....Bedtime Story 2012....continued

"Finish the story, grandpa," squealed l'il Olga jr.

"Story....story....story," shouted Charlie-Vee jr. at the top of his lungs.

"O.K." I said At the same time wondering why Ruby Vonnie the III, the last of my grandkids, hadn't spoken up as well.

I soon noticed why. Charlie-Vee jr. had his paws directly on Ruby's mouth.

"Well, where was I? Let's see. I remember. It was bleak on The Pond, and we were facing dire consequences. We were gonna have to sell the house we had known intimately for 15 years. Your grandpa, as chronicled earlier, had been fired by a big tub of goo named Schwim."

"What's kwanicled, grandpa?" l'il Olga jr. cooed.

"That's when you repeat yourself over and over. And when you're my age it happens a lot. Because you keep telling the same stories to the same people like it's for the first time. Sometimes the recipient is polite and listens as if they've never heard it before, but some are mean and let you know it's the one-hundreth time you've repeated it."

"A sign of seniorshitizenshitdumb, huh, grandpa?" said l'il Olga jr. beaming with pride.

"Right, you are. Schwim had fired me, and I couldn't find a job. The market place had changed since I was a young whiskersnapper. Older people in their fifties-and remember I had just turned 55-weren't viewed by Corporate America as being a good fit for their company. Because we were set in our ways; we were health risks; but- and most importantly-we made too much money. Companies wanted to hire younger folks so they could pay them less."

"Greedy bastards," Ruby Vonnie III spoke up, only after wrestling back control of her mouth.

"Right, you are, l'il Ruby. Loyalty to a company went the way of drive-in movies, vinyl records, VHS, Culture Club, and Mom's apple pie."

( Chorus of confused looks from the kids ) Charlie-Vee jr. started to ask his grandpa to explain all the things he had just mentioned, but, because he didn't want him to go into a rant-and realizing they must all be something that were once mainstream at some point during his grandpa's life- he decided to let it pass. Plus, he wanted to find out what happened to The Pond.

However, l'il Olga jr., had to ask: "What's a Culture Club, grandpa?"

Dismayed at this question and not quite ready for a reply, I stammered out with:

"A Culture Club is where you dress-up like on Halloween. Yea, Halloween. And you wear your hair long. And the members of the club are well, er, uh....androgynous."

"What's...."

Grandma Kitty walks into the room interrupting the kids' question to the relief of yours truly.

"Vee, you just got a call from your sister, Olga. I tried to get you to the phone, but Olga said she was late for her 'Save the Sardines' lecture at Berkely. I told her you would call her later."

"Thanks, Kitty," I said.

Kitty continued: "Are you kids enjoying your Grandpa's story?"

( chorus of smiling faces ) "Yes, m'am. We looove them."

"You'll have to wrap it up soon, Grandpa Vee, unless, of course, you want to miss "The Monster That Devoured Cleveland" on TMC. It starts at 10:00."

"Save the Sardines? Last week it was her 'Ban Scallions Forever' Crusade. You got to love your Aunt Olga's spunk."

"I admire her spunk, too, Vee. But last week, it was 'Dolphins and Whales Are Humans, Too!' Her green onion foray was right before Thanksgiving. Remember you said the T.G. prayer and asked God to eradicate them from the face of the world?" said Kitty.

"Yes, I remember like it was yesterday: 'God, Scallions are bad; e coli is bad. Bless the food business industries, especially the Taco Bells. Amen.'

And bless my sister. She's always got a cause. Remember that flat pyramid she gave me in the 70's. Used to keep it in my wallet. Supposed to give you energy and all that. Seems the Egyptians knew about the power of the pyramids. Way ahead of their time. Just like Olga," I said as Kitty left the room.

"Finish the story, Grandpa," l'il Olga purred, while thinking of her namesake. Ruby Vonnie III and Charlie-Vee jr. nodded their heads in approval.

"Well, like I chronicled earlier, it was bleak on The Pond. No money coming in except for my social security check and Grandma Kitty's paycheck, and some generous contributions from the family. So it looked like we'd have to sell the house. But we would need a place to stay. First I called Uncle Hoots, but he politely declined. Declaring he had had to put out ye olde 'No Vacancy' sign when his daughter and her dog came back to the nest.

Uncle BBQ, who lives in Florida, couldn't guarantee our safety from hurricanes, tsunamis, and the eventual loss of the 'Sunshine State' altogether, so he had to decline politely as well.

Uncle Slippery had just changed jobs, adjusting to his passive-aggressive boss, so I didn't even bother to ask him. So...."

Grandma Kitty reenters the room panting and somewhat hysterical: "Vee, Olga's got into it with a Sardine lobbyist. She and 100 of her friends have been arrested and packed into a Paddy Wagon. It's all over the news. Even FOX is covering it. Even a quote from Rupert Murdock."

"This is awful! Kids, I may have to fly out to San Francisco and rescue your great auntie," I said, a tear or two in my eyes.

"But Grandpa, the story....,"

"I'll continue it when I return."

"I'll help you pack," Kitty volunteers.

"Thanks. Now where is my 'Global Warming, Shmobal Warming' jacket," I mumbled, still in a fog from the news.

"You can't wear that jacket to San Francisco. Here, wear this one. Last year's Christmas gift from Olga," Kitty replied....

I arrived at the airport and headed to the ticket counter.

"One ticket to San Francisco. Round trip. Have a good flight, sir. What an unusual, er, uh, jacket."

"Thanks," I muttered something under my breath.

"I Love Whales, Dolphins, and Sardines, But I Haight Scallions and George Bush," were the words on my jacket. It would make me the subject of ridicule, until I reached the city by the bay....