Girls Without Shoes

October 25, 2009

Thar’s a Junk Car Out Thar ……….

Filed under: Humor,non-fiction,short pieces,Uncategorized — girlswithoutshoes @ 4:58 am
Tags: , , , , ,

Oh no, there is now a junk car out in front of my house.  It is my Husband’s car.  Will this madness never end?  He once had a ’69 Mustang Mach- 1 about  30 years ago that he did not or could not fix.  It sat and it sat and it sat at his parents’ house.  One day to appease his Dad, he moved it out to his Sister’s house in the country where  it sat, and sat, and sat.  From time to time somebody would spot it and stop and ask if it was for sale, but no it was not for sale.  This used to drive me nuts.  Actually, still does.

The Mustang sat for about 5 years before he sold it along with the  bee’s nests etc. inside.  He got very little money for it.  I never understood the neglect and stubbornness in this regard and am  still not sure I do.

After years of frustration and brain paining thoughts on the subject, the only thing  I could figure out was/is:

  • No. 1,  my Husband is the biggest procrastinator I have ever met.
  • No. 2 ,my Husband will not admit when he does not know how to fix something.  It must be a man thing.
  • No. 3 , my Husband will let something sit and rot before getting rid of it.   He loved that car so much that he would rather see  it sit            there and rot before selling it to someone.

What bizarre behavior in this man beast, that I again, love-hate.    Now, if duct tape could have been used to fix that car, I am sure you would have witnessed the first ever duct-tape covered 1969 Mustang Mach 1 with a 351 engine strapped or wired  to it’s underbelly rumbling down the streets.

He loved this car so much that he never got over it.  He still looks at Mustangs to this day,  which really pisses me off.

He actually did buy a second one  later on, a sleek beauty from 1972 and  I thought,  he has  nerve.  I told him, “Don’t let this one sit and rot please.”

He has never listened to me a day in his life and wasn’t about to start now.  Of course, he hot rodded it around town, thinking he was a cool  40 year old guy,  listening to cassette tapes so loud it was embarrassing.  I hated the second Mustang.  To me it represented his “mid-life”  crisis. I envisioned him with his ears laid back as he drove maddening speeds with maddeningly loud rock and roll that was a little after “our time”, hoping some cute chicks would not be able to resist his savoir faire .

We needed a family car, our children were still at home then, and he gets another hot rod.  For Pete’s Sake.

Well, it didn’t get any better.  The car went to his head.  He became that car as he went on a spree, an 8 month runner of partying with his buddies, doing God knows what.  I had made him leave after the first month of this crap, needless to say.

After 8 months, he talked me into letting him come back home.  Actually, he just came over and wouldn’t leave.  He is still here and it is 15 years later.

The junk car that is sitting in front of our house is not a Mustang, nor anything lovely.  It is just an old family car that is no longer worth keeping.  We will sell it for $50.00 to a young guy who has been “jonesin'” for it.  The young man will have a party with his buddies and beat the car up and run it over with trucks with huge tires, so he is excited about it.

Maybe if I throw in an extra $50.00 I can talk him into taking the Hubby for a ride too.



October 14, 2009

“The Beat Goes On………”

Filed under: Uncategorized — girlswithoutshoes @ 4:24 am

Yeah, yeah I know I’m stealing Sonny and Cher’s words, maybe I should say, meanwhile back at the Dude Ranch, but that is stealing from someone else, uh, can’t say I know who.

I have me orders to write even if it is a little tiny paragraph.  Loving thanks to you who encourage me and don’t let me give up.  You all know who you are……….

My last writing was more in the form of an “outburst” as one friend put it.  So true.  Let’s see I was threatening to throw my S.O.B. husband over the bridge as I remember and maybe follow him.  But I have not.  Might be easier if I did, but I have not.  Not only have I not done so, but won’t.  Hell I won’t even go so far as to throw him out.

I have accepted over the years, that I made my choice in staying with him and we are growing old together.  Sometimes together, sometimes not so “together”.  Things are shaky these days.

I find myself the “sole bread-winner”  in the household, while his union fights for his job.  I am not sure that he deserves it back.   But by golly, he gave it the best shot any drug addict ever did.  He poured his heart and soul in that damned job while pouring drugs down his throat, and up his nose  with straws and little glass pipes.    He stole from his job, pawned their equipment, and cleaned up their crap doing a fine job of it along the way. Yes, he was a great worker, excellent in his field.  In his mind that probably overshadows any wrong doing.

He has detoxed by himself, on his own and is over the illness part of it.  But it is not over.  Yesterday he felt sorry for himself, said he could “bite a nail”.  He felt sorry for the loss of chance with his son and his grandson.  I really don’t know what he expected.  What should one expect?  I am not sure where the idea of no consequences was born to him, if it is just him or all addicts.

I do know that right now, the goofy, fairly easy to get along with addict has been replaced with the biggest meanest asshole I have ever met in my life.  For some reason I find that harder to take.

I realize for the hundredth time that I have had this delusion that if the drugs were gone, everything will be okay.   The drugs will be replaced with possibly alcohol, or mood changes or meanness or something else that I can’t live with either.

I say to myself in complete and utter anguish, “It is never over”………………..

Blog at