Old New England Glassware in the Home
Part Thirteen
"Ok... Fine."
So
I just don’t stand there with ‘oh shit’ in my pants (Part Thirteen). I mean: “Code Red.
Scramble”. AND... dive to
the bottom and bury myself in the mud.
And... “GAME PLAN
NOW”. And... “Pretend like nothing
is happening.” And (Hey; never
know when you need it) “Idiots” (be one).
Ok
so the salt is in the cupboard... bottom.
I’m in the (dining) room.
So is the Texas girl. I
am... ‘don’t mess with me on this’.
The war of THIS universe begins.
“Ring
toss”: I must find out ‘if’ “DOES”
‘she’... KNOW ANYTHING. Ring
toss? Bet on “NO”. I... ring toss... myself... TOO...;
know nothing (“I [me] am pathetically stupid”) SHE DECIDES. I see that island and TOSS MY RING
THERE.
Girls: Ring toss is a dirty game.
Boys: Better go down in the basement and
watch the game.
“WHAT
GAME?”
This
game: Ring toss.
So
Ms. Texas gets nudged ...some how... toward... mentioning ‘the stuff’; HER
interest ‘in the stuff’ WHO SO (she)... turns to me... (pivot) and with her
crisp collared eyes and black on black on black (including the shoes [“HEALS”]
says:
“Do
you have a list?”
(of
the estate contents).
“Ahhhh...
THEY DO.” I say deflecting to the ‘Eve and Bing’.
They
nod and say “the whole estate is”
“APPRAISED”
(My
capital letters added)
A
Texas pause then to me ..eye to eye:
“AHHHH....No,
not me; the ESTATE had the contents APPRAISED”.
“You
didn’t do it?”
“No. I don’t do appraisals.”
“OH. So why are you here?”
“HE HELPS US. Mr. **** (the actual appraiser) couldn’t come today. WE HAVE HIS LIST. We just thought Mr. **** should be here to help. He knows what things are.”
“OH. So why are you here?”
“HE HELPS US. Mr. **** (the actual appraiser) couldn’t come today. WE HAVE HIS LIST. We just thought Mr. **** should be here to help. He knows what things are.”
“Oh. Ok”.... Do WE have a copy of the LIST?”
“Appraisal?”
... I say (RING TOSS).
“Yes...
do we?”
“I
guess.” says Bing.
Ok;
I explain this duck, duck, goose.
I did not do... nor do... appraisals. I was sent by the executor of the estate (attorney) to “LOOK
AT” the estate contents to tell HIM if and does he “HAVE TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT
THIS” meaning is the contents of the estate full of ‘antiques’ that require
attention and ...appraising... or is it ‘a zero’ (household crud). I, on that hired tab... tell him...
HIM... verbally... ‘what I see’.
And I am done.
HE.... hires an appraiser who ‘does
an appraisal’ of the ‘estate contents’ for the estate settlement and... that
party makes the list (correctly; “hand list”)... and the ‘those people’ make
copies... now being ‘passed around’.
For myself... I do know the appraiser and more (the in-trade melodramas
– plural intended - of ‘all that-and-him’) and how that effects
‘everything’. Also... I wish to
add: I’m around ‘lists’ (hand
lists) and ‘appraisals’ all the time and, like... they mean nothing to me, mean
mostly nothing in general, are, to my eye, mostly ‘stupid’ and ‘funny’ and...
and... and... are treated by my surround; the hand list waving others, as...
a.... hand... of... GOD.
What
does ‘actually’; the “I know the appraiser” mean?
Ok...
like... that this appraiser is... so fat... he can’t bend over to LOOK in the
BOTTOM of the cupboard with the salt in it. NOT THAT ...that would MATTER for... the ‘is so fat’ is just
the iceberg tip of this ‘appraiser’s’ “limitations”.
In
my opinion.
Of
course.
I
said this was ‘is a dirty game’.
And
I don’t have anything to do with ‘that’ (appraising, appraisal, appraiser, et
al) ... ‘anyway’.
Right?
So
the ‘list’ changes hands and I am like... standing there WATCHING VERY
VERY
VERY
Carefully
how the Ms. Texas ‘treats’ the ‘hand list’ and she fulfills my fondest dreams
by ...turning to the page titled “Dining Room” and saying, including arm gesture
with hand holding the list... “IS THAT THIS TABLE OVER THERE (read-on-list
“Nineteenth century Mahogany rope leg drop leaf table”).
