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Remember Gemco? I loved that store. |
Tex has always been the thriftiest person I know. He has every cottage cheese carton he's ever used since 1998 stacked up on a side counter in the kitchen and every baggie tie from every produce bag he's brought home from the grocery store, along with the bags. He bought the plaid shirt and brown polyester leisure bell bottom pants he wears on sale at Gemco back in the 80's. The shirt is threadbare but usable so why buy a new one? When a hole breaks through he brings it to me and asks me to patch it. And polyester, as we all know, never wears out. Thousands of years from now when archeologists are digging through the dirt heap that used to be Grampy's trailer park they'll find his polyester pants still intact...and maybe his 12 mayonnaise jars full of root beer barrels.
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Grampy's Mailbox |
For some reason he is compelled to save every receipt he's ever gotten as well. His kitchen table is covered with organized stacks of receipts, letters, newspaper clippings, and coupons galore. His living room floor is as big as a postage stamp and is stacked with piles of junk mail he receives along with the tchotkes they enclose—plastic indian bead bracelets, greeting cards (that promise 12 novenas are being said in your name), calendars, calorie counter slide guides, bookmarks ad nauseum and Easter/Christmas Seals. The mailman's arrival every day is cause for excitement. One time he got a lap blanket screenprinted with advertising for the Disabled Veterans. That was a good day. He organizes the piles and meticulously keeps track of everything....then he picks out anything with kittens and puppies on them and tries to give them to me. Well I could use the 12 novenas, truth be told but calendars and scratch pads, I'm already up to my eyeballs in. After the January 2011 avalanche of the free calendars he was sorely disappointed I only needed two calendars and sternly told me he'd have to walk up and down in his trailer park and knock on doors, and try to give them away. “Is that a threat old man cause I really don't care what your crazy neighbors think of you.” It is slowly engulfing his living room but the thrifty side to him cannot throw it away. It is his holy mission to waste not, want not and to make sure his junk mail ends up in happy homes.
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This is the one I bought, used twice then sold in a yard sale. |
Watching him at his task one day, I pondered out loud why on earth he gets so much mail—“I don't know but I wish to hell it would stop” he grumbled. Then it hit me “Dad, do you send them back money in the envelopes they enclose?” “Well yeah ...” he admitted. “not much...and they DO send me all these gifts.” So I reminded him of what P.T. Barnum said “There's a sucker born every minute”. He said he'd never read THAT book of the Bible and where the hell did I get off calling him a sucker when I'm the one that bought the RonCo Showtime Rotesserie Oven back in 1998.” He had a point there so I took my 2 Scenic America 2011 Calendars, 4 packs of Kute Kittens greeting cards as well as my flourescent, glow in the dark rosary, kissed him on the cheek and left. As I walked outside to my car I could hear him shouting at the TV “Miss Kitty you CAN'T help that idiot Chester out anymore. He's gotta help himself!” Ah Dad....words to live by. Words to live by.
Well, Grampy and I do have one thing in common... I do love me a good rootbeer barrel! You are a good daughter-in-law, Cathy... the best, actually! Grampy is blessed to have you, even if he doesn't realize it.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Jayme
When the world goes to hell, Grampy will be sittin' pretty in his polyester pants, sucking on rootbeer barrels. Then he'll get the last laugh for sure!
ReplyDeleteWe could all learn something from GRAMPY. We should be happy with the minimum. I'm glad you take such good care of Him, Cathy!
ReplyDelete