EPIC START TO MY VACATION

I’m in wonderful Wildwood. The sun is shining and the breeze is blowing. The Section 8 neighbors’ two yappy dogs are barking already. Joyce hasn’t started cursing on the deck yet, so I have that going for me. 25 cent beer night at the Shamrock is only one day away. I left to come down last night after work. As usual, I had to pick up my mother and her fat cat before heading down the shore. She moved to Media, off Baltimore Pike, so my drive would take 20 minutes more than my old drive.

I decided to take Baltimore Avenue through West Philly. The horrific sights could damage me forever. I lost count of the fat teenage black girls pushing baby strollers along the street, with no black men along for the walk. I wonder why. The streets were piled with garbage. The ramshackle buildings that housed check cashing stores and pawn shops were barely inhabitable. There were more boarded up houses than occupied houses. Porches were collapsing due to decades of neglect. The streets were filled with potholes, as the City of Philadelphia doesn’t give a shit about the people living in West Philly. The Democrats will get their votes despite 50 years of creating their poverty. The Free Shit Army continues to shuffle around the streets in their $150 sneakers and talking on their iPhones, because the EBT cards are still being replenished. I wonder what happens to West Philly on the day the free shit stops flowing.

So, I’m within 15 minutes of arriving at my mom’s new apartment and the most epic nasty thunderstorm I’ve ever witnessed struck. I thought my Honda Insight was going to go airborne and I’d run into Dorothy and the Wicked Witch.

All the traffic lights on Baltimore Pike went out and visibility was about 3 feet. Trees branches were falling everywhere. Intersections were being flooded rapidly. But I made it to the apartment complex. Of course, my hard of hearing mother didn’t hear her phone when I dialed it three times to let me into the building. Eventually she realized I was there and let me in. The whole apartment complex had lost power. After eating a roast beef sandwich, I gathered her luggage and jammed it into the Insight. Last, but certainly not least, was getting Fat Moe into a too small cat carrier. I successfully picked up Moe without getting a hernia and jammed him into the carrier. All looked good. It was 6:30 and the rain had virtually stopped. We should have made it to Wildwood before 8:30. It was not to be.

As we got onto a jammed pack I-476 heading to I-95, the traffic reports produced the worst news possible. The storm had knocked down trees everywhere. The Schuylkill was shut down. I-95 south was at a standstill due to an overturned truck. But luck seemed to be on our side, as I-95 north was clear. We cruised over the Walt Whitman Bridge and then heard the news. A tree had fallen across three of the four lanes of Route 42, my only legitimate route to the shore. I hoped for the best and got the worst. We were virtually parked for 90 minutes. Have you ever been parked with your hard of hearing mother who tends to tell you the same stories she told you last week? Have you ever been parked with a fat cat meowing loudly in the back seat of your car? The last time Moe meowed like that, he pissed his in his carrier and caused havoc like never before for my Section 8 neighbors.

Eventually the slow moving union government drones removed the tree and we resumed our trek to my peaceful, relaxing vacation. If you thought the bad weather was over, you were wrong. About halfway down the Atlantic City Expressway, the clouds opened up and some of the most brilliant flashes of lightning I had ever seen began permeating the atmosphere. The last 30 miles were a white knuckle drive through these torrential downpours. I drove faster as Moe’s meowing increased. I didn’t want another piss incident. As we pulled up to my condo, it seems my Section 8 neighbors had some FSA friends over and they decided to park in my driveway. After 3 1/2 hours on the road, I wasn’t happy. I was able to maneuver around and park in the garage. By the time I unpacked it was 11:00 pm. So much for my 8:30 arrival.

Now for the weird part. I woke up this morning and checked email. I had an email from the executor of AWD’s will. No he didn’t leave TBP $10 million. It seems the executor was given access to his emails and saw my concerned emails from last summer. The executor is his ex-wife and she shed some light on what happened. It is so AWD – stubborn as a mule until the end. Here is what happened:

He called in to work on a Monday then didn’t show up on Tuesday. His nurse knew something was wrong so she sent office staff to look for him. They found him in his recliner. Autopsy said he had pneumonia and emphysema. His nurse said he was awful sick Monday and she told him he needed to see a doctor. He replied “I am a doctor”!!

I can picture him now yelling at his nurse. So sad. He was too stubborn to seek help. His ex-wife had very nice final words for the TBP family:

I just wanted to let you know what happened other than what the paper released. On behalf of the girls we would like to thank you and the other online friends for being his friend.

AWD’s spirit will always be part of TBP. He was indispensable, but we will go on. He would have wanted it that way.

Meanwhile, my mother is worried sick. Fat Moe won’t come out from under the bed. She thought he had a heart attack or a stroke. I think he might just be stuck, or he is tired of listening to her. I need a drink. Is it too early?

My posts will be more sporadic for the next week or so. But, I do tend to get inspiration in Wildwood. Stay tuned.

Time for some fried oreos, Mack’s pizza, and funnel cake.