Share a house with in-laws and die a 1000 deaths

This is a tale of a castaway, been here for a long, long time; and the tale of how two men tolerated each other because of some unrelated reason. For me it was sex with his daughter--not much else. For him, it was fear of his wife and daughter and a sense that he knows, like any sensible man knows, the difference between right and wrong and nobody better question that inborn Russian programming. Everyone, including his closest relatives will tell you I have Ace figured out to a tee. Now, at 57 years of age, I've taken all the shit that I can take.

Ace, as we all do, has many human frailties but only two have irked me to any great extent: one, he is the sole arbiter of what should be thrown out without consulting with the owner; and, two, he's a scam artist of the highest echelons of deceit. He's thrown out many valuable items that belonged to me but, if it's a doll belonging to his daughter, that doll stays put.

So it was that my son came to look for the Weber grill I had salvaged from the trash at some apartment building where I was a kind of concierge. Ace, as it turns out, had thrown it out because it was "broke." Seems a wheel had popped out and it looked broke.

I took a Weber cover that I had bought and threw it near him saying, "Here's a new cover for that Weber you threw out."
"What barbecue grill?," he asked, buying time. When he couldn't come up with a suitable lie, he admitted that he threw it out on account of its condition. I told him it was my property and he should have asked. In short, he ended up calling me a dead beat and I pointed out the major financial points involving his daughter's insane doll acquisitions and his below-market rent. My mother-in-law unsuccessfully tried to subdue the discussion.

I'll not defend myself against deadbeat charges except to tell you what his own daughter said to me: "Oh, I see you and Grandpa had a fight. Don't worry about it, he calls everyone names. He called Maggie (our daughter) a slut." My wife keeps the peace, I think, because she knows that there is nothing keeping me from seeing a lawyer, and pocketing big bucks after the sale of the house and half her dolls. I told her things would be quite different from now on. I think I'll start by tacking 95 theses on our refrigerator.

The moral of the story is this: Life is too short to take shit from your in-laws no matter what they think they do for the extended family. Second moral, if you share a house with your in-laws you will die a thousand deaths.

The end of Love

I am 57. It recently occurred to me that I was at the end of my rope when it came to sexual attractiveness. Lately, I've been ignoring pretty faces I meet randomly in public. I'm hoping that I'll be able to accomplish more in life without daydreaming about that pretty female that used to capture my attention not too long ago. I know, it's sour grapes. I agree. But to tell you the truth, what else is there? I know that even if a Kathryn Hepburn came along (she had an Electra complex), I would not know how to proceed. Basically, what I'm saying is that my needs today are for money sufficient enough to hire Governor Spitzer's ex-girlfriend--to bad I can't barter with her.

The love takes a dive

Well, here I am at 57. I can't remember the last time the female thrilled me. In retrospect, I, as any thinking man, would have opted for no sex. Sure, it's great but it's no more than a biological switch that ensures the procreation of the species. If sex were not a beautiful sensual thing, would we want it? If it didn't tickle some unseen underarm, would it still control our every being?

The answer is easy. We don't need it. It's just a recreational drug. What can man do without it? Plenty! To obviate that addiction is to devote an extra decade or two to anything more worthwhile.