question. She knows. Maybe.
Snow in April? Wha? Wha?
I'm back on Dezmin, and it feels so good.
Also, I have nothing to do with this website, but don't you think we all need a little bling-bling in our lives?
Today you can find me in print twice. Okay, maybe one and an eighth times. If you grab the current isssue of Vanity Fair, check out the article on the Pritzker family by the fine, fine reporter Suzanna Andrews. I helped research this piece. When you get to the part where an associate of the family begins slinging anti-Semitic slurs, think of me: I found that document.
Also, if you are in Chicago, check out today's Chicago Tribune WomanNews section. I have an article called "If You're Kissing, Don't Tell, Especially When You're Drinking." (You can read it online, too--registration costs nothing.)
41
This was a new one for George, and he couldn't believe he hadn't considered it earlier. He was driving Meredith absolutely insane by being so nice. For the last day she walked cautiously around the house with the expression of somebody who thinks that everybody around them has been brainwashed (with the knowledge of the slight possibility that the suspector herself was insane.)
For George, it was surprisingly simple. The children were bought off easily and were easily impressed. They found their Uncle George a curious object and were satisfied just for his attention. Hey didn't talk down to them and he wasn't afraid to talk about adult stuff in front of them, even to swear (when he did this, the kids giggled and blushed but knew better than to repeat what George said.)
For Chooklie, the dog, it was as easy as carrying around bits of bologna sandwich in his pockets. This guaranteed that the dog worshipped him and also kept his nose out of his crotch (the dog's nose, George's crotch.)
With Bob, Meredith's husband, George, it was just a matter of surfing the conversational wave. Bob, tall, thin, bald, bespectacled and mustachioed, was one of those people who was a curious mix of quiet and talkative. Bob was very friendly and talked in a quiet, shy voice, but since he worked in an office filled almost exclusively with women, he craved the company of men. When Bob talked about things that George knew or cared about, say, fancy beers or food, George was able to pitch in the discussion. When Bob talked about sports, or mechanics or movies, George nodded along and let the conversation build and crest until a new topic came up.
Meredith was no problem since she was so blown away by George's new personality. George was such a jerk at the beginning of the visit (in other words, himself), but he'd changed, and Meredith couldn't figure out why. It would never occur to her that her brother would need anything, but then again, she still couldn't fathom why her brother had come to visit in the first place.
George simply figured that right before he left, he'd take advantage of Meredith's stunned mindset and pump her for information on her novel without the acrimony they encountered at the beginning of the visit.
To tell the truth, George didn't mind being nice to his family. It was the same way with his brother Tom. Minimal effort; it was like playing a game or pretending to be somebody else. He felt like he was doing research, or stocking up on supplies. You never knew when you'd need to rely on your brother in law, or nieces and nephews, or dog in law for help. Even your sister. And being nice would make that help easier to procure.
It also didn't hurt that George made sure he was profoundly stoned for the duration of the visit.