The Old Crow: An Introduction

The Old Crow owns a house in North Seattle, of which we rent the downstairs. It is a beautiful house and she works very hard maintaining it and keeping it nice. I’ll post pictures when I get around to it. Check here to see if I’ve done it. Yes, she works hard. As a matter of fact, that’s all she does. Her world is quite small, and very closely managed.

Rumor had it (from her daughter) that the Old Crow married young; back in the days where a high school education was less important than an eligible suitor. As a military wife, Old Crow maintained the home and reared the children. Unfortunately for her (and me) and also important to this story, she never learned anything else.

Old Crow is sharp as a tack. However, the only thing she clutters her mind with is the garbage & recycling schedule, and everyone else’s business. For her communication and social grace are as inexplicable and foreign as brain surgery to me.

Case in point: as I am pulling my car from the garage, she is industriously weeding the front yard—as she always is. I stop the car to fiddle with my cell phone—as I always am. She walks up and stands in front of my window. By the way… this is where most of our communication takes place… one of us in the car, and the other standing in the driveway; either one initiated by her.

Anyway… she simply stands in front of my window. No knock; no ‘roll-the-window-down’ gesture or no wave; just her four-foot-something staring at me through the window. No doubt I rolled down the window with an eye-roll—I hope not, but I think I did.

She says, “[Mrs. eSquared] has a flat tire.”
“Oh”? I say.
She responds, “Yup.”
“Thanks.”

She turns on her heal and goes back to the bush she crawled out from under.
I’m left wondering what just happened.

The interaction that I mentioned in my previous post has come full circle. It is mind boggling. First, a bit of explanation…

To know me is to know that I don’t like hot weather. Furthermore, we have had uncharacteristically hot days lately. Last fall I put a fan in the shed that didn’t work, thinking I would take it to the dump when I accumulate enough crap to make it worth the $20 fee.

So… again, just as I am pulling into the garage, she walks up and stands in front of my window:

Whirrrrrrr (the sound of the window rolling down)
Me: “Hi… hot today huh”?
Crow: “That fan… in the shed.”
(Awkward silence)
Me: “Yeah”?
Crow: “You uews’n it”?
Me: “Uh… I would if I could; but it’s broke.”
(Another awkward silence)
Crow: “OH, (looking surprised) I lent it to the neighbor.”
Me: (growing perturbed) “WHAT”!?!
I narrow my eyes as the voice in the back of my head tells me I can’t reason with her.
Me: “Yeah… it doesn’t work.”
Crow: “Well… he’s an electrician. Maybe he can fix it.”
(More awkward silence)
(Remember, it’s the hottest day of the year, and my repulsion for being hot.)
Crow: “If he can fix it, you want it back”?

At this point, I realize this is not a hidden-camera prank, or an episode from the Twilight Zone. I am face-to-face with the absurdity that is my life.

“Sure.” I say as I pull in to the garage and close the door behind me.

This marathon post is long enough. I’ll finish the story tomorrow… Stay tuned.