Multiply 365 Day 113 - The best of times, the worst of times....The Zombie Jesus Day edition

 

Sorry about getting all literary on the title, but it seemed the best route to go today, on a day that featured a little bit of everything. First off, Happy Easter everyone, or as some of my friends have put it, Happy Zombie Jesus Day. I have to admit, I would have made a very bad Jesus. If after getting strung up, given a crown of thorns and pummeled to death with stones, someone gets all Sega Genesis and hits the reset button on my life, I know that my first job after coming back is to go all Rambo on the motherfuckers that strung me up in the first place. And that my friends is why I am a manager at Smithfield News and not your messiah du jour. But we aren't here to talk about my career or lack thereof, we got some Zombie Jesus Day stories to tell.

Last week I had called my mom, a pretty good and lengthy chat during which she tried to persuade me to come home for Easter, which is an odd request in that we usually don't do much for that holiday. Sure, she will make baskets but it isn't like we sit down and make a big meal or anything, and with my grandmother no longer around, the one person who might have gotten more than a couple of people under one roof for a day like this, if only to see the youngest of the grandkids hunt eggs, that meant everyone just did their own little thing. Plus, as evidenced by yesterday's post, I did have stuff to do at work on Saturday and while I am sure Ed would have let me back burner the price changes until Monday, I already have shit to do Monday without adding to that pile. So Saturday was the best day for doing price changes, and with that and me needing to place a grocery order, it just seemed kind of stupid to rush home Saturday only to come right back on Sunday. So I guess I nixed that plan. Instead, earlier this week my mom suggested that her and Mike would be coming down to see me on on Sunday. Usually when they come down to visit it results in us going out to eat, and that is almost always at Golden Corral. While I have nothing against Golden Corral, the food is decent enough, and being a buffet you can almost certainly make a pig out of yourself if that is your life's calling. She didn't say what time they would be coming down, so I made sure to be up semi early in case they wanted to do brunch, or if they were early enough I might be able to talk them into a Deluca's breakfast, if I can get them over their aversion of not trying anything new. Not that breakfast foods are new by any stretch, but because I am sure they have no knowledge of the place, save for what I have mentioned in conversations (they do not read this blog, joining billions of others in that category). So I get up relatively early for me on a Sunday, 8am, and trudge down to the corner store for a morning cup of coffee because I was too lazy to make it at home.

I get back and nobody calls or anything for one hour, then two, then three. I entertained myself by playing Madden on Facebook (which Zombie Jesus would have done if he were alive today) and hung out in some Yahoo chat rooms making new acquaintances and just b s ing as only I can. Still nothing, I finish off my Facebook daily apps, get my daily Swagbucks offerings, and finally about 1:30 or so I am starting to wonder if they are coming at all. So I am seriously contemplating food, having not eaten yet and not knowing when or if they will show up. I fire up a pot of tea so I can make iced tea, and then toss an onion bagel in the toaster figuring that would tide me over until they eventually arrive. I had just finished making the tea, though it obviously wasn't cold yet, and had sat down at my desk to gnaw on my bagel when they arrive. Sure enough my mom had again made me an Easter basket (the Reese peanut butter bunnies are already extinct, so no you can't have none) and they wanted me to go with them to a late lunch (it was around 2pm) and of course they wanted to go to Golden Corral. What can I say, they are nothing if not predictable. The thing is, if you are going to go there on a holiday, you can't be showing up at 2pm and expecting to be seated right away. There was a line almost going out the door, and given how many people a typical Golden Corral seats, that means they were jam packed. So instead we turned around and opted instead for Lonestar Steakhouse.

This was my first visit to a Lonestar, so this will almost start to read like a restaurant review at times, and for that I am sorry. You all know how much I abhor doing reviews. Beyond a simple “I liked it” or “I didn't like it”, I am not all that qualified to go pontificating on things I know little about, like writing when it comes to books, or cooking when it comes to restaurants. I just know what I like. Anyway we go in and the first thing I notice is that they have available seating (thumbs up on Easter Sunday) and that everything was big, big chairs and booths, very roomy. It was like it was built for “Fat Camp” contestants. But that is okay, sometimes I like to sprawl out when eating and given how roomy the seating was made that a no problem kind of thing. No bumping elbows with anyone at the table, that is for sure. Of course it had the requisite 5 or so TVs, because we as a society have reached the point where we can't go anywhere without television being part of the package. Eventually places where you can go and sit and eat and converse without the interruption of at least one idiot box will go the way of my Reese bunnies. I also wasn't too keen on the country music being piped in for ambiance, if for no other reason than I pretty much hate country music. I don't care if Joe's wife left him and his truck is on blocks in the front yard and the tornado picked up his trailer and deposited it in the next county, I am eating here. The menu, which was big in size, was pretty standard for a steakhouse, lots of steak offerings with a few seafood and chicken dishes thrown in for good measure. There was even a couple of additional items, one of which I got in the rack of BBQ ribs and a loaded baked potato (with bacon, cheddar and sour cream). Mike got a steak and baked potato (though with only butter), I think it was a porterhouse (though I can't be certain) and my mom, ever the non adventurous sort, got chicken fingers and fries. I can't speak to anyone else's food, I am not the sort to go sampling anyone else's entrees and if anyone comes after mine they can be prepared to be stabbed with a fork, but the slab of ribs was big, fall off the bone good and maybe the only miss was their wasn't enough bite in the BBQ sauce, but that is probably a me and spicy foods thing more than anything else. Then I learned why they play music and have so many TVs, the conversation started.

