When I dropped Grandma off on Saturday night she promptly told her husband that I’m, “A good driver, but scary.”
In an attempt at damage, control I mentioned that she and her husband haven’t driven on freeways in YEARS and that Utah drivers have a fondness for the tailgating and generally driving like assholes. (You may remember me writing about how Utah drivers do not have a very Christian-like attitude on the road. Sometimes their antics make me yearn for L.A. during rush hour. SERIOUSLY.)
Grandpa’s response? “You know what it is? IT’S THE GANG BANGERS.”
First, you don’t know weird from until you’ve heard a 94 year old man say the words “gang bangers.” Second, there doesn’t seem to be a high gang banger population in suburban Utah.
Are we all destined to become worry wart old folks? My Grandma and Grandpa are totally addicted to fear-based news. They watch and they worry, then they worry some more, and OH YEAH(!) they worry!
Grandma and I passed a fire on our way to the birthday party and she made me call Grandpa because he was probably watching the news and would be worried. Good thing I called because he was watching the news and he was worried. When I lived in Oakland they both totally FREAKED OUT. Every time I came to visit he would pop off with the Oakland murder toll and recount all the violence he’d seen on the news related to Oakland and his favorite topic: gang bangers.
I never saw ANYTHING shady while living in Oakland. I lived in a very charming neighborhood! I could walk to pretty much any type of restaurant, bar, grocery store, two movie theaters, all sorts of retail stores, and public transportation. Oakland’s got a bad rap, yo! My car was never broken into, I never had any shady peeping tom incidents or problems with creepy neighbors; though I had all of those problems when I lived in Whitey Mc Whitey Suburbia.
Sometimes, after hanging out with Grandma and Grandpa, I worry that it’s impossible to grow old without becoming a totally freaked out, worry wart, senior citizen. Then I remember my other Grandma who could care less about any of those things, though she’s not really the most sensitive. Hopefully I’ll master a sensible mix of both. 
My grandfather was a total worry wart too. I quickly learned that there were some things it was better for him not to hear about.
I’ve never thought that I might turn out the same way, but now you’ve got me wondering. I’ll have to take preemptive action.
I already am a worry wart, so I’m fully expecting when I turn really old, it will be worse.
What I hope not to do, though, is the constant talking about death and wanting to die. Although, both of my grandfathers are completely limited in their abilities now…and while their minds are still sharp, their bodies are not. That would suck, but it sucks being the grandkid and hearing your grandparents be so negative. I don’t want to do that when I become a grandma.
I’m sure the gangbanger problem in suburban Utah is simply HORRIFIC! You know, all of those little white homies who think 50 Cent is god and would shit their Fubu pants if ever confronted by a real, live BLACK person.
Grandmother’s are probably the most insensitive individuals ever! I love my grandmother, but she really just doesn’t think before she talks, and she can say some of the meanest things that I’ve ever heard.
My grandpa only ever worried about me going to church enough. But yeah, it’s easy to target old people and make them worry. Remember Sam Waterstone pushing “Old Glory Robot Insurance” for a SNL parody commercial? So spot on.
I don’t know, I’ve heard South Central Utah was pretty badass. I mean, look at Julie from Real World: New Orleans. That ho was pretty gansta.
Since you lived in Oakland (I lived in San Diego) you probably got those frantic calls that went something like this:
Grandma:
Are you OK?? I saw on the news there was an earthquake/fire !
YOU:
…There is?!?
I can’t wait to be old so I have an excuse for my crazy.
Sra,
I wasn’t living here when W decided to send us to war…but my mom said after watching FAR TOO much Operation Freedom coverage on the news he got confused about his own war experience and confused in general. Getting old blows.
Sicilian Mama,
It does suck to be a grandchild who gets to listen to a never ending stream of dreadful talk about aches and pains. Growing old sucks. Hell, I’m 32 and I’ve already had BACK SURGERY. I get it! Unfortunately, my “less positive” grandma thinks she should feel like she’s 18 and is always on the lookout for the next miracle cure. I should do a post about her crystal and magnet phase.
J.,
Word.
Rachel,
I can’t wait until I’m 84, because according to grandma, that gives you license to steal EVERY SINGLE avocado from the salad.
Noelle,
Lucky for me, grandma only mentioned The Gospel like four times on our drive.
Glad you mention the Sam Waterstone commercial. I love him! And it’s funny as hell. I’m going to bring up robots next time I kick it with Grandpa and see what happens!
thecoconutdiaries,
I know! Right now my only excuse for my crazy is genetics!
I have heard people say the most ridiculous things imaginable about what a “dangerous” neighborhood or school or person is.
Sadly it’s my parents (already!) who call every time they hear on the news that something bad happened in St. Louis. One time they called to warn me about a rapist who was scaling houses and getting in 2nd story windows. I wasn’t home when they called and their level of fear was so high that it got to me and I was afraid to go home.
Bwah ha haha! I love that she made you call him on the way to the party because she saw a fire and he might be worried while watching the news and then SURE ENOUGH he was worried and watching the news! Too funny. Great post.
The fact that you’re worried about becoming old and worried does not bode well. Does it? Kidding. Haha!
Those “gang bangers” are called the bishop’s, high council men’s, and stake president’s sons, and for everything that they get into their dads get them out of.
I think I will worry when I get older. What else is there to do, piss my pants?
It does seem a bit violent here compared to what I’m used to. But it’s bigger and I’m sure nothing compared to L.A.
I walked through part of Oakland at midnight once (after a Paul McCartney concert at UC Berkley, getting to the BART station). I freaked a little when I saw the city limits sign, but it was beautiful and very safe. You do hear things that make you think you’ll get shot if you so much as step into Oakland.
Went to Jack London Square in March and had lunch – it was awesome. I like Oakland.
I am an enormous scaredy cat. Conor blames my obsessive Law & Order consumption.
My Grandma (who was the last of my grandparents to “go”) used to be convinced that I was going to drown in my parents swimming pool, and would sit outside for hours guarding me against myself. It’s noteworthy that I was 16 AND a competitive at the time, and had been since age 5. Ironically, she weighted all of 90 lbs., so I’m sure she could have dragged my wet ass of a pool… NOT.
If we end up old and single, you can worry about the cold cuts and if they were left out too long, and I can smoke huge cigars on the porch and yell at the passing children.
I found out the last time I was home that my dad is a member of the NRA. When I asked why, he went into this weird, misguided rant about how everybody’s got a gun, but they’re not going to hurt you if YOU’VE got a gun, so we all need guns. Or something like that. Frankly, I was too busy wondering how I was related to that man to absorb the finer points of his argument. My parents live in a rural area outside a town of 3,000. They often leave their door unlocked all day and all night. Yet they probably worry about “gang bangers,” too. Sigh.
It’s my parents that are the worrywarts. My mother is always calling me to say she just heard about (random violent incident in my general part of town) on the news, and to be careful driving home!
Ironically, I now live in the “bad” part of town, and nothing has ever happened to me. I lived in a “fashionable” neighborhood for 10 years and my car was broken into ALL the time.
I keep all kinds of mental notes of what I want to remember to do or not do when I am old. Sadly I imagine that by the time I am actually old, I’ll either have forgotten all these rules I made for myself or won’t give a crap because I’ll be so happy I made it to whatever age that I feel like I can do whatever I want.