Mirror mirror on the wall - who has the reddest neck of all?
File this under: Shit I Couldn't Make Up Even if I Wanted To
This morning I was on the phone with my mom, hearing all the details of their trip to Lebanon, Missouri, hometown to the Poppy family's matriarchal line, pronounced "LEB-nin", usually in a deep Ozark twang. My parents and grandparents made a trip to Lebanon yesterday for the funeral visitation of Charlie Earl (name not changed to protect the probably never very innocent), one of my grandpa's many cousins. Or maybe he was my grandma's cousin. I don't know for sure, as there's some overlap in who's related to whom.
Anyway, Charlie Earl, who achieved his goal of being a welfare recipient many years ago, had a gaggle of adult children and a semi-new wife of seven years. Charlie Earl knew he was dying and he informed his wife of his exact wishes in regards to his funeral service. Mrs. Charlie Earl said that she would pay for the entire funeral, as long as no one in the family changed Charlie Earl's plans.
After his death, Charlie Earl's many progeny, most of whom my mom described as "ornerier than sin", showed up and offered their input into how they thought dear ol' dad should be sent to his heavenly home. Mrs. Charlie Earl, per Charlie Earl's wishes, informed the progeny that she would no longer be paying for the funeral. One of Charlie Earl's female progency decked Mrs. Charlie Earl, right there in the funeral home. Mrs. Charlie Earl decked back.
I suppose this might be a good time to tell you that the people in my mom's extended family can be easily divided into two sub-groups: those with teeth, and those without.
My mom skipped the actual visitation because Aunt Flory (again, name unchanged) would be present. Aunt Flory, who orchestrated the murder of Granny's brother, Uncle Dink (really - that was his name), about 25 years ago. Mom can't handle being anywhere near Aunt Flory, and the family didnt' think Granny should be near her, either. "She don't need to be 'round them none," said Grandpa. Granny disagreed, saying it would be wrong to not pay her respects.
"That is the good, Christian thing to do," said my mom's cousin Donita, who decided to do the unchristian thing and spend the visitation time with my mom at 91-year-old Aunt Idy's house. Donita's really skinny with large hair and great big sparkly rings on every finger. And teeth. She does have teeth.
"Charlie Earl's obituary said that he worked over 30 years for Berry Masonary," said Donita. "More like 30 minutes."
Unfortunately, I didn't get to hear the rest of the story. I don't know if anymore funeral home fistfights broke out, or if Granny suddenly turned unchristian when faced with Aunt Flory. During this point in the conversation, I looked out my living room window and saw a cop walking up to my front door.
It seems the neighbor behind us has issued a formal complaint about my hound dogs:
Barking dog: Willfully and knowingly allowed dogs to bark, disturbing the peace of complainant (insert drunken redneck name here) at (insert address of house with camper on blocks in yard here) in the late hours and through the night.
Yes, I do have barking hound dogs. That's why I keep them inside at night. Every night. This is exactly what we told this neighbor in April when she complained directly to us. We even proved this to her, when she complained about our dogs barking during a weekend in which our dogs were out of town. "Well, I cain't 'member what happened that weekend. I was drunk." That's what she said. She's having drunken hallucinations of dogs barking and she's filed complaint against us.
So, I have a court date - on my daughter's first birthday, no less - in which I was be forced to prove that it ain't my dawgs doin' the barkin' and that she either needs to mind her own fuckin' bidness or sober up and buy some dayum earplugs. And then, since it's in my family lineage to do so, I'll deck the shit outta her raight there in court. Fuck, I gots people in my fam'ly who'll start a knock-down drag-out in a funeral home. Ain't no tellin' what I'll do in municipal court.
This morning I was on the phone with my mom, hearing all the details of their trip to Lebanon, Missouri, hometown to the Poppy family's matriarchal line, pronounced "LEB-nin", usually in a deep Ozark twang. My parents and grandparents made a trip to Lebanon yesterday for the funeral visitation of Charlie Earl (name not changed to protect the probably never very innocent), one of my grandpa's many cousins. Or maybe he was my grandma's cousin. I don't know for sure, as there's some overlap in who's related to whom.
