I told you last month that I was asked by iMOM to write some material for an Espresso Minute. Well the moms really liked it. Nancy told me the article I wrote content for was on the list of top 10 views for the week it was posted. Wicked! If only those moms knew.
So, Nancy has asked me to write again. This one may be a little harder, but I’m going to give it the ole child-less try! Stay tuned.
July 4th Week, 2011 will mark the 6th anniversary of my break-up with the Pothead. I will, for the duration of this story, refer to him as the Pothead. For once you are no longer a boyfriend of mine, you cease to have a real name. I’ll give you one guess why he’s called the Pothead. This name is predicated on the fact that if this boy’s eyes were open, he was smoking pot. It was not a redeeming quality of his, obviously, but he had made certain promises and I had hoped he was planning on keeping them. Guess what? He didn’t.
One promise was that he would try to quit smoking and in taking steps to do that, would only smoke at home. Receiving that in the spirit in which it was given, I accepted that as a reasonable compromise. It wasn’t until I’d finally talked him into visiting my Mother that I realized he had no intent of keeping that promise. We made the trip from Tampa to Panama City and stopped at almost every rest stop so he could smoke. I know what you’re thinking - that’s not very safe and you are so right. I thank God everyday for keeping me from harm’s way during this relationship. We charged on and finally made the 5 and a half hour trip in about 7 hours.
Once we got there, the Pothead preceded to mentally and physically check-out of the visit. I didn’t know until later that he had gotten some vicodin to help facilitate that. He would make trips out to his truck to smoke and it was getting to be a little awkward. The first day, my Mother asked, “Why does he go out to his truck so much?” My reply, “He has to talk to his mother.” The next day, Mother says, “He talks to his mother a lot.” My next reply was, “MAMA! He’s smoking pot!” Needless to say, my Mother was furious. She wanted to call the police right then, but I persuaded not to. I wouldn’t be able to get home if he was in jail, plus we were living together at the time and that wouldn’t make for a very happy home life.
We hatched an exit strategy. I would stay in the relationship until the end of our rental lease, which was December (just a reminder, this happened in July). And when it would come time to renew, I would say to him, “I’m going this way and you’re not. Peace.” So it was settled and at the end of our visit, the Pothead and I headed back to Tampa. Once there, I had the rest of the week off, but the Pothead had to go back to work. I spent the better part of the rest of the week thinking about how the next 5 months would go down. I couldn’t even fathom having to go on with this sham of a relationship. I was no longer interested in seeing him, being near him, much less all the other things that you do in a relationship. I had to get out of it, but I knew there would be consequences. The biggest one being that we were probably going to have to still live together for the next 5 months. Thank God we lived in a 3 bedroom house. Side Note:We were living with the Pothead’s friend, who is now my friend, Niki, too.
I’d like to state for the record that I am not usually the one to do the breaking-up. I’m usually the dumpee, but in this case, I did the dumping just in the nick of time and, if I do say so myself, in the grandest of fashions. Once I decided this had to end, I went about making the Pothead’s favorite meal. It was pot roast with potatoes and carrots, gravy, green beans, and biscuits. I alerted Niki to the impending occasion and told her it might be better if she wasn’t there, but not to be gone all night, in case I needed reinforcements. When the Pothead got home, he showered and then made his way to dinner. The place settings were in place and the meal was all laid out. We sat down to dinner. He was seated at the head of the table and I was seated to his left. The conversation was the normal “how was your day” type stuff. It definitely wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, when I couldn’t take it anymore. I loaded my fork with roast and potatoes and as I lifted it, I said to him, “I’m breaking up with you” and quickly inserted the fork into my mouth. He immediately said, “What?” To which I said, “This is happening. I’m done with you.” With that, he went into a tirade, “I can’t believe you fixed this nice meal just to break up with me.” Again I said, “This is happening.” From that point on, as you can imagine, the meal went downhill. He got up and we continued to argue through the putting away of the leftovers and the washing of the dishes. If I’d thought better about it, I should have served the meal on paper plates, that way I could have thrown them away and maybe used it as a visual so that he would understand what was happening. “You are this used, dirty paper plate and I’m throwing you away” but, I only just thought of that.
The meal did, in fact, have the desired effect. It was the nicest way I could send the Pothead off, but he didn’t deserve it.
I’m sure I will write about the next 5 months of that year over time. There are a few other gems from the Pothead Chronic-cals still to be told.
