My Deadbeat Friend Asked for an Update

My freind Adam worked for the provincial government. They had a program wherein Adam contributed a portion of his salary over time to some reserve fund or some junk and was then entitled to take a year leave with pay to do sweet bugger-all. In fact, his then date also committed to the same program with the province. As a result, they have been travelling the world for the past year without care or consequence. They actually got engaged in South Africa (presumably with a blood diamond).

A while back, nearing the end of our cold, hard winter, Adam inquired as to how I was doing. I provided the following reply. For a bit of context, our other friend recently bought a bar in Whitehorse, YT, we have another friend who runs a practice in rural Alberta, and on one occasion, I did stay in the worst condemned hotel that Whitehorse had to offer, which did result in a bloody injury from all the smashed glass littering the hallway. I lead a charmed life.

Dear Adam:

For starters, they changed the unlock code on the doors in our hallway today. You can imagine the confusion and disorientation that has resulted. I couldn't even tell you what the old code was - it was just a pattern etched in my muscle memory. And it's so hard to change. I've run my shoulder clean into the door at a high rate of force no fewer than four times today. Doors are hard, as is change.

As you may or may not know, I have two (2) children by the names of Hudson and Hugo, in order of birth from first to last. Hudson, whom I call Hudder, is a thoughtful, inquisitive but unsettled fellow who enjoys staying awake, not eating and sticking things in slots and holes. He also enjoys tractors, diggers, trucks, hockey and dancing. He recently discovered that the syringe we use to administer Advil will also extract his pee from the potty and once rendered him the most powerful boy with a pee-filled syringe. He also likes nipples. He is a curious fellow.

Hugo, whom I call Not (short for Huguenot - an ode to 16th century French protestants), is a very good looking baby who has recently acquired crawling as a form of transportation. He enjoys eating as much as I do, and boob. He has sprouted six teeth which he uses to eat ribs, pork chops and bacon between suckling at the teat. He has significant cellulite on his bum, perhaps as a result of his consumption. He also enjoys knocking things over and trying to eat my glasses.

My hope is that one day, after wallowing in the seas of uncertainty and introspection, my two boys will purchase a bar in Whitehorse, YT or a law practice in rural Alberta. I sure's hell hope they don't go to work for a mid-sized law firm in a mid-sized prairie city, because as far as I can tell, that's a one-way ticket to mediocrity, inflammation and a chronic shortage of funds.

I also have a wife named Maeghan who continues to look as if she's fostered no children. However, she doesn't currently earn any income beyond the standard EI benefits our system pays to mothers on leave. But our long hard winter with two gnomes drove her to such depths by the start of February, that she arranged to look at bigger houses with a realtor in such suburbs as Stonebridge and Rosewood and other such non-descript dirt holes. We quickly realized they were awful, and committed, instead, to spending the money we didn't have on finishing our basement. And like all good debtor-creditor lawyers do, I hired a contractor on a handshake and prayer. Two months over-time and about $8,000.00 over budget, we've got the funkiest f*cking basement this side of Taylor Street.... just in time for the out-of-doors season. Oh well. We'll have winter again. But seriously - my wife designed a cool f*cking basement. But there were some initial issues. The morning  after "opening" the basement, we found the bathroom vanity lying on the floor - it had fallen clean off the wall. They came and fixed that. Then, a few days later, the shelving and hanging rod in the closet collapsed and punched holes through the drywall. They came and fixed that too. I just hope the ceiling doesn't collapse. We got a really good deal though, so that's good. Written contracts are for sissies.

Anyway, the long and short is that we're poor in money, but rich in basements and guys. We also have the following items for sale, which might interest you: two bookshelves of middling quality but good condition, a Queen size box-spring and bed frame, a heavy-duty wall mount (with swivel) for a 40" to 52" television, a Technics keyboard from 1991 that my brother originally paid $1,200.00 for - it has a midi port which was kind of a big deal for 1991... it also has cool-ass sound effects. Should anyone be interested in these items, we'd be pleased to offer you a significant discount off the FMV.

But we've got lots of grandparents who love our children, so they help carry the load. I already fell asleep twice this week putting Hudder to bed - we're just so tired all the time. So it's nice when someone else takes our children - we do fun things, like nap and clean. It's odd though - Marcel was such an angry man for so many years, and now he does whatever his grandchildren ask of him and he just doesn't seem angry at all. Hudder regularly demands rides in the John Deere Tractor and I suspect Hudder is going to break the farm with the fuel consumption from driving in circles. And the escalating battles between the grandparents for grandchild satisfaction will, eventually, have disastrous results - Hudon's going to have his own Sherman tank by the time he's six (6). Papa Dubois will probably arrange for him to hunt a hobo at some stage.

Anyway, I'm pretty much the same as ever except less drunk, more tired and a little confused about everything. But it's fine I think. I do have a pretty good family and I have to say that having some little guys around is fascinating... they are weird creatures. I'm just so f*cking tired all the time. I just really want a nap.

But good work on the engagement... I mean, you might just as well, all things considered and whatnot. If you two are still generally enjoying each other's company at this stage, that's a pretty good sign. Maybe you could have a Whitehorse Wedding and we could all go up there. I know a shitty, haunted hotel up there that probably still has some of our blood in the carpet.

I've attached some photos for your reference.

1. Two guys.

2. A picture coloured by someone in our family.

3. The vanity that fell.

4. My water meter reading.

5. Jan (of our law class) and her dad at her dad's pant factory in Moose Jaw.*

If you have nothing to do between August and the new year, you are welcome to spend some time in our basement. It has a murphy bed, very soft carpet, a two-person steam shower and a projector for a TV. We could probably use a tenant with some money anyway.

Don't get arrested,

DJD

* Jan and I ran a full QB trial in Moose Jaw about a month ago. Her dad owns an honest-to-god pant factory. They make only men's pants and shorts for HBC, Mark's and other large retailers. Unlike Bangladesh factories, Canaday's Apparel has never collapsed nor burned. When we concluded our trial I bought some pants at a very deep discount. If you need pants, shoot me an email - I can hook you up. I even got a very nice pleated navy dress short.