Stone Life

*******Let me go ahead and give a WARNING here. I realize that many of you (I suppose 'many' is a pretty subjective term, because it can mean, in this case, the majority of a small audience) are good-hearted, non-cynics, and this post may not be for you, though it is not a bad as some others have been*******


Thanks to the overacting smugness of Russell Crowe in the early 00's, I found out what a 'proof of life' is. Since I trust anything that is broadcast through electric visual media (have they given us any reason not to....need I remind you of The Passion of the Christ...see, they're all Christians), I KNOW that a proof of life is what those paying a ransom demand in order to prove their kidnapped associate is still alive and that money therefore needs to be paid. It also has something to do with a Roman soldier and a schizophrenic mathematician, but I think those were only minor points.

Why the sudden interest in a movie that I have not seen in several years? - I experienced something very similar yesterday, and I wanted to scoreboard my brother and sister in the process. Yesterday, via phoneline, I was given definitive proof that Dorothy Stone (aka: Grandma) still exists.

The conversation, if you can call it that, went something like this:

*******Sidenote: I archive this conversation, not only for the edification of the reading public, but also as some sort of historical document. I have not spoken with this woman this century, nor do I anticipate any of us will ever, in some sort of Saschwatch/Elvis mysterious sightings-sense, track her down again, so, like the recording of Neil Armstrong's steps on the moon, a once in a lifetime experience, I render to you my first conversation with 'Grandma' since childhood.

*******In the spirit of Russell Crowe, there might be slight embellishments for dramatic effect.


Dad: "Do you want to talk to Grandma?"

Me: "Who's that?" - (ok, I wasn't that rude) "I don't care....not really....what would I say to her....probably better that I don't...."

Dad: "Ok, here she is."

Me: "Dad!, did you not hear...Hi, Grandma."

Elvis: "Hi, Marshall...um, Mitchell...oh, Mandible...Grandson!"

Me: "How have the 90's and 00's been treating you?"

Jimmy Hoffa: "We are good, I don't think I would have recognized your voice."

Me: "Ha, ha... (awkward silence....getting worse....the laughter is fading....what do I do?!)

Loch Ness: "I guess you probably wouldn't have recognized mine either....ha, ha"

Me: "Ha, ha....(trailing off....almost ready to feint phone static to end this)"

(imagine giggles and stutters so palpable and thick that I am literally swatting uncomfortableness out of the air like mosquitoes)

Me: "I was hoping we might reconnect....maybe this conversation could be the bridge that reunites our side of the family...we are, after all, family, and isn't that more important than any grudges of misunderstandings that may have arisen over the years. We lov..."

George Bush's Credibility: "...Good to talk to you too.....ha, ha.....here's your dad...bye, now."

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So let's recap the scores for the past decade or so:

Abbey: 0

Jim: -800....drum-stealing bastard.

Michael: 1 - winner and new champion!