April's Real Blog

Monday, June 30, 2008

Strange, Disturbing Musings from My Bro

I M sorry 2 have 2 tell U this, but it looks like we R not dun w/those flashbacks we were in all of this past wk. We may B in 4 a whole 2nd week! Here's what Mike had 2 say in a comment last nite:

Formerly little sis. Just the other day, I had wondered why it is that Josef Weeder is my best friend instead of Lawrence Poirier, since Lawrence and I grew up together. It's not the reason that everyone suspects, i.e. Lawrence picked Nicholas Browne over me. (I get very tired of explaining that this is not the reason.) Actually, it started at a very early age.

I remember one time when I was sitting on my front stoop outdoors with Lawrence. I was very distressed over something that had happened with my mother. I said, "All I have to do is LOOK at my mom and she gets mad!" I thought this sterling description was sufficient to get Lawrence's sympathy. After all, his mother was Connie Poirier, and who wants to look at her seven shades of ugly? But no! Lawrence didn't believe me. He said, "Honest, Mike? You were just lookin' at her?" I was shocked that Lawrence did not trust me. I think this was the first time I realized that Lawrence and I would not agree on everything, like Josef and I do.

So, to better describe my case to Lawrence, I added, "Yeah. She was in the bath at the time." I thought this would put it over with Lawrence, but instead he looked at me and started mumbling something about how he would do whatever it took to avoid seeing Elly Patterson naked."

When I told the same story to Josef Weeder, his response was very different from Lawrence's. He talked about how he often snuck into his mother's washroom when she was taking a bath, to look at her. That's one of the things about Josef and me. Our experiences are so similar, I often feel like we are the same person broken apart only by our different choices in career.

Michael Patterson
Uh.... Yeah. Mike an' Weed. Peas in a pod. I think I need 2 change the subject, eh?

So, I start my job @ the vet clinic 2day. Weird, it seems 2 me my job will B a lot like one I had when I was eight, @ an animal shelter. Check what I wrote in my monthly letter back in March of 2000:

The[y] paid me 10 dollars at the animal shelter for cleaning out cages but I didn't want to get paid so me and Alex (another kid who comes with me) went and bought treats for the animals.

We have 3 dogs, 2 puppies and lots of kittens (in the adoption part) and there's about 6 pets who are lost and waiting for their owners. One is really sad and they don't have collars or identification things. Dr. Gillan who is the vet thinks people aren't looking for them. So I don't know what will happen. We play with them a bit, but we don't take them out because they are too big, so some volunteers from the highschool help out too. I like working at the animal shelter!

Only this time, I'm totally gonna let them pay me. I need the $$$!


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  • At 6:35 PM, Anonymous judge parker said…

    Michael Patterson,

    You better watch your back, son! My book about a crime-fighting judge and his right hand man, Hank Austin, is going to kick your little girlie book about Windjammers off the best-seller list. Not only that, but I am going to do a little something that you never had to do to get your book published, i.e. solidify the deal and not take the first thing handed to me. Not only that but I’ve been around since 1952 and my wife is still hotter than your wife.

    Judge Parker

  • At 6:36 PM, Anonymous michael patterson said…

    Judge Parker,

    Right. We all know Sam Driver wrote that book. He does all the work, even though you get the credit. You haven’t done anything but make token guest appearances since you got married. Besides, who wants to read a story about a crime-fighting judge, when they can read a story of hard-working, sweaty, half-clothed sailors on a Windjammer? Whew! I think I need to read my book again, and I wrote it.

    Michael Patterson

  • At 7:02 PM, Anonymous jeremy jones said…

    april, i haven’t betrayed u. becky iz playin’ a canada day concert & asked me 2 do the sound & i need the money, eh? just cuz wen gerald sez he iz playin’ drumz 4 becky & it rilly meanz he iz also d8in’ her, duzn’t mean the same 4 me.

    i know it sucks havin’ 2 feed the vet clinic animalz & clean the cagez by urself evn tho it’s canada day 2morrow, cuz sum1 hazta do it. well, u & i rilly know it’s cuz u had that blow-up w/the vet. thass not ur fault. how were u2 know that ur mom told the vet the story ‘bout u & ur bunny, mr. b, & made it out like u were rilly opinion8ed ‘bout euthanasia?

    neway, i figgered it out & u can still come 2 the concert aftah work. the concert is not till l8. u can help me do sound, evn if u can’t get there till ur done w/the animalz. i’ll save a spot 4u. i promise.

    don’t b mad. i luv u. not becky. pleez call me & let me know ur not still mad.

