We’re not the type of folk to invite drama. We have good avoidance techniques. Growing up in jersey, you know people, who invite conflict no matter how banal the situation. I’ve seen punches thrown in movie theaters, red lights, restaurants, and weddings. Not allowing minor situations escalate to big bulky time wasters is an artform.
But just as you pat your back for doing the right thing, you realize you’re wrong. You realize in a Kaizer Soze type moment you living the drama.
Pretend you are a Hollywood producer and I’m pitching you a show. I guarantee you it has more drama than Entourage. It’s about a family hurtling through time, living in the wrong town, in the wrong state. They have eight months to kill debt, collect funds and allies, all while finding a new home, a new career before they lose their sanity, their health and any chance for a normal life.
What do you think? Are you buying? You ask is there a love interest? Sure there is. She’s a petite, post-grad who can bench press a couch. You need comedy? There are the twin boys – one is a jicama loving, long hair sporting one and the other is the quiet acrobat. Don’t forget Milo, their talking dog. Well, the dog can’t talk but he can get de-beer a fridge and that’s better anyway.
So you’re interested but need an ending. There’s not one written as it hasn’t happened yet. But wait! Don’t turn it down. Not yet. I’ll write you an ending. In fact, I’ll pen it to paper right here.
So, check this out. The husband and wife are in love, earn good money but don’t pay attention where their money goes for a decade. They have a house at the shore, and office and another house. They eat organic peanut butter and bread with not four, not five…not even six grains, but seven whole friggin grains. They’re living large in a small way. I mean their kids eat brie, but they’re not going to Hawaii or Disneyworld on a whim.
Then one-day reality sets, the parents realize their kids will eventually need school. Before kids, homeschooling seemed reasonable. Before kids, a lot of things made sense, like sleep and showers. Now their kids know five syllable words but live in a place surrounded by retirees and no sales tax. Never future-minded, this team suddenly needs to write a script for the next eighteen years. They need to move. But where?
Here’s a hint. Everything on this plate is can be made there.
Brown Gold
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