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Sep. 26th, 2005 03:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thehefnerSo my car has been making weird and increasingly loud noises over the past couple weeks. Whenever I'd steer, the car would RRRRRRRR, not quite grinding but disconcerting enough. And since I was way overdue for an oil change, I figured I'd drop it off at the local Exxon where I always have maintenance done. The people know me and, more importantly, know and like my father, who- most importantly- always fronts the bill.
This money is, of course, usually expected to be reciprocated by my unending servitude to the drunken old man. However, in the weeks since the last blow-up I have been seeing him less and less, purposely so. I call him every other day or so to say hi, and I will get him whatever groceries he needs and run whatever non-disgusting errands he needs, but finally I am no longer there to simply provide him company for six hours every day. The most time I've spent with him in the past month was the hour when I told him the "My Grandfather's Last Words" Hefner Monologue, where he laughed so hard. As I had to drop the car off, that meant I would have to wait at his house 'till Exxon called back. I just hoped there'd be no drama.
I spent the day napping until about fifteen minutes ago, when Exxon called up. The oil change went fine. The noises I'd been hearing are a result of power steering failure, that I'd been totally empty of fluid because it had been leaking. They said parts and labor for the whole thing, oil change included, would be $350.00. In my bleary state, I said that was fine. You have to do what you have to do, right? Especially with one's father paying the bill.
So I went down to fill him in on the situation. When he said, "You don't expect me to pay for that?" I immediately thought, oh here we go again, he's not going to pay it because I've been an ungrateful little shit who hasn't been spending time with him and spending every day watching him get completely pickled before my eyes. But that wasn't entirely what he had to say. It was part of it, sure, but this wasn't guilt-as-usual in the Hefner household.
"This is a very stressful time for me, John. As you know, I'm about to undergo eye surgery. What I didn't tell you is that I have been stressing about this all week because there's a chance I could be left blind." He went into the specific details about different kinds of lenses and how what he is getting is going to cost $5,000. How he's been spending and spending on medical expenses, which is news to me since last I saw him this man had completely given up on doctors and medication. But that was for his gout, fixing which would have meant stopping drinking. I guess his eyes are a far more important matter altogether. I am surprised by this and genuinely sympathetic. Had I but known he was going through this, I would have made the time to see him more. I'm not going to be his tool for amusement just because he wants to see me 24/7, but jesus, if he's scared like this, I'm not going to leave him alone.
Then he starts to talk about the me-not-being-there-stuff as I was expecting, but this time it's much more reasonable, much more... human. He explains how he knows how much I've been doing for him, but how I've also not been making any time lately to just sit and talk. Even my phone calls are very curt and to the point. All this is true. If my mother and I hate anything, we hate chit-chat. Living with my father and her mother can do that. Anyway, my point is, this wasn't guilt tripping. I don't think, unless he's taken his art to new levels. This was an honest appeal for support.
Of course, as this is my father, he had to ultimately phrase it as "I just want you to show me that you give a shit about me." Some things about a person you just can't change, I suppose.
I told him of course I'd pay my own bill, I understand, sure. I suppose it was bound to happen eventually, the whole you're-making-money-pay-your-bills, but I just wanted to see how long I could sail mooching off him. It seems horrible, but hey, if he's gonna be tormenting my life, the least he can do is pay my bills. He'll find a way to guilt-trip me anyway, so let him guilt-trip me about that then. But then I mentioned, quite honestly as it occurred to me, that my last paycheck was just under $350.00. After quick reflection, he said he would pay for it, adding, "And I really don't want to phrase it this way, but just... I just want you to show me you care." I said ok, of course.
His Exxon card is in my pocket now and I'm about to go pay up. But I needed to write this as I recovered from my nap and had it fresh in my mind. Life with my father seems to have taken another strange turn and I'm just not sure what to think.
This money is, of course, usually expected to be reciprocated by my unending servitude to the drunken old man. However, in the weeks since the last blow-up I have been seeing him less and less, purposely so. I call him every other day or so to say hi, and I will get him whatever groceries he needs and run whatever non-disgusting errands he needs, but finally I am no longer there to simply provide him company for six hours every day. The most time I've spent with him in the past month was the hour when I told him the "My Grandfather's Last Words" Hefner Monologue, where he laughed so hard. As I had to drop the car off, that meant I would have to wait at his house 'till Exxon called back. I just hoped there'd be no drama.
I spent the day napping until about fifteen minutes ago, when Exxon called up. The oil change went fine. The noises I'd been hearing are a result of power steering failure, that I'd been totally empty of fluid because it had been leaking. They said parts and labor for the whole thing, oil change included, would be $350.00. In my bleary state, I said that was fine. You have to do what you have to do, right? Especially with one's father paying the bill.
So I went down to fill him in on the situation. When he said, "You don't expect me to pay for that?" I immediately thought, oh here we go again, he's not going to pay it because I've been an ungrateful little shit who hasn't been spending time with him and spending every day watching him get completely pickled before my eyes. But that wasn't entirely what he had to say. It was part of it, sure, but this wasn't guilt-as-usual in the Hefner household.
"This is a very stressful time for me, John. As you know, I'm about to undergo eye surgery. What I didn't tell you is that I have been stressing about this all week because there's a chance I could be left blind." He went into the specific details about different kinds of lenses and how what he is getting is going to cost $5,000. How he's been spending and spending on medical expenses, which is news to me since last I saw him this man had completely given up on doctors and medication. But that was for his gout, fixing which would have meant stopping drinking. I guess his eyes are a far more important matter altogether. I am surprised by this and genuinely sympathetic. Had I but known he was going through this, I would have made the time to see him more. I'm not going to be his tool for amusement just because he wants to see me 24/7, but jesus, if he's scared like this, I'm not going to leave him alone.
Then he starts to talk about the me-not-being-there-stuff as I was expecting, but this time it's much more reasonable, much more... human. He explains how he knows how much I've been doing for him, but how I've also not been making any time lately to just sit and talk. Even my phone calls are very curt and to the point. All this is true. If my mother and I hate anything, we hate chit-chat. Living with my father and her mother can do that. Anyway, my point is, this wasn't guilt tripping. I don't think, unless he's taken his art to new levels. This was an honest appeal for support.
Of course, as this is my father, he had to ultimately phrase it as "I just want you to show me that you give a shit about me." Some things about a person you just can't change, I suppose.
I told him of course I'd pay my own bill, I understand, sure. I suppose it was bound to happen eventually, the whole you're-making-money-pay-your-bills, but I just wanted to see how long I could sail mooching off him. It seems horrible, but hey, if he's gonna be tormenting my life, the least he can do is pay my bills. He'll find a way to guilt-trip me anyway, so let him guilt-trip me about that then. But then I mentioned, quite honestly as it occurred to me, that my last paycheck was just under $350.00. After quick reflection, he said he would pay for it, adding, "And I really don't want to phrase it this way, but just... I just want you to show me you care." I said ok, of course.
His Exxon card is in my pocket now and I'm about to go pay up. But I needed to write this as I recovered from my nap and had it fresh in my mind. Life with my father seems to have taken another strange turn and I'm just not sure what to think.
