Blood's thicker than mud

I hang out at my parents' place a lot.  It's usually a win-win because I get a meal out of the deal and they get the satisfaction of visual proof that I'm eating (ok, this is more of a win for my mom.)  That's not all, obviously.  We actually enjoy each other's company and provide one other with hours of entertainment - at least by our family's standards.  For example, there's my mom and her growing ability to make technology work for her.  Sort of.

Ever since email had become a thing that people in offices had and she figured out how to hit forward, I've been getting lots of messages involving prayers, cartoons of sassy old ladies, and silly pictures of cats.

Like this:

And this:

Um, who has a cat and a copier in the same location?

A big leap happened last year when my mom learned to text.  She sent me one, but as I was at work when I read it, I was slow to respond.  So I got an email a couple of hours later, with the subject line reading "Did you get my text?!?"  Welcome to the world of texting, Ma.  People here leave you hanging and generally act like jerks.  Or worse, they are witty and cool in this world and disappointingly flat in the real one.

So a couple of months ago, I accompanied my folks to the AT&T store to update their phones and act as interpreter for any fancy tech talk they might encounter (they didn't really need me there, they were fine but whatever, blah blah blah filial piety...) Being equipped with a fancy new phone, my mom decided to show off her mad skillz by texting me a picture of the calendar I made her (out of pictures I took - so meta)  for her cubicle at work.  And she hit a small snag.

Moms can figure out how to scream at you in so many ways.

Speaking of phones, she gets really frustrated playing with my IPhone.  She was super excited to show me a website she discovered and tried to pull it up on my phone, but kept getting all frustrated when she'd touch an icon in the corner and a bookmark menu would come down or she'd open or a new link or other annoyances that prevented her from her goal.  Mind you, while she's doing this, she's moving it closer, then further, back and forth to get the right visual distance because she has inevitably taken off her glasses to see it better and it's this whole hilarious juggling act that I cannot adequately describe.  But it was worth it, because in her web surfing she has stumbled onto something damn hilarious and I spent the rest of the evening scrolling through the images and laughing my ass off. 

This guy Steve Melcher over at this gem right here created a daily comic strip where he takes a painting - and often a famous or historic one - and gives it a new title.  So simple, so brilliant.  So damn funny.  Like the one she sent me today: 

Or this guy, with whom I have something in common:

And my personal favorite: 

Seriously, go through them all.  There are so many recognizable paintings re-appropriated for hilarious purposes.  And you'll learn something, too.  Like I learned that the Dutch masters are depressing, the Flemish are freaky, and there are more paintings of the Annunciation than you can shake a stick at, if that's your thing. This guy's a genius and I'm jealous I didn't think of this first.  

UPDATE:  Here's his blog.  http://thatispriceless.blogspot.com/

So back to hanging out with my parents.  It being Friday, and a stormy one at that, we kicked it old school with pizza and a movie.  Back to the Future III was on, and even though lots of people hate on it as the worst part of the trilogy, my mom and I like it because we both dig Westerns.  My dad had arrived at this point, and he's on the other end of the couch playing with the dog and not paying a whole lot of attention.  At one point he looks up at the screen and asks, 

"Hey, isn't this the movie where they all sit around and fart?"

Pause.

"No, no, Dad, that's Blazing Saddles."

My mother is laughing hysterically and she tells him we're watching Back to the Future III.  Having not hit the nail on the head the first time, and the fact that that my mom was still on the other side of the room, he was back to playing with Stella before taking in that last detail.  Because a minute later, he sees Michael J. Fox on screen and says,

"Hey, isn't that the guy from Back the Future?"

Well that was enough for me and my mom and we both lost it at this point, and now Dad's in on the joke, because he sees Christopher Lloyd and says, 

"Hey, isn't that the guy from Taxi?"

But he's laughing before he gets to the end of the question. It's almost as indescribable as when my mom futzes with her glasses and my IPhone, and he does it all the time, so if you've met him, you've seen this.

Then we all tune in to the Stella show, because it's better than anything on T.V. (though with her gas reserves, she'd fit in with the cast of Blazing Saddles just fine) and she's just crazy and goofy and it's obvious that she and my dad are just nuts about each other.

Dad with his baby girl.  The other one, with four legs.  I have just the two.

Why yes, that's my brilliant father putting his arm in a pit bull's mouth.

Clearly he and this dog have a special bond.  So special, in fact, that he asked me the other day if I thought  my mother was jealous of the dog and how much he loves her.

"Seriously, Dad?  No."

I told my mom about this and she thought it was pretty funny.  Also, no.

After hanging out with them for a while, my dad drove me home and bought me a black and white cookie at the diner on the way.  Awesome, right?  We listened to Cousin Brucie, which I liked, because sometimes when he drives me home he makes me listen to Frank Zappa, which, ok, fine, but this is my dad we're talking about so it's not your ordinary Zappa (whoa, that word pairing doesn't make sense) but the REALLY weird stuff.  And he tells me stories about concerts he's gone to, which brings me to my wrap-up.*  

Since I titled this post with a line from a Sly and the Family Stone song, I'm ending with a link to a seasonally appropriate tune by the same band.  Yesterday was the first day of summer, and it always makes me think of one of my favorite songs:

*If you ever meet my dad, maybe he'll tell you about the time he saw Sly and the Family Stone at the Apollo Theater.   That's right.  The guy feeding his arm to a dog.  That guy right there.

Happy summer, 3 people who read my blog.  Sorry, 4.  Hi Ma!