Death and Donuts
A few months after Meredith was born, Jeff and I often packed her up in the stroller and walked around the neighborhood. During one of our walks, we met one of our neighbors. For the sake of the story, I'll call him Bob. (Because that's really his name.) Bob approached us with a cast on one hand and a pair of hedge clippers in the other. He fumbled with the clippers a bit so he could shake Jeff's hand.
During our conversation, he told us that although he was happy to see young couples moving into the neighborhood, it was also a bit bittersweet for him. He was one of the first people to move into the subdivision when it was created nearly 50 years ago. He told us that he has seen babies born here, and he has watched those babies go away to college, get married, and have babies of their own. Half jokingly, he said something like, "Now, when a young couple shows up, it means that somebody has either moved into a facility or died out."
Fast forward nearly four years to yesterday--St. Underpants Day.
As Meredith and I cleaned antique fries from the floor of our car, we were approached by a lippy guy who wanted to sell us $350 worth of frozen meat from the back of his truck.
I lied and told him that we're vegetarian.
Meaty guy: Well, are you vegan? You eat chicken and fish, right?
Me: Are you going to keep spitting out crap until I let you show me your meat?
Meaty guy: $350 worth of fish, and I'll sell it to you for $149!
He showed me his fish. And you can't tell me that a box of 20 tilapia fillets are worth $80, because I know better.
I smiled and lied and told him that we're bankrupt.
He finally got the hint and left.
Shortly after his departure, our Across the Street Neighbor Guy came over and told us that Bob (that guy I talked about in paragraphs 1 and 2) had collapsed and died at the Blues hockey game on Tuesday.
And I'm a bit shocked by this.
Healthy guy in his 70s, always climbing trees, chopping wood, planting flowers, or hanging Christmas tree lights (when seasonally appropriate, of course), and on Tuesday he and his wife went to a hockey game, he DIED, and she came back home without him.
I can't even imagine what has gone through her mind this week.
I believe I'm going to pack a bottle of baby aspirin into my bag. Seriously. You Never Know.
On a lighter yet semi-related note, on Friday night (before we knew about Bob), Jeff and I briefly tuned in for a ridiculous movie starring Ben Affleck and Liv Tyler. During the five minutes we watched, we learned that Ben's wife had died during childbirth seven years ago, and after meeting for coffee, he decided to forgo his abstinence and shower naked with Liv Tyler the Strumpet Grad Student/Video Store Employee.
Me: Ok. I'm dead and seven years have passed. Would you bed Liv Tyler?
Jeff: No way.
Me: Really. I'm extinct. And she's digging you.
Jeff: No. She's really not that cute.
Me: She's a hell of a lot cuter than me. I'm dead. After seven years, I doubt I even have skin.
Jeff: If you die, I will not have sex with Liv Tyler.
(We've had similar conversations about several characters from Dawson's Creek. According to Jeff, he would not bed any of them, despite my death.)
Oh! Wait! St. Underpants Day! Meredith is currently going through a phase (I hope), in which she is a bit pissed if it is not somebody's birthday. (No birthday = No cake.)
So, if I don't know anyone who was born on a particular day, we've been making up holidays of our own. This means that the possibility of celebratory cake always looms in our house.
Yesterday morning, Meredith put her underpants on her head, a crazy grin on her face, and yelled, "Happy St. Underpants Day!!!!"
And then we celebrated by heading out for coffee and donuts.
Happy Belated St. Underpants Day to you.
Submitted by
jen
at 3/25/2007 11:05:38 PM- So sorry to hear about Bob. And I echo the aspirin comments. A friend of mine had a stroke when she was 35. They [the doctors at the ER] didn't figure it out very early though, and she is still living with a lot of struggles.
Submitted by
juliloquy
at 3/26/2007 10:27:18 AM- I am also very sorry about Bob. It's great that you're in touch with a lot of your neighbors.