“I
guess so” says Eve... looking at me.
I,
ring toss, step toward the state of Texas and, well, she... ‘protects’ the list
(never give up the Alamo) so, like, I, ahhhh... ‘retreat’ (“COOL!”). And it goes from there.
“Go
from there WHERE?”
“From
bad to worse” meaning from bad to good... to GREAT for... me.
I
am, I discern promptly, “ALONE” in this estate with the ‘they know nothing’
“AT
ALL” of... the Texan, the Eve and Bing... AND... the photocopy appraisal hand
list TOO. YEAH THAT COUNTS AS A
PERSON (‘known hand of God’).
“Bandied about”.
All
of them
And
‘the list’.
NO
BODY KNOWS “DID... SQUAT” AND
If
it is not on the hand list (person four)
It
“IS
NOT”.
Therefore.
I
am down at the bottom buried in the mud saying nothing WITH the Texas girl
Decided
I am “AN IDIOT”.
So
that’s that and she, with her hand list, with it’s “TOTAL VALUE” at the end
Goes
back to TEXAS
To
dutifully report
OH
WHO CARES WHAT SHE ‘reports’.
Want
a ‘good one’?
She
says... “MY FATHER, before I CAME UP HERE, asked me to ASK YOU if you have any
OLD GUNS”. He LOVES OLD GUNS. Do you have any? He might want them?”
Eve
and Bing say they “don’t have any... guns. ... I (we) think.”
Like...
what she gonna do? Buy an old gun
and... take it on the PLANE?
Back
to Texas?
So...
I’M LIKE... “oh I wish I HAD an ‘old gun’ in the truck RIGHT NOW... not that
Ms. State of Texas would actually BUY IT but
Hey:
She
could take a picture of it with her smart phone
Right?
Are
we far enough away from the lacy salt dish?
IT
IS safe and sound in the cupboard bottom:
“THEY”
know nothing.
“It”
(the salt) is NOT on “THE LIST”.
“The
List” is the defining hand of GOD determining the estate contents to
EVERYONE’S
satisfaction
Including
mine
AND
There
is ‘tons more’
NOT
ON THAT LIST
TOO.
AND
I AM THE ONLY ONE AT ALL WHO KNOWS THIS
?
AND
I am ‘who is that idiot?’. I have
‘signed nothing’. I am ‘where did he go?’.
I
am
Totally
not charted in there AND still
‘Ahhhh...
two bucks for that’
TOO.
YEAH
I CAN DO THAT. What are you gonna
do? Show up and stop me?
I
mean; go back to finding a good parking space at the Mall and
Other
‘things of value’.
That
Texas girl can find ‘good parking’ at a mall: SHE... CAN... DO... THAT. And I don’t mean just any
mall. I mean Texas Girl Mall. Going up the escalator in the heals?
Lacy
salt dish?
“Forget
it”
What’s
gonna happen? It will take a while
but... these idiots (includes ‘the list’) will succeed in destroying an old New
England... property, house, home, home contents, estate heritage and...
ahhhh... they won’t miss the good stuff (old New England decorative arts; the
‘antiques’). This last includes
the ‘glassware’; the ‘juice glasses’ AND the ‘old New England glassware’
Like
the lacy salt... dish... in the (I never saw anything ...like that... in there
did you?). Ok so I switch from
ring toss to setting up little tables with a peanut under walnut shells: I KNOW which shell the PEANUT is
under. I KNOW what the PEANUT IS
that is under each shell. I KNOW
WHERE the peanuts are. Where the
shells are. Where the little
tables are. AND: Where what why when is how... ‘why
me?’.
LOOK: They all know what they are doing and
tell me so.
“FINE”.
“Ahhhh....’
“How
about two bucks for that?”
“Are
any of those on the list?”
“No.”
“Ok...
Fine.”
I think that I get it. They can't win the shell game because there is no peanut on "the list". The intricacies of this "glassware" series are NOT the type of things discussed at the Harvard Business School (aka HBS).
ReplyDeleteMs. Texas and her like seem to be buying "estate heritage" in order to profess themselves as having cultural heritage.
ReplyDelete