Sunday, December 9, 2007

Put On My Graveyard Suit

Been to three wakes in six weeks. My dad's partner Big Bill, from a few entries back, lost his sister, but sandwiched around that, his wife Joan lost bother her parents. It was weird tonight, seeing the empty chair the old man had sat in back in November. Bill keeps trying to get dad to go to these monthly cop gatherings, but my dad just wants to forget most of it. What the hell, I'm the one telling all the stories, including the one that pushed him over the edge, the crack mother who rolled over on the mattress and melted her baby into a coil heater. The funeral home is in Archer Heights, still a pretty big polak enclave. An Apteka is a kind of drug store. Lots of Zimne Piwo OLD STYLE signs on the taverns. I have a Bobak Sausage jar that I use to keep heads in (my twin nieces' broke a lot of things when they were tykes, and I stopped complaining once I realized how fun a head jar would be. Because all my work clothes now consist of jeans and t-shirts, all smelling of ink and odors not found in the Aqua-Dots from China, I've only worn my suit four times this year. Yeah, that one above. I miss wearing my ties, my Universal Monsters tie, my Casablanca tie. I bought that really creepy tie with the swimmers at the thrift store, but I've yet to wear it, not having any clothing to match it. Perhaps I'll wear it when I'm on the 66th Floor of the Sears Tower screaming "I AM SPARTACUS!" I'll bet the news choppers will zoom in, thinking the tie is a clue....Wayne