Not really good conversation either, more like History Channel conversation. You know, the documentaries they run about myths and legends, like the lost city of gold. Well kids, that is where we went, except it was with my grandmother's estate (again!). As I mentioned previously, my mom got her first check, somewhere around $8000, which she said she would give some to me, and which I said I wanted none of, I am trying to stay as far from that mess as is humanly possible. Well now it was the lost money and who would get it. See, there are rumors of other accounts my grandmother had as well as money that was hidden in her house and no one seems to know where it went. My mom would feed the beast by saying, you know she had a CD that was worth x amount of dollars, and what not. Mike would then chime in with his outrage about how they didn't get a cut of this mysterious account. Meanwhile, Bigfoot and I are in the back going “I don't fucking care”. Hell, if my grandmother wanted people to have any of this mysterious money (if it even exists) all that bad she could have easily given it away before she died. It wasn't like we didn't have ample notice of her potential passing. Her death may have been somewhat sudden, but her deteriorating health certainly wasn't. You don't get the invite to the extended care living facility because of its luxurious benefits. Not that that type of logic would ever find its way into the conversation taking place, it was more along the lines my mom talking about seeing lights in the night sky and Mike wanting to storm Area 51 to drag out the alien bodies.

Thankfully lunch/dinner had to come to an end and none too soon, as black helicopters could be seen overtop Lonestar Steakhouse. I took one of the sheets of aluminum foil they left for my mom to wrap her leftovers and fashioned myself a hat, lest their mind control devices start to probe my skull. Instead we all climbed in the car and headed back to my place, to basically drop me off. The ride was pretty uneventful, at least until we got within a few blocks of my apartment. See, the way to Lonestar goes near where I used to work in radio, so the subject of my old job came up and it seemed innocent enough. What is happening there? I don't know. How many people still work for the station? Well since they consolidated jobs, it could be as few as none, everyone there now has to do the work of multiple people, my old station doesn't have a staff of its own. That was all fine and good, then it was well if Obama gets his way there will be a Fairness Doctrine. After just sitting through the bullshit that was lunch conversation I couldn't bare to now sit through right wing talking points, so I said “That is so fucking stupid, there has never even been a bill introduced for it.” When Mike started to argue with me about it I just said, “Listen, it is a dumb talking point for the likes of Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity to continue to get people to tune into their shows, it has no basis in fact, it is just fear to make sure the same sheeple that tuned in yesterday tune in today as well. The time one of those shows actually comes up with a good idea, it will be the first time, until then all they are doing is using fear to sell soap.” When Mike countered that they seem to be pretty successful I said, “Well, that says a lot more about their audience than it does about any factual information they may be peddling.” Yeah it was a parting is such sweet sorrow kind of conversation.

So they dropped me off, I came in and clicked on the TV and my spirits were picked up because hockey was on. While it wasn't a Pens game, I don't mind watching a good game that doesn't involve the home team, and I think I got one in a 5-4 overtime game where Philadelphia evened their series with Buffalo at 3-3 in a best of 7. Later on “Dead Like Me” came on, a show that isn't great but isn't half bad, so I can sit through it and sometimes even enjoy it. Then I hopped on the computer for a bit, not paying any mind to the TV until the gentle strains of “Celebrity Apprentice” started emanating from the idiot box. If that weren't bad enough, before I could get off my bed and change the channel (I was on the laptop on my bed), there was Donald Trump asking the B list of assclowns/ass kissers on the show if he should run for President. When they all said they would vote for him, he said good because if they didn't they would have been fired and they would be stupid not to do so. Because nothing says you would be qualified to be President like calling people stupid if they disagree with you. The fact that Trump hurls the third grade insult of stupid at anyone who isn't his supporter makes George Bush look like a fucking member of Mensa by comparison. And who thought I would ever work in George Bush and Mensa in the same sentence in this blog? What, you didn't? Well you're stupid. There, now I should run for President. The thought of me running for President would have Jesus turning over in his grave, that is if he weren't a Zombie Jesus and thereby not in need of a grave. But now that I think about it, Zombie Jesus might make a pretty good Halloween costume. Or at least a good punk band name.

Okay, I have spent enough of your time for one evening, besides the foil hat is starting to get itchy, so I am outtie, like a bellybutton.