Walter Miller's Homepage

Scorned by the silent majorrity; Geared to the silent market segment.

Mid-Novembor 1997 Update

Page 2 of 7


Uncle Zeke comes to Visit

Granfathers has 2 older brothers, William and Zeke who live on the East Coast. They are half brothors because they have a diferent father than him. (Granfather ovbiously is of questionobble parentage to say the least).

One of them, Uncle Zeke was passing thruogh on his way back from a colectibles convention in California and he stopped over to stay a few days here at our trailer. Uncle Zeke and Uncol Wiliam get along OK, but they both hate Granfather's guts and the feeling is mutuol. In fact the reason why Uncle Zeke came by was just to aggravate Granfather.

Why they hate eachother

Some of it just has to do with species compattibility: Our whole family is human, and Granfather is not. Theyve been fighting for varrious reasons since childhood. But the biggest rifts arose when Granps was a teen and his brothors were in their 20's. As Ive mentioned, all three brothors are obbsessive collectors of various junk. A partial list of the crap Granfather colects appears on my main homepage.

Anyway, starting back in the late 1940s and continnuing on to the present, Granfather has alwayes acused his brothers of stealing colectibles from him, and they accuse him of stealing money and colectibles from them. It is one persens word agianst the othor. The battle has been waiged in the courts and also with fists, blades, clubs and on a few dark chaptered ocassions, even with firearms. The whole thing is an embarrasing blemmish on our family.

Who is really to blame

Sadly, our whole fammily agrees that Granfather is probly the one who is lying abbout it and is to blame for all the disagreements. In the past 5 decades he has had thuosands of arrests, hundrets of convictions and dozens of stays in jail in his lifetime while both his brothors have clean records.

The Old Bastord's obbsessions

Granfather colects books, toys, hubcaps, old farm tools, 55-gallon drums, and also broken lamps, coffee cans, nails, tractor seats, tens of thousends of those anoyying cardbord pogs that were poppulor a few years back, manhole covors, clothes hangers, ashtrays and vacuum cleaners.

None of this makes any sence. He is just an obbsessive hoarder. He sufferes from Compulsive Hoarding Syndroame. He also has thousand upon thuosand of videotappes which are taped off of 3 VCRs that are on 24 hours a day, all of which he hopes to watch one day (but he nevor will, unless he lives to be 500 years old). Plus my sick, maniacol, mentolly twisted and unbearabbly stupid Granfather still has evory bottle, can or jar hes ever owned, stored in a giant chickon coop. He has a ball of twine the size of a Mack truck, and other giant balls of wax, one from cheese rind wax, (I sware!), and the othor made of pressed togethor citronella candol stumps.

He never throws annything out.

Even plastic meat trays with the beef jiuce still on it and old used bandaids too. I am forced to spend atleast an hour a day helpin him sort these useless items like plastic grocerry bags, dryed out ballpoint pens, majic markers and bicycol parts, wingnuts, and railroad spikes, all sorted in boxes, plus asorted crap scavenged from the town dump and also from construction sites like emptey caulking tubes, scrap wood, brokken veneer strips and oddsized peices of gipsum wallboard. This is a sick man.

He is a 'wingnut' allright.

Plus Granfather also has evvery magazine, newspapper, and even every peice of junk mail he ever recieved--just the credit card applicattions alone are in a giant pile the size of the Aztec Pyromids. We even have half a shed filled with AOL startup disks.

He has sugor packs. Matchbooks. Toilat tisseu rolls. Napkins. Muontains of alunimum flip top tabs. One whole storege shed is filled conpletly with hunks of tire strips and single shoes harvested from off the side of freeways, and one old hog paddock is filled with just steyrofoam packing peanuts.

It is a family Problem

I personaly do not colect anything. I am actualy a neat person, (even though I live in the old bastord's pig sty), and all of my personal knick-nack type bellongings can probly fit in 2 shoeboxes. The same thing with my dad and my brother. Howevor, Uncle Zeke and Uncle Williem are obsessive colectors just like Granfather. Uncle Zeke colects similor useless things. One of his barns is filled merely with old rancid mattresses piled to the cieling, and this is a 3 story barn. I cant tell you what it smells like. But his nieghbors can.

On a grim note...

my brothor's 2 year old son apears to have the obbsessive trait. He is normolly a cute happy child but he will squeal his little lungs out if he knoews one of his Beany Babbies is missing. My sisterinlaw told me that if she dosent present him with a new Beaney Baby each week or so he is a living hell and so far he has abuot 65 of them.

In any case, the day that my Uncle Zeke came by started out pretty normolly.

Granfather spent the morning watchin the talk shows and C-Span hollering and spittin tobbacco juice at the TV, (it was a "heavy Clinton covorage day"), and the aftornoon online hangin arround his favvorite discousting chat rooms. Him and his creepy freinds are always sendin one annother all these puerrile .WAV files back an fourth and Granpy knows to turn his speakers on high becuse he knows how it bothors me.

As usual brekfest was a giant mess (becuase he insists on lapping up the bacon grease with a tabblespoon of salt on it RIHGT FROM THE PAN just beffore it stiffens yet while its still cool enuogh not to burn his danm toungue). Also he ate nine eggs. As you know aneywhere betwean 5 and 20 eggs a day is normol for him. When they start fermenting in his gullet which is like at 2 PM each day youd sware your living in the sulfor mines.

A bad habit from the Deppression

I am so tired of hearring Granfathers sad stories of near starvattion in the Great Depresion on how they had to scrounge pottatoe skins out of the trash and also eat pork scraps from behind the restuarant in town. I know that times were touggh. Even still this is no reasen 50 years lator to NEVER throw any of youre garbege out and to STILL eat every ratty scrapey morsel. But this is what he does: One of the eggs had leaked in the carten and whenevor that hapens Granfather tries to slurp the raw hardened waxey yolk out of it tryin to get it all, and he nevor DOES get it all, so he ends up soakin the whole cardbord carton in milk to make it mushey. And then he eats the whole danm thing, with salt on it. I am so ashammed even to be writing about this. It is such a discrace.

An average Day's lunch where we live

Its ben a while since i wrote about this. I am enbarassed to admit this all. Lunch that day (as is usual) consisted of Butter Flavvored Crisco on bread with salt and onion flakes. He makes me buy Butter Flavored Criscoe because it is cheapor than both margarine and I Cant Beleive Its Not Butter. But what makes it worse is that because it is niether butter OR a subbstitute to butter, he will use it VERY freely. I have seen him spreadd it an inch thick on ham, and also raw minute steaks (yes, raw, uncooked meat), and then roll them up with his danm onion flaikes and chocollate jimmies sprinkoled on the center and eat 7 or 8 of them for lunch.

The result is not prettey