25 October 2026
2030
R. Linda:
I wasn't looking for trouble that morning. Trouble, however, seemed to be looking for me.
It started with me mother-in-law, the Dragon lady, Dragon for short. She came up for the weekend (so she says--she is still here). We were talking Christmas gifts, and she stated she doesn't want Betty Boop ornaments anymore. She doesn't feel like Betty Boop anymore. She's too depressed. About what? God only knows.
Every year we have gotten her a Betty Boop Christmas ornament because, for some reason that I don't see, she associates herself with the cartoon character. And every year she's been thrilled with the ornaments. But this year, she's decided she's too "depressed" and doesn't "feel like The Boop anymore".
Depressed about what I asked, somewhat bemused. She didn't know; she just has a general feeling of depression. Tonya suggested she go for counselling, but no, no, that would be admitting to a mental illness. You think? I've thought she was a mental case from the day I met her. I know, I know, I'm being unkind, but when you think of the relationship she and I have had, is it any wonder I'd think that?
So we had shopped early and got the Dragon a lovely Betty Boop ornament that we don't dare give her. Of course, this has led to a back-and-forth argy between Tonya and me. I want to give it to her as the last Boop she will ever get, per her request of no more. But Tonya says no, because she doesn't want any more Bettys; she's depressed, so NO.
Well, I shall wrap it up in secret and give it to her anyway. Especially after listening to this over me morning coffee, when I wasn't exactly fully awake—her reading of the morning headlines.
"'Latin America's conseratives shit faces its biggest test yet in Brazilian election.'" I looked over her shoulder; it really said, 'shift'. I sighed.
Then she read: "'British fire threatens million dollar homes in Southern California as high winds fan the flames.' Did Prince Harry start a fire?" Oh me God! I read it over her shoulder, confused: "'brush', not British." I tell ya she's getting that ornament!
By this time, I'd had about all the Dragon Lady I could take for one morning. When Tonya suggested we go and gas up the Saturn, I was only too happy to oblige. A little fresh air, a change of scenery, and a few minutes away from Betty Boop's identity crisis sounded just the ticket.
But apparently there was no escaping the lunacy. It followed me right out of the house and down to the petrol station.
At the pump, a man pulled in ahead of an older gent who had been patiently waiting his turn. The old fellow wasn't having it. He got out of his car and marched over.
"Hey you! I was next!"
"Too bad! I'm here now," the younger man said, and proceeded to pump his petrol as though that settled the matter.
"You stinkah you!"
The younger man turned on his heel and stepped right into the older fellow's face.
"Say that again, and I'll pop you one!"
Now, there are times when a man might consider the wisdom of keeping his mouth shut. This was one of them. But the old gent wasn't about to back down.
"You're a stinkah."
And with that, he stepped even closer, until there was scarcely room for a postage stamp between them.
I could see trouble coming. The old fellow was giving as good as he got, and neither of them seemed inclined to behave like a sensible human being.
Then it happened.
The younger man put an open hand against the old fellow's chest and shoved him back, following it with a closed fist straight to his face.
Down went the old gent.
Now, as luck would have it, paramedics were at the next pump, filling up their vehicle. They saw the whole business and came hurrying over. The old fellow was still on the ground, squirming about, and didn't seem in any hurry to get up.
One of the paramedics bent down and asked him what had happened.
And do you know what the old gent said?
"I tripped, is all."
I nearly swallowed me tongue.
Tripped?
I'd just watched a man plant his fist in the old fellow's face, and there he was, lying on the ground, telling the paramedics he'd tripped!
I don't know whether it was pride, embarrassment, or simply not wanting the bother of explaining himself. But I couldn't get over it.
He'd been cheated out of his turn at the pump, called the fellow a stinkah, stood his ground, got knocked flat, and then took the blame for the whole business himself.
And the younger man? Well, he'd got his petrol.
I tell ya, between the Dragon Lady losing her Betty Boop and a man who mistakes a punch in the face for a trip, I'm beginning to wonder if I'm the only sane person left.
And Tonya would probably argue with that.
Gabe
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