I have a pretty amazing family. They may be old fashioned in some ways, but you know what? They honestly are constantly keeping it real. I can't think of another friend's father, who asks his son, "Have you heard this new Gaslight Anthem album? Wow! He's really channeling The Boss!". I also have a VERY patient mother, whom has had to deal with 3 Sampson tempers, attitudes, and chauvinistic sense of humor (read: dick and fart jokes).
I think this whole blog has been placed in my head because my roommate had a heart to heart with his mother. It's nice to hear about my friends getting along with their parents.
When I was 19, I was still living with my parents. I had a job working for Primestar (which turned into DirecTV), didn't pay rent, and just freeloaded off of those two every day. My brother was 9, so he didn't matter. Kidding.
Every time they left town, they trusted their house in my hands. Looking at my life now, I don't know why they didn't automatically assume that the place would have been burnt to the ground by the time they got back, but they had one rule: As long as the house is in the same condition as when we left, then consider it null and void. They would come home, see the engorged, black plastic bags sitting at the end of the driveway, and would never say a word...as long as the house was still "proper".
Let's not shit ourselves. I had some parties. SOME FUCKING PARTIES. Sometimes, to the point where you look around, scared shitless, wondering who the hell all of these people are. You told 10 friends that you had the house to yourself, but 8,000 so and so's showed up. I had vinyl collections stolen, greasy scumbags in the house, but I still had all of their stuff EXACTLY where they left it...every time...well, kind of.
One time, I thought I had everything cleaned, but my mother found a bottle cap in a heater vent in the family room, but we laughed about that.
When I was 19, my parents went on a diving trip to Thailand, and, once again, foolishly left the house in my hands. This time, and it's kind of karma, in a way, I told a few friends to come over, and they did. It was around Halloween, so there were parties everywhere. My best friend at the time had invited every girl in his black book, but only five of them showed up...dressed like the goddamn Spice Girls. 2 male friends of theirs showed up, a local pool shark that we knew, and some random asshat that I didn't know. They brought a plethora of wine, and were ready to party.
My parents have a great house. A backyard, aptly named "The Office", at that time a hot tub, and all the proper party attire.
All 5 "Spice Girls" wanted to use the hot tub, and they did. Mind you, there was about 8 or 9 of us. This was no "party". That's where the irony will set in later. These girls, 3 of them being "thick", to be nice, practically drained the hot tub, almost to the point of frying the heating element. The other amazing part was probably the fact that one of them had spilled a glass of wine on their rug. Yes, it was red wine. Oops.
When they came home, a week later, I thought I had everything back in the exact place that they had left it, but I was wrong. Obviously, there was a big, red stain on their rug, and the hot tub is damn near on its way to Fuckneckville, so maybe I was getting senile in my old age back then.
The following day, I walked out to my car, which had a letter from my parents, sitting on my steering wheel, stating that I had been using their abode as a "flop house", and, for lack of a better term, GET THE HELL OUT.
I was gone within 5 days, and I will always be grateful for that. I was a spoiled brat, and I needed that kick in the ass to get my life into play.
I still remain a 31 year old child. At some point, I plan on growing up, but life is still too short for me. We're all dead in a year and a half, right? However, these two brilliant people still support whatever endeavor I have, come to every important show, and party harder than most of you.
By the way, guys...I still laugh at the marks in the dining room table, caused from a righteous game of quarters, but I love you both the same.
I've been calling my mother frequently to make sure she's solid since Nasty's exit. She's a strong woman, and deserves a medal for all that she has done.
On a side note, people, quit asking me if I'm ok. I pretty much stubbed my toe. All is still coming up Sampson.
Much love to you all,
RPS
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