3 words: More poor choices. The tar and feathering of Ashley after her reveal to the guys that Bentley was in Hong Kong was all I had anticipated.I’m not quite sure what she thought was going to happen, but clearly she didn’t put herself in the guy’s shoes. Roles reversed, I bet money she would have reacted the same way. I knew straight away that it was not going to sit well with those guys and true to form, it went off like Vesuvius.
Winners
Mickey – Kudos for exiting boat left. I applaud him getting off the crazy train. He was by far the smartest man on the room.
Ben F. and Constantine: Kimono Kings – Way to embrace failure with flare. Loved it. Watch out for a run on red silk kimonos.
Losers
The entire Bachelorette viewing audience - To date, there goes 12 hours of our lives we'll never get back.
Line of the Night
“Who is it?” – Bentley after Ashley knocks on the hotel room door. Really?!?! You’re in Hong Kong. We’re you expecting someone else?
“You could have just called.” – Ashley to Bentley after she “finally” realized the “dot, dot, dot” was actually a period. I’ve been right where Ashley was sitting. When she realized the conversation she and Bentley were having could have happened over the phone, she said exactly what I said to my person. I, of course, handled it much differently. My response was the same “You could have just called”, but I peppered mine with a little unsavory language.
Bush League
I have to say, Ashley swearing at Bentley in a video confessional was low rent. Sister, if you want to cuss someone a blue streak, it stands to reason that the person be in front of you in order to have the maximum desired effect. Granted, one cuss word doesn't make a decent blue streak, but it can be a fair beginning.
If you didn’t cuss him a blue streak and you used this moment to say what you wish you would have said in front of him: FAIL. If you did indeed cuss him a blue streak and the producers chose not to show it: FAIL.
I liken my current living situation to the plight of the Israelites. I’ve been living in a foreign land and oppressed by the establishment. My Egypt is the Westchase area of Tampa and the establishment is the suburbia family-types. I don’t have a Moses. I just finally came to my senses and after 2 years of a self-imposed incarceration, I’m leaving the Westchase. I am returning to my Promise Land, South Tampa.
I call it my self-imposed incarceration because despite many of my peeps telling me not to move there, I did anyway. Hindsight is always 20/20 and I know now that I should have never left. Lesson learned.
Here are 5 things I will NOT miss about Westchase:
The 30 minute drive to do anything fun – FACT: Fun lies just beyond the distance one could travel from my apartment in 30 minutes. It’s really hard to be spontaneous when you need at least 30 minutes notice.
Speed bumps - I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the deterioration of the Little Red Wonder’s motor mounts was caused by the obnoxious number of speed bumps. There would be no need for speed bumps if the parents located in this suburbia would do a better job of corralling their children. V. Grimes’ Parenting Tip #56: Don’t encourage your children to play in the streets unsupervised. It’s common sense really.
The elephants that lived above me - I never got my peepers on them, but they had to be the only humans that have lead-coated feet.
The looming outbreak of a holy war – That’s all I’m going to say about that.
Vultures – It is amazing and scary to me how many vultures swarm around Westchase. On any given day you can see anywhere from 1 to a pack of 20 hovering over a dead carcass.It really should be the official mascot. Also, Allison said that driving out to my place seemed like the drive one would take if they had murdered someone and needed a secluded place to dump the body. I’m sure that’s another reason for the existence of vultures in Westchase.
Much like the Israelites, I’m not headed directly to the Promise Land, but don’t be alarmed. My exodus is not going to last 40 years. I only have 5 weeks to wait before I can move into my new place.
Is it too soon or late to say that I don’t even care who Ashley picks, if she picks anyone or if she makes it through the After the Final Rose show without needing a straight jacket? At this point, it is a complete and total train wreck. I can’t look away because at any moment something crazy is going to happen that may, on the off chance, be worth seeing. Plus, what else have we got to watch on Monday nights? Reruns or Train Wreck? Advantage: Train Wreck.
Winners
ME – Finally, after 5 weeks of waiting, P-E-C-K-S! To say I enjoyed every last minute of the murdering of the art of Muay Thai fighting would be a gross understatement. I sat there staring gape-mouthed at the TV like a large-mouth bass as all those guys paraded across the screen shirtless in those little fight shorts. Redeemed.
Losers
Bachelorette Date Coordinator – Again, poor choices. This has to be the same person who had the idea for the roast. You put 8 guys, boxing gloves, a girl, some roses, testosterone, and all you get is a bad scene and a trip to the hospital.