Anyway, Charlie Earl, who achieved his goal of being a welfare recipient many years ago, had a gaggle of adult children and a semi-new wife of seven years. Charlie Earl knew he was dying and he informed his wife of his exact wishes in regards to his funeral service. Mrs. Charlie Earl said that she would pay for the entire funeral, as long as no one in the family changed Charlie Earl's plans.
After his death, Charlie Earl's many progeny, most of whom my mom described as "ornerier than sin", showed up and offered their input into how they thought dear ol' dad should be sent to his heavenly home. Mrs. Charlie Earl, per Charlie Earl's wishes, informed the progeny that she would no longer be paying for the funeral. One of Charlie Earl's female progency decked Mrs. Charlie Earl, right there in the funeral home. Mrs. Charlie Earl decked back.
I suppose this might be a good time to tell you that the people in my mom's extended family can be easily divided into two sub-groups: those with teeth, and those without.
My mom skipped the actual visitation because Aunt Flory (again, name unchanged) would be present. Aunt Flory, who orchestrated the murder of Granny's brother, Uncle Dink (really - that was his name), about 25 years ago. Mom can't handle being anywhere near Aunt Flory, and the family didnt' think Granny should be near her, either. "She don't need to be 'round them none," said Grandpa. Granny disagreed, saying it would be wrong to not pay her respects.
"That is the good, Christian thing to do," said my mom's cousin Donita, who decided to do the unchristian thing and spend the visitation time with my mom at 91-year-old Aunt Idy's house. Donita's really skinny with large hair and great big sparkly rings on every finger. And teeth. She does have teeth.
"Charlie Earl's obituary said that he worked over 30 years for Berry Masonary," said Donita. "More like 30 minutes."
Unfortunately, I didn't get to hear the rest of the story. I don't know if anymore funeral home fistfights broke out, or if Granny suddenly turned unchristian when faced with Aunt Flory. During this point in the conversation, I looked out my living room window and saw a cop walking up to my front door.
It seems the neighbor behind us has issued a formal complaint about my hound dogs:
Barking dog: Willfully and knowingly allowed dogs to bark, disturbing the peace of complainant (insert drunken redneck name here) at (insert address of house with camper on blocks in yard here) in the late hours and through the night.
Yes, I do have barking hound dogs. That's why I keep them inside at night. Every night. This is exactly what we told this neighbor in April when she complained directly to us. We even proved this to her, when she complained about our dogs barking during a weekend in which our dogs were out of town. "Well, I cain't 'member what happened that weekend. I was drunk." That's what she said. She's having drunken hallucinations of dogs barking and she's filed complaint against us.
So, I have a court date - on my daughter's first birthday, no less - in which I was be forced to prove that it ain't my dawgs doin' the barkin' and that she either needs to mind her own fuckin' bidness or sober up and buy some dayum earplugs. And then, since it's in my family lineage to do so, I'll deck the shit outta her raight there in court. Fuck, I gots people in my fam'ly who'll start a knock-down drag-out in a funeral home. Ain't no tellin' what I'll do in municipal court.
posted by Poppymom at 11:22 AM
8 Comments:
first, i gotta hear the rest of that funeral story! that cracked my shit up, seriously! :)
second, you want me to call in some favors on that neigbor? i know some people and i'm pretty sure they could take care of her for you...
Yeah, you want we should pay your neighbor a visit? Because that would be fun.
If you'd like, I can hire one of my grandmother's mob cousins to shoot her and dispose of the evidence.
sounds like a hootinanny
Goshdernit. I want to hear the rest of the funeral story! Stupid neighbor. I'm sure it'll all turn out okay for you. :) Glad you're back at your usual home on the web.
My grandma always wanted my cousin and I to travel back to the hills of West Virginia with her to meet the kin and learn where the family roots ran. Now that she is passed away, I'm glad I never went!
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