And St. Underpants Day - now THAT is a holiday I can really get behind. Get behind - get it? ahahahahahah! I'm sorry I missed it, but I will mark the day for a donuty celebration next year. Must one wear underpants on the head for the entire day?
Jeff is crazy. If my husband were to die and it's seven years later, I would not think twice before hopping into bed with Liv Tyler.
Submitted by
reb
at 3/26/2007 11:00:12 AM- Sorry about Bob.
Today's my birthday, btu you can tell Meredith I'm totally willing to share any cake I have left.
Submitted by
Sara
at 3/26/2007 11:35:42 AM- Ha! Happy St. Underpants Day to you from me, too, especially since, if I read this correctly, St. Underpants Day really is my birthday. (March 24, right? Good.)
It's also Harry Houdini's. And William Morris's. And Steve McQueen's.
I think all those guys wore underpants. I know I do.
Submitted by
OMSH
at 3/26/2007 12:35:58 PM- YEA! St. Underpants Day! Time for margaritas ... er ... I mean cake.
About the neighbor ... that truly is sad. I watched Premonition last night and the whole while I was thinking, "What would I do if I lost Jeff?" And I couldn't stop crying, because WHAT WOULD I DO? Loneliness would overtake every square inch (and inchelette) of my body.
Baby bottle of aspirin. Check.
Submitted by
whoorl
at 3/26/2007 1:26:45 PM- I was just accosted by lippy frozen meat guy yesterday. Pull the blinds- those guys are frightening!
Submitted by
BOSSY
at 3/26/2007 2:23:27 PM- If Bossy were, um, "removed", Bossy's husband would wait about thirty minutes before making a play for Liv Tyler. Twenty minutes to shower and ten to shave and brush his teeth.
Submitted by
BikerTigger
at 3/26/2007 6:08:34 PM- I am so going to use the Liv Tyler conversation in my next blog, with permission of course.
Submitted by
MamaPajama
at 3/26/2007 7:27:33 PM- St. Underpants Day. Sounds like a perfectly reasonable holiday to me. I will add to my calender to celebrate with niece and nephew next week, or the next time we meet. It is a floating holiday, isn't it?
Submitted by
robin
at 3/27/2007 9:31:02 AM- It's Owen's mama's birthday today!
Strip those underpants off her head, and drive to Florida for some cake!
Submitted by
jen
at 3/27/2007 10:03:58 AM- Sad news about Bob.
On a happier note, especially for Meredith, it's my birthday today. Seriously.
Cake for everyone!
Submitted by
Kellyr2
at 3/27/2007 4:30:51 PM- What is with the people who think vegetarians only shun beef? What part of "vege" makes them think, "chicken and fish?" Sorry, the rant of the wife of a vegetarian.
I have to go now. We're having shrimp and cookies in honor of St Underpants Day.
Submitted by
FP
at 3/27/2007 7:24:57 PM- juliloquy and MamaPajama--The beauty of St. Underpants Day is that there are absolutely no rules. You can wear the underpants on your head for a few seconds, or for an entire week. AND, every day can be St. Underpants Day!
Reb, Sara, Robin, and Jen--Happy Birthday to you guys! I hope you had lots of cake and underpants!
Kellyr2--I'll never forget when I asked for a vegetarian option while riding a plane for London. The airline hostess told me that the meal WAS vegetarian. Chicken salad with bacon.
Submitted by
kilowatthour
at 3/28/2007 2:26:57 PM- i find myself wondering exactly how st. underpants was martyred. i mean, he (or she) had to have been martyred, right? i hope there were lions involved; all the best martyrings involve lions.
No joke on the baby aspirin - my friend and collegue had a stroke at 42 this past summer. Luckily, his wife pumped him full of the stuff while waiting for the ambulance. He's doing well.
Related note: recently lovely friend of lovely s-i-l had a heart attack. She's in her early 40's as well.
I do carry the stuff in my purse..you never know.
My condolences to Mrs. Bob.