William – Finally, you’re over and out. He showed a complete lack of class for someone who is supposed to be 30. He was right when he said “I’m a 30 year old boy.” Enjoy your time in Never Neverland. Spoiler: He will be a contestant on the next season of Bachelor Pad.
Post Fight Commentary
Blake vs. Lucas – There’s not much to say about this one. Of all the fights, they looked like the picked up the technique the best. Blake correctly defended Lucas’ leg kick by grabbing his leg, making Lucas fall to the mat. After that, Blake continued to throw punches and I think Lucas may have tapped out. Winner: Blake
Mickey vs. J.P. – First, this was a poor match-up. Mickey has to have a good 5 or 6 inches on J.P. If that’s true, it would mean that Mickey would have just about that much difference in arm reach. In a word picture, it would be an orangutan fighting a T-Rex. Despite that, J.P. was scrappy and came back from the brink of defeat to win. Advantage: T-Rex. Winner: J.P.
Ames “The Catfish” vs. Ryan P. “Solar Panel” – Solar Panel pummeled the pacifist inside The Catfish. Ames got his clock cleaned and was sent to the hospital. This fight worked out well for Solar Panel. Judging from last week, a lot or all of the guys are tired of him and probably would have jumped at the chance to knock his lights out. Winner?: Ryan P.
Nick vs. Constantine – Constantine didn’t seem to pose much a threat for Nick. Nick is bigger and in better shape than Constantine, but Nick took a straight right to the face and seemed to be done with this fighting. Winner: Constantine
Visually Assaulted
Week after week, I am visually assaulted by the excessive display of V-neck t-shirts. Note: This is another reason for my Peck Rain Dance. Yet, more assaulting than the abuse of the V-necks are the short skits on Ashley. Granted, she is a dancer and she does have nice legs despite being bow-legged as a jaybird, however, this in no way means that she needs to wear the shortest skirts made on the planet.Nobody wants to see your business and we’ve come dangerously close to seeing it on several occasions. If you can’t put your knees together, then skirts might not be the best apparel option for you. Just sayin’.
Bachelor Game Standings
79 – Allison
71 – Kevin
71 – Vicki
68 – Alex – He was tripped up by Nick’s exit.
Kudos to the Bachelorette editors: You had us all fooled with the Group Date Rose. We thought Ashley was sitting with Lucas and left him to go get the rose, but it was Blake. No bonus points this week.
I can’t wait for next week: Return of Bentley and the aftermath of “Hey guys! By the by, Bentley is here in Hong Kong and we hung out yesterday.” Let the tar and feathering begin!
Joe and I always have a really hard time thinking of gifts for Daddy. What do you get for the man who has everything or gets what he wants when he wants it? It’s so hard that we have resorted to giving a Home Depot gift card at every major gift-giving event. We don’t like doing it because it seems like a cop-out, but we also know it is exactly what he wants. See Daddy is real handy at fixing things and making things out of wood, so Home Depot is his heaven.
Trying to break these old habits, I really wanted to do something different. I got to thinking about the “old” days and the things we used to do together when it was just the three of us. My parents divorced in my early teen years. Joe and I lived with Mother, but spent weeks in the summer with Daddy. At the time, Daddy was in the Army and stationed at Fort Gordon in Augusta, GA. When it was time for us to stay with him, he would travel to Montgomery, pick us up from our Papa’s house and take us to Augusta. We made many trips from Montgomery to Augusta with him over the years and no trip was ever complete without a stop in Atlanta for a Braves game or two. With that, our Father’s Day gift was a no-brainer.
This Father’s Day, Joe and I took Daddy to a Braves game, just the three of us. The last time we were there together, the Braves were still in Atlanta Fulton County Stadium. I believe it may have been the summer of 1991. That year, the Braves roster held such names as Mark Lemke, Terry Pendleton, John Smoltz, Tom Glavine, David Justice, Ron Gant, and one Deion Sanders.
Joe got to pick the seats and he put us in left field, which just missed putting us in the shade. It was as hot as the blazes of hell in Atlanta that day and the sun was right over us. We felt like we were sitting under the heat lamp. After a couple of strategic moves, we finally found ourselves a cool place in the shade with an occasional breeze.