  • At 7:23 PM, Blogger howard said…


    Since we live so close, I thought I would let you know my wife Beatrice and I did overhear your mother and Connie Poirier in Connie’s garden having a conversation somewhat related to your brother’s topic of the day. She and Connie had a little argument about locks on a washroom. Apparently your mother is of the opinion that young people should be trained not to enter washrooms where the door was closed so that if an emergency did happen in the bath, someone could easily come into the washroom and rescue them. Apparently Connie was of the opinion that it was more important to keep privacy with young children in the house than to worry about possible emergencies, and the door to the washroom should be locked if you were in the bath.

    We didn’t think anything about this conversation until we were passing by your house and saw your niece and nephew were in the yard obviously in shock. We took them to our house and treated them and they have been playing with my daughters for the rest of the day. When your brother came to pick them up, they ran up to him and said, “Daddy!! We know! We know! Sorry, Daddy! Sorry when you were 5, Daddy!!” My guess is that they heard your brother’s story today and wanted to see for themselves. My heart goes out to them.

    Howard Bunt

  • At 9:18 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    jeremy, sorry, i only just saw yr comment. i m not mad. @ least not @ u. i'm totally mad @ my mom 4 saying that stuff 2 the vet. she shd never talk. i will def. come by and help after i get off from work.

    howard, it was nice of u 2 look after robin an' merrie like that, when they were so freaked out.


  • At 10:04 PM, OpenID patrickrsghost said…

    Poor Robin and Merrie. They'll be scarred for life now.

    I remember accidentally walking in on my friend's grandmother when we were staying with her for a couple of days during the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta. I had won two free tickets to a baseball game during the Games (USA vs. Japan, USA won), and his grandmother lived about a mile away from the baseball stadium where they were held. I thought it a good idea to just stay with her for a couple of days, and that way we could just take a cab to the stadium and a cab back.

    One day I had to use the bathroom, and saw that the bathroom light was off, and that the door was cracked only a few inches. I began to open the door, and saw she was still in there, on the toilet, completely undressed.

    I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put that image into your brain. I have a few gallons of bleach here, if you need them.

  • At 12:31 AM, Anonymous michael patterson said…


    Formerly little sis. Just the other day I thought I was alone and after drinking a particularly bubbly glass of pop, I decided to see if I could still burp the way I used to when I was 5. I must say, that even in my 30s, I still have it. However, my wife, the lovely Deanna, felt the need to track me down and inform me that I was not to make those disgusting noises, in case I set a bad example for my children. It reminded me of a very similar incident from when I was 5.

    I was wearing a Hawaii shirt, and I had just clipped the fingernail of my right thumb so it was especially square. Then I drank from my Fizzo Pop can a good drink of carbonated delight. With my tongue out, as if I were laughing, I said, “Burp..Burp…Burp! {A triple lead-in.} BRAAACK!” complete with drops and bubbles. It was quite stupendous. Mom came up to me and said, “Michael! You are not to make those disgusting noises!”

    Then she took my pop can from me and said, “I don’t want to hear that again…do you understand?” Down and dejected, I went to pick dandelions with Lawrence Poirier, and lie in the grass and look deep into his eyes and discuss my troubles as 5-year-olds are wont to do. I said to Lawrence, “Gosh, Lawrence—How can a guy get good at something if they don’t let you practice?”

    It was a younger and more innocent age, and of course I know the answer to that question now that I am older. The answer is university and beer. That is where I honed my burping skills. I can recommend it to you. I certainly hope you will develop that as a skill instead of doing as Elizabeth did in university, where she tended toward developing the skill for getting hangovers.

    Michael Patterson


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