Well, HELLO THERE, TURKEYS! Your dearest friend, Cribsy has been recovering from another wonderful trip to the family ranch in Erath County, Texas. If Erath County sounds familiar to you, it’s because that’s where American Sniper Chris Kyle was unceremoniously executed by a fellow combat veteran that he was trying to help.
You might have seen or heard about the book and film, American Sniper, Bradley Cooper played Kyle, and for the first time in his smarmy Hollywood career, I enjoyed the actor. To say that Chris Kyle is a hero, is an understatement. Droves of Texans went out and braved the cold, pouring, rain to stand and salute his funeral motorcade as it made its way to his memorial service held at Texas Stadium, a massive arena that the Dallas Cowgirls football team calls home. Chris was, is, and will always be, an inspiring American.
All of this is important for later in the story.
Thanksgiving at Liberty Longhorn Ranch was a peaceful and relaxing one. For starters, many of us guzzled gallons of beer the night before and found ourselves staying up waaaay too late swapping laughs and goofs by the pavillion fireside. When each of the overindulged awoke the next morning, we were hangover free and had plenty of time to prep for the BIG MEAL, truly a Thanksgiving miracle!
The sumptuous spread consisted of all the hits, including my famous SAVORY sweet potatoes. For those of y’all new to class, as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing more revolting than the syrupy mound of goop that most serve at the Thanksgiving table. It’s a poorly kept secret that Satan’s favorite dish is sweet potato marshmallow casserole, that trashy ho can’t get enough. Matter of fact, the river Styx isn’t composed of fire, it’s lousy with that soupy sweet orange sh*t. But I digress…
As we lingered over second helpings of just about everything, dessert (and more importantly, the avoidance of clean up,) got underway. Oh sure, boxing up and cleaning after such a huge meal for 20+ is a necessity, but we put it off for a good 30-45min. Avoiding the inevitable can consist of many things such as, staring off into space while shame-eating a 3rd slice of pie, going outside for “fresh air,”only to down a couple of post-meal beers while outside, or, my personal favorite, visiting with the older guests while respectfully taking in all the wisdom they wish to dispense during the holiday of thankfulness.
G$ began to put away the meal, Lover Fo’ Life yelled out: “Y’all put away, we’ll wash.”
As G$ wrestled oceans of abundance into various Ziploc storage sacks, I surveyed the situation, clearly, I had a good 30 minutes to kill and several delights on the dessert table to assist me. Yes, for the next half hour, I would schmooze with my favorite Octogenarian, Memaw. With my plate of perfection, I saddled up next to Memaw, who was dressed to the nines, resplendent with a bejeweled turkey necklace. She was mid-conversation, so I just sat and enjoyed my giant slice of Key Lime pie. The conversation drifted to the topic of her beloved Senior Citizen center. I’m always happy to hear about what’s doing at Memaw’s #1 favorite place to be. The Senior Citizen center is the hub of her social circle, its gossip, politics, and intrigue never cease to entertain me.
“Fran uses bell peppers in her stew, obviously no one will eat it, so I’ usually take a bowl and throw it in the garbage when she’s not looking, just so she doesn’t feel like a complete failure,” and gems like, “Joe Bob cheats at grocery bingo. If there’s a God, he’ll make sure that cornbread mix Joe Bob won is filled with bugs.”
This time around, I was regaled with a tale of woe. Apparently, the county courthouse parking overflow robbed the Senior Citizens of their precious Center’s parking. At the beginning of this year, there was a major trial that garnered international attention and the “stupid news people,” decided to park all over SPECIFICALLY MARKED SENIOR CENTER PARKING(!!!)
I asked what the trial was for, and she said, “the guy who killed that man at the gun range.”
With her one statement, it became clear that the trial in question was for Eddie Ray Routh, who in late February was found guilty of murdering two men, one of them, Chris Kyle, the American Sniper. OF COURSE the media was there hogging up all the old folks’ parking, the WORLD was waiting to see justice get served to Kyle’s Assasin. Memaw was sketchy on the details of the case, but she decided to fill me in on what she did know:
“Some famous idiot took a nutcase to the gun range and the nutcase shot him to death. They say he was trying to help crazy veterans or some other crap like that, but I say, the fool deserved to die for being so stupid as to give a loony a gun to shoot around people.”
“Um, I don’t think that’s what happened.”
“No, it is. That’s exactly what happened. I mean, how dumb do you have to be to take a fruit loop shooting!? Whatever the case, nobody cared (at the Senior Citizen Center,) we were just ready to get our parking back.”
“But, Memaw, people DID care, thousands of Texans attended his memorial service and greeted his funeral motorcade like he was an assassinated sitting president.”
“I say one less fool in the world, what did the idiot expect? Yep, he deserved it. All I know is I’m back to being able to park close to my Center, and that’s all our group really cared about.”
I reeled in shock whilst pretending to finish my once-enjoyed slice of Key Lime pie. In a short amount of time, Memaw morphed from the kindly sassy lassy with a talent for card playing, into a holiday super-curmudgeon. Why, even Ebenezer Scrooge would have to give a golf clap after hearing this retelling of the American Sniper.
Sure, Scrooge was starving orphans and poor Victorian street urchins at the holidays, but ol’ Ebenezer had nothing on shaming a Texan legend for trying to help ailing war veterans.
The true dollup of whipped cream on the bah-humbug pie, was when she basically deduced that convicted double murderer, Eddie Ray Routh, was mostly guilty of stealing Senior Citizen Center parking. “If he hadn’t shot that showboater, there never would have been a trial.”
As I did a back-walk of horror into the kitchen, I decided starting the dishes early was a better option. Yes, I had to help put some stuff away, but once I had that hot soapy water enveloping my hands and forearms, I could attempt to make sense of the many mysteries of aging. While yours truly considers herself a villain to the core, I learned this Thanksgiving, that I’m merely a rookie in the supervillain game. As terrible a person as you might think that I am, I’ve clearly STILL got a long way to go on the cruel-ho stroll to power. Hopefully, when I finally ascend to my rightful throne of sorrow and kingdom of misery, there will be plenty of parking.
Let us all take something from this heartwarming tale of can-do service, family, and the wisdom of our Greatest Generation:
Never, repeat, NEVER, help anyone, OR YOUR COUNTRY, because it probably will get you killed and NO SENIOR CITIZEN wants to be inconvenienced by your killer’s trial, you dumba$$.
From my family to yours, Season’s Greetings!