Who is Nuts, Exactly?

So I spoke to my mother again yesterday.  I'm trying to be a good son by calling a few times a week.  SuperK thinks I'm nuts for calling that often.  She thinks I'm nuts about a lot of other things, too, but that's a topic for another day, probably tomorrow.  The calls never go that well.  My father hasn't spoken to me on the phone for a year -- he doesn't like to talk on the phone -- and my mother seems to labor through the conversations, somewhat.  I'm not entirely sure why I call.  I don't enjoy it and I'm not sure that they do, either.


There's a good episode of "Seinfeld" where George reveals that he writes down notes containing several topics before his weekly call to his parents.  One of his topics, for instance, is why Bosco is an under-appreciated drink.  Eventually, his parents admit that they hate the phone calls -- they lie about other engagements to avoid talking to him and even move to Florida to escape his hectoring.


I started writing letters to my folks about 10 months ago.  I'll add a few paragraphs every other day or so about nothing in particular.  They really seem to like these.  I guess I should be writing letters and giving them a break with the phone calls that no one seems to enjoy.  I guess this is another instance of me deciding how the universe should make sense and then getting upset when other people don't buy into my construction.


Anyway, I'm going to share a few snippets from yesterday's call.  I add these not as a criticism but to demonstrate to myself that some of what I am was installed by others and then reinforced vigorously for years and years.  That and because it really is criticism, which I enjoy so much; my saying it's not criticism doesn't make it so.  I can tell the cops I only had two beers but that doesn't change the facts.


My parents are worried about the flu so they're not leaving the house to avoid any possible contact with the virus.  There's something reasonable in this -- they are pretty old and the flu can be dangerous to the elderly.  But it seems so over the top.  How long does the flu season last?  4 or 5 months?  That's a long time to avoid human contact.  To me that sounds like saying: "I'm not going to drive because I could have an accident" or "I'm not going to eat anything because I could choke."


The really revealing comment was my mother sharing that a good friend of theirs goes to Florida every winter and stