It's Wiscpunk You Idiot
9.18.2007
letter to prison 09/18/07
Dear Bill,
Hey, buddy, I love the stuff you sent! In spite of what you think, I’m proud as hell of the belt and the holster. You’re right about the key fob - it’s odd looking - but I reckon I can handle that. I’m proud to have all that stuff. You do good work.
This past week or two has been rather eventful. I’ve had some major truck repairs. First it was my transmission, and that cost $1300. This past weekend the beast broke down half a dozen times on the way back from dad’s place on the river, and it felt like some kind of fuel problem. I’d had the filter in the tank replaced earlier this year, so I didn’t think that was the problem, but it still felt like a fuel issue. I took it to the shop, and they replaced a clogged in-line filter. Hell, I could’ve done that myself. I left the shop and got on the freeway, and it died again three times. I ended up unable to re-start it and stuck in the left turn lane of an intersection in Grand Prairie. I had it towed back to the shop. I’m a little annoyed that I’ll have to pony up the tow charge, but I’m assuming I’ll get stuck with it. The tow truck driver said he has an ‘89 Chevy truck that had identical problems, and that it ended up being the brain of the truck that was fried. I’m going to call the shop this morning and ask about that.
I just called the shop. They’re redneck as hell and reply in flat, monosyllabic utterances that make my gorge rise a bit, especially since I’m dropping some serious coin on them. I reckon that’s their job, however. I suppose I’ll know more about it by this afternoon. I’m going to be paying on this truck for a while, but I figure it’s still a better deal than going out and getting a new vehicle. I’m still trying to repair my credit and pay off old debts from my wilder days, so I’d be hard pressed to buy a new truck anyway. Mine is paid for and rarely gives me this kind of trouble. My insurance runs all of $35 per month, and the mileage isn’t so bad for a 3/4 ton pickup that is twenty years old.
My mother’s husband Jack passed away on Monday. I was about to eat Saturday evening when I got a call from her at Baylor in Irving. He had awoke from a nap with a stabbing pain behind his eye. She went in the other room and returned moments later to find him unresponsive. He never regained consciousness. He apparently had a massive hemorrhage in his brain stem and was more or less dead right away. They took him off life-support on Sunday and he stopped breathing early Monday morning. He was eighty-two and had been battling cancer most of this year. I figure the way he went was much preferable to what most of us probably have to look forward to. I was never particularly close to him, and this necessarily brings on some measure of family drama, but I still feel sorry for my mother and wonder how her life is going to change as a result of this. She seems to be in really good health at seventy-nine, and I don’t see any reason why she should change her living arrangements at all just yet. I’m not sure what her thoughts are on the matter, and I probably won’t ask. I’m not sure when the memorial service will be, but I assume it will be sometime this week, if only because his cousin flew down from Illinois. He’s being cremated, I think, so that takes some of the urgency out of it.
The other thing that’s been on my mind this last couple of weeks is my health. I was walking across a Wal-Mart in Hudson Oaks Friday night and experienced shortness of breath, pain in my chest and left arm and fatigue just walking from the front door to the auto parts section. I’ve had similar symptoms over the last few months, but it was pretty pronounced that night. I got a little frightened by it and decided to make some rather drastic changes. I have quit smoking for good. The sudden and forceful demonstration of my own frailty has made that rather a good deal easier than I’ve experienced in the past. I am doing my best to eliminate just about all the fat I can discover from my diet. Yesterday I had unsweetened oatmeal with sliced banana and an egg-white omelet for breakfast and then a Subway low-fat sandwich for lunch with water, and then watermelon for supper and nothing else. No more of my beloved kettle corn at the office. I checked it, and it’s loaded with trans-fats and shit. I’m also walking to work and back every day. My automotive difficulties have cooperated nicely in that regard.
I think that’s about it. Cody remains gone, and I miss him. He is not amenable to mending fences right now, and I respect his wishes, though I bitch at him a fair amount about it. I should give him his space for now and just carry on. I’ve always been a loner of a sort, and I can function well. I do whine a good deal, however.
I’ll holler at you again soon.
