My name is Max Gregson.
I’m a landscaper by day. By night, I’m just a guy trying to help his family get by. I have two kids and one wife. One wife who’s many, many people.
My kids thought it might be helpful for me to put down my thoughts. I think
they just wanted to have something to show their friends and laugh at. Hi, Kate.
Came home late. The kitchen was torn apart. Broken plant. Dirt trailing all the way up the stairs. Picture of Frank and Bev smashed to pieces in the shower. Tara was asleep in bed.
You ever have one of those nights where it’s 4 AM, you’re wide awake and you’re home alone because your wife just turned into a beer guzzling redneck who desperately needed a new Speed Stick? No? Just me?
She left five hours ago. You think I’d be worried, but at this point I’m used to it.
A lot of strange crap going on around here lately. Tara asked me what I want to do about it.
How can I know what I want for her when I don’t even know what I want for myself.
Things I’m beginning to miss now that I’m getting older:
1. The band I had in college
2. Long hair
3. Magazines covered in brown paper arriving in the mail
4. “Night Court”
5. Having a dog
6. Staying up all night, getting wasting and rolling into work
7. Twice in one night with Tara
8. Driving around with purpose
9. Getting excited to read the Sunday Comics
10. My father
How can one man eat two footlong sub sandwiches, drink a sixer of soda, smoke half a pack of cigarettes, fall asleep on a riding mower, spend at least forty minutes inside a client’s house taking a dump, then have the audacity to give me a few helpful health tips?
Bite me, Neil. Then spit me out. You don’t need the extra calories.
So hungover. Went to a party at Nick’s. Drank a lot. Haven’t thrown up like that in at least twenty years. I wish Tara was there. She could’ve helped me control T. T dug around in the medicine chest and downed half a bottle of cough syrup with a grape soda chaser.
I watched her. And then I threw up.
I gotta figure out a way to lay down the law with T.
I need money. Here’s the thing about living with Tara: It ain’t cheap. I wish they’d pass health care already because between the hospital and therapy and the pills… it’s a lot.
I could use a little cash. Wonder if they have any job openings with “Thunder From Down Under”.
I know this guy. We call him “Buck”. Sometimes I hate him because he takes up time I could be spending with my wife. But the truth is, he’s kind of fun to hang out with. He can drink me under the table. And he’s terrible at poker. One time, I won $120 off him.
I don’t know how Tara paid for the groceries that week.
I think I need to start exercising again. I’m not sure, but last night on my way to bed, I think I caught myself pausing on the landing halfway up the stairs.
I have a relative, I won’t say who, who has the amazing ability to take any situation, any situation at all, and turn it into a soap opera about her or him.
Remember the would-be Christmas Bomber last year? The guy who put a bomb in his underwear? Well, a few of us in the family had plans to fly down to Austin for the weekend a couple of weeks after that happened. We’re sitting in the airport and there’s an old man standing there, clearly wearing Depends. Well, that sent a certain family member into a fit of hysteria. And by the time the TSA got done with us, none of us were on that plane to Austin.
Extended family. Kinda like the appendix. Everyone’s got ‘em. You can sorta ignore them until they explode.