Thursday, December 01, 2005

The Silver Fox

In previous entries, I've mentioned the fact that I have a sister whom I haven't spoken to in three years. Prior to that, I hadn't spoken to her in four years. As with all crazy family drama, it's a long story. But to save blog space, bandwidth and to keep your attention, I'll give you the Reader's Digest version:

I am the youngest of three girls, each 4 1/2 years apart.
Growing up, I was closest to my middle sister because my oldest sister Loretta was a "goody two shoes". (Now she and I are very close)
When my middle sister ("C") was 18, she became involved with her much older boss who was not just married with five kids, but a kinky alcoholic chain-smoking abusive asshole.
For the first few years, she told me all the details of their bizarro relationship.
Once he figured out that I was telling her to get the hell out, he would find ways to alienate me.
Now don't get me wrong...she's a bitch in her own right. When Emma was 3 and I was out of work, I asked to borrow some money (a bridge loan until my condo was sold) and she told me to go on welfare or get food stamps. She's a high powered real estate broker, he was a partner in a huge accounting firm. They are not hurting for cash.
Anyway...after an eight year affair he married her. And, in the classic abuser style, he managed to isolate her from friends and family.
Now she's 54, he's 72...and I giggle to myself every time I remember how she used to lovingly call him "The Silver Fox", as he was prematurely grey. Now he just looks like a less-healthy Ted Kennedy. It's kind of amazing that he's still alive. We saw them this past weekend at my aunt's 80th birthday party and exchanged a few brief civil words before they bolted.

While showering the other day, I composed a little ditty in their honor ... to the tune of The Beverly Hillbillies theme:
(L-B refers to Long Beach Island, where they own a house)

"Come and listen to my story 'bout a girl named C
A poor skinny thing not much taller than my knee...
And then one day she went searching for a dude
When up from the ground came a'one that was crude...

Jack, that is... kinda old, drunk by three

Well the first thing you know ol' Jack's pulling C's hair
The kinfolk said, "C, get away from there"
They said "Cheezy porn mags ain't the place you wanna be!"
But they loaded up their booze and they moved to L-B...

Island that is... jellyfish....tittie bars...

Well now its time to say goodbye to ol' C and all Jack's kin
For they will never thank you folks for ever droppin' in
You'll never be invited back to this locality
And don't expect a helpin' of no hospitality...

[Last names here] that is... Go to hell... Drop the booze off...

Y'all get lost now, y'hear? "