Despite the heat, it was a great game. The Braves beat the Texas Rangers 4-2 and saved the series sweep. My new favorite Brave, #5 Freddie Freeman, went 3 for 4 with 1 RBI and was named the player of the game. Freddie hit a fly ball to deep left field which bounced off the warning track and over the fence for a ground rule double. The game saving catch was made by leftfielder, Nate McLouth. Left field ended up being the place to be.
Daddy kept saying that this would be a memorable Father’s Day and it will be. We had the best time just being together, like old times.
Where would I be without my Daddy? I don’t even want to know, but here are a few things I do know I wouldn’t have.
I wouldn’t have my name. Daddy’s middle name is Vicky and Mother’s middle name is Lorraine, giving me my name, Vicki Lorraine. Now you may notice that it isn’t spelled the same and that's because Mother preferred it this way. Then, you might be thinking that Vicky is an odd name for a boy. True, but, from what I’ve been told, he got that name because of a clerical error at the hospital where he was born. It was supposed to be Vickery, which was a family name, but somehow a few letters fell off or Granny Grimes accent was really bad. Either way, it worked out well for me. I have a fantastic name.
I wouldn’t know what the weather was like in Montgomery. Who needs TV or fancy phones that will tell you what the weather is like all over the globe? I have my Daddy. He and I always talk on Sundays. It’s usually around 7:30pm or 8:00pm ET and when the phone rings, I need to answer. If I don’t, then his mind tends to wander and thoughts of me laying dead in a ditch creep in. When I answer, the first thing discussed is always the weather.
I wouldn’t have my love for the Alabama Crimson Tide. Daddy and I have shared love for the Crimson Tide. Sunday’s calls during football season, after we’ve discussed the weather, of course, we talk about Saturday’s game. He and I went to our first Alabama game together in 2008 at the inaugural Chick-fil-A Kick-off Classic in Atlanta. Alabama played Clemson, who was picked to win the game and also the projected winner of the ACC Championship. Guess what? They didn’t do either. Score was 34-10 and Clemson went 4-4 in the ACC. As Ray Goff would say, Alabama “took ’em behind the woodshed.” Roll Tide!
I wouldn’t have a strong sense of family. I’m not the only person who gets a call on Sundays. Daddy talks to Joe and his two brothers like clockwork. Daddy calls them or they call him. My cousin, Carla, jokes about how she knows when the brothers are on the phone with each other. First, it’s the weather, then Alabama football, when in season, and then politics. Throw in a joke or story about the family and you’ve been there. See a pattern forming?
Reunions are also very important. We have two reunions each year, one for my grandmother’s side of the family and one for my grandfather’s side. Both of Daddy’s parents passed away when Joe and I were very young, so for us, these reunions keep us connected with our family. I make an effort to travel up for them when I can, despite being one of two family members who live the farthest from the gathering places.
I wouldn’t have beautiful pieces of handmade furniture that make my friends jealous. Daddy is, as my best good friend, Allison would say, as handy as a shirt pocket. I would consider him a master wood craftsman. He can create, make, or fix just about anything. He made me an armoire and a hall tree for my house. He took the columns of the front of his house and made a four-poster king size bed out of them. People are always asking him to build things and if you ask nice, most times he will.
My Daddy has a lot of other qualities. He’s funny, smart, generous and loyal. He’s a devoted husband to his wife, Terry. He speaks his mind, but can hold his tongue, too. He’s willing to do whatever he can to help others. Along with being devilishly handsome, he’s one cool guy. I could go on and on, but I think you can tell I love him and I think I’ll keep him.
Zac Brown Band’s song, Highway 20 Ride, always makes me think of Daddy and how much I know he loves me. The song about a divorced father who travels to pick up his son and the thoughts that go through his mind during the ride. The songwriter got his inspiration while driving along Interstate 20 between Atlanta, Georgia and the Georgia/South Carolina state line in Augusta, Georgia to drop off his son, so that his mother could pick him up.
When our parents divorced, Joe and I lived with our mother. During the summer, we would stay with Daddy. We lived in Florida, so he would come and pick us up at our Papa’s house in Montgomery. The lyrics of this song hit me right in my tender hearted places because Daddy would travel I-20 from Augusta to Montgomery to come and get to us.
When I hear the first chingles of this song, it gets me every time - straight waterworks. I recently saw ZBB in concert and I literally lost my mind when Zac began to sing. Thank God I had my sunglasses on because I could tell it was one of those ugly cries. WARNING: You’re going to want to grab a tissue.
Daddy, I do smile when you cross my mind. I love you dearly. Happy Father’s Day.
