Holding Forth

Published on August 16th, 2014 | by Richard Black

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Thoughts on Buying a Home and its Applications to Other Parts of My Life

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The new and improved family I hope to might trade up to with my new home…if they’ll have me.

As some of you may know I’ve had some challenges with my vegetable garden this year. It’s been something of a trial for me and while I’m not putting it on par with a testicular hernia, stage four ass cancer or being forced to sew shoes for Nike in a third world country I’ve found the experience to be somewhat disheartening.

Fortunately I’ve devised a solution or, at least, a solution has presented itself and one that doesn’t involve deforesting an entire block. It turns out we’re going to be selling our house! Now no one in his or her right mind would sell a home simply because he or she can’t grow a friggin decent tomato but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a factor at all in the decision.

In all honesty I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders.  That vegetable growing problem is nothing I need to be concerned about. The same is true about the violet infestation, the green ash borer invasion, the Japanese Beetle affront or any other plague that has been assaulting my yard on a consistent basis for the past ten years.

I’m so enamored with the concept of trading up that I’ve been thinking about the other bits and pieces of my life I can swap out for my peace of mind. Sure there’s a ton of other shit I could mention that I’m getting rid of in the sale. My dryer hasn’t been able to dry a load of laundry in one shot for a good eight years. The dishwasher regularly leaves chunks food on dishes and glasses that could very well be washed off and given to a local food bank but I’m thinking about the bigger picture.

Instead of changing my dietary habits I’m considering swapping out the old liver for a new model. I don’t know if I can afford it but I’d like to look at something Russian. My lungs can’t be in the greatest shape either so I’d like to be on the lookout for a really sturdy pair, maybe from someone in the Andes, although not from the same person. That would be unconscionable. We all need at least one lung to breathe. I firmly believe that.

Darcy’s been causing some angst as well. She hasn’t eaten a vegetable in a good two and a half years and I’m willing to bet that there’s a four year old Asian girl out there who’d be willing to cut off a few fingers for a can of green beans. I’m not saying that I’d make her do it but it’s nice to see that level of dedication to vegetables these days.  Assuming we’re not swimming in Asians in fourteen years Darcy 2.0 would also have a better chance at getting into a top notch college than the older version. Sure I’d still have to find five or six million dollars to pay for an undergraduate degree but given Darcy 2.0’s job prospects I have no doubt she’ll be able to pay me back.

Laura’s also been nagging me quite a bit these days. “When are you going to trim that thing?” is an often asked question around the house with regard to my beard. “Did you clean the bathroom today? It looks filthy,” is another usually followed by “what’s for dinner?” or “why aren’t you wearing pants?”

I’m not saying that our marriage is in dire straits but it can’t hurt to look around? Clandestinely of course. I’ve always wanted to put up a profile on eharmony or match.com or blackpeoplemeet.com just to see what kind of talent I can attract these days. Maybe now’s the time to dangle my hook in the water?

Just off the top of my head my second wife would have to be independently wealthy or willing to support me, hot as nails, able to rub my feet and back at a moment’s notice and willing to place the needs of my daughter and myself above her own in just about every situation.

Of course I’m joking. I already have a wife who meets all of those criteria, mostly, and I’m not just writing that because my financial well-being is completely and totally dependent upon staying in her good graces.

That said a good foot rub is hard to find.

Laura has often stated a distaste for rubbing my feet and I can thoroughly understand her viewpoint. I’m thinking that maybe a second wife, a sister wife in the polygamous Mormon genre, with a foot fetish might be a something we should both take a look at.

This is not to say that there won’t be a few hurdles to overcome. Moving to Utah will have it’s challenges. Converting to an outlawed version of a religion will, no doubt, pose other issues not to mention the emotional upheaval that will come from such a drastic geographic and theological move. There is also the fact that Laura will, most likely, grab my daughter Darcy and run to the nearest police station or diner once the rufies wear off and call in a SWAT team on the hovel I’ve chosen for a dwelling.

Still good foot rubs are hard to come by these days and that’s really something to throw back into the mix.


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