Yer faithful correspondent,
Hey, buddy, I love the stuff you sent! In spite of what you think, I’m proud as hell of the belt and the holster. You’re right about the key fob - it’s odd looking - but I reckon I can handle that. I’m proud to have all that stuff. You do good work.
This past week or two has been rather eventful. I’ve had some major truck repairs. First it was my transmission, and that cost $1300. This past weekend the beast broke down half a dozen times on the way back from dad’s place on the river, and it felt like some kind of fuel problem. I’d had the filter in the tank replaced earlier this year, so I didn’t think that was the problem, but it still felt like a fuel issue. I took it to the shop, and they replaced a clogged in-line filter. Hell, I could’ve done that myself. I left the shop and got on the freeway, and it died again three times. I ended up unable to re-start it and stuck in the left turn lane of an intersection in Grand Prairie. I had it towed back to the shop. I’m a little annoyed that I’ll have to pony up the tow charge, but I’m assuming I’ll get stuck with it. The tow truck driver said he has an ‘89 Chevy truck that had identical problems, and that it ended up being the brain of the truck that was fried. I’m going to call the shop this morning and ask about that.
I just called the shop. They’re redneck as hell and reply in flat, monosyllabic utterances that make my gorge rise a bit, especially since I’m dropping some serious coin on them. I reckon that’s their job, however. I suppose I’ll know more about it by this afternoon. I’m going to be paying on this truck for a while, but I figure it’s still a better deal than going out and getting a new vehicle. I’m still trying to repair my credit and pay off old debts from my wilder days, so I’d be hard pressed to buy a new truck anyway. Mine is paid for and rarely gives me this kind of trouble. My insurance runs all of $35 per month, and the mileage isn’t so bad for a 3/4 ton pickup that is twenty years old.
My mother’s husband Jack passed away on Monday. I was about to eat Saturday evening when I got a call from her at Baylor in Irving. He had awoke from a nap with a stabbing pain behind his eye. She went in the other room and returned moments later to find him unresponsive. He never regained consciousness. He apparently had a massive hemorrhage in his brain stem and was more or less dead right away. They took him off life-support on Sunday and he stopped breathing early Monday morning. He was eighty-two and had been battling cancer most of this year. I figure the way he went was much preferable to what most of us probably have to look forward to. I was never particularly close to him, and this necessarily brings on some measure of family drama, but I still feel sorry for my mother and wonder how her life is going to change as a result of this. She seems to be in really good health at seventy-nine, and I don’t see any reason why she should change her living arrangements at all just yet. I’m not sure what her thoughts are on the matter, and I probably won’t ask. I’m not sure when the memorial service will be, but I assume it will be sometime this week, if only because his cousin flew down from Illinois. He’s being cremated, I think, so that takes some of the urgency out of it.
The other thing that’s been on my mind this last couple of weeks is my health. I was walking across a Wal-Mart in Hudson Oaks Friday night and experienced shortness of breath, pain in my chest and left arm and fatigue just walking from the front door to the auto parts section. I’ve had similar symptoms over the last few months, but it was pretty pronounced that night. I got a little frightened by it and decided to make some rather drastic changes. I have quit smoking for good. The sudden and forceful demonstration of my own frailty has made that rather a good deal easier than I’ve experienced in the past. I am doing my best to eliminate just about all the fat I can discover from my diet. Yesterday I had unsweetened oatmeal with sliced banana and an egg-white omelet for breakfast and then a Subway low-fat sandwich for lunch with water, and then watermelon for supper and nothing else. No more of my beloved kettle corn at the office. I checked it, and it’s loaded with trans-fats and shit. I’m also walking to work and back every day. My automotive difficulties have cooperated nicely in that regard.
I think that’s about it. Cody remains gone, and I miss him. He is not amenable to mending fences right now, and I respect his wishes, though I bitch at him a fair amount about it. I should give him his space for now and just carry on. I’ve always been a loner of a sort, and I can function well. I do whine a good deal, however.
I’ll holler at you again soon.
Yer faithful correspondent,
posted by Mugtoe at 16:25
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home