Weirdos

The weekend before last, I went to the homeland to see my baby brother before he left for the second semester of his sophomore year of college. My visit coincided with my dad coming up from North Carolina to take him and my aunt and uncle returning from Japan. I got to see a whole bunch of family and I'd like to take this opportunity to confirm that we're all weirdos. This wasn't a new realization by any means, just a confirmation of years of study and research.

On the way home, I stopped off at the country store where David was working. He made me a nice dinner: an egg salad wrap with New England clam chowder. However, the deli didn't have any pickles and I couldn't stand the thought of a wrap with no pickles, so I made him take a jar of pickles off the shelf, open it, and use it on my wrap. The country store is located on the property of Jiminy Peak and is the only store for miles around, therefore the mark up on most items is about 100%. For example, David rang up a woman who spent $231 on some odds and ends she'd be needing for the weekend. Anyway, the jar of pickles I made David open cost $5, but I didn't think twice. Anything for a pickle. Maybe not $231 but still, I'm a weirdo (especially when it comes to pickles).

When I got home, my mother made me go to a birthday party for one of her friends. I was reluctant because I wanted to be lazy and stay home and not socialize with the cultured women of Petersburgh. Well, sure enough, the cultured women of Petersburgh were in full form that night. The theme of the birthday party was gardening and everyone was asked to bring a song, poem, or musing on the topic. I didn't know what I was in for until the woman sitting next to me launched into an aria and another woman wouldn't stop waxing poetical about the restorative, meditative powers of gardening. It wasn't my mother's fault that these people were absolute nutters, but I'm dubbing her a weirdo by association.

The next morning, my brother got his "I'm starting the second semester of my sophomore year" haircut. My mom is the chief hairdresser in the Lance household and many a fight has occurred as a result of her haircuts. I spent the first 14 years of my life with a mullet, which my mother still describes as a "shag." Well, David decided that if he was going to get it chopped, he was going to do so with a bang. So he did this:My brother is a weirdo.

Uncle Jim and Aunt Shizuka arrived mid-morning and told us about their months in Japan. I baked dinosaur cookies for my mother's story hour and we ate a nice lunch of grilled cheese and tomato soup. If we hadn't taken a walk after lunch, Jim and Shizuka would have commenced their post-meal ritual of climbing up and down the stairs to burn it off. We only live in a two story house. They are weirdos.

But we did take a walk over to the graveyard to visit Gramma's grave. On the way there and back we, of course, had to play Poohsticks. I honestly can't believe there's a Wikipedia page devoted to this game and that there's an actual Poohsticks World Championship! I thought we were the only ones who knew about it. I've played it as long as I can remember, usually at my Gramma's camp, Brookhill. We would eat orange popsicles, save the sticks, write our names on them, and then go down to the brook and play. We now just find a unique stick and use that, but it still involves dropping the sticks in the water and then running like maniacs to the other side. Why? I think you know the answer by now... weirdos!

David and I went to meet Dad and Aunt Sue for the RPI vs. Harvard hockey game. As classes weren't yet back in session, there was no pep band to perform the fight song, so we did it for them. Yes, the four of us stood there, doing our best to sing a fight song with no words that we didn't really know that well. I'm sure the people around us thought the same thing I did. Weirdos.

So I think all of my research and study has resulted in a definitive conclusion. We are, most certainly, without a doubt, a bunch of weirdos. But it's not like being a weirdo is a bad thing. They are usually much more interesting and more fun to be around than normal people. And as a card-carrying member of the weirdo club, I'm proud to be part of a family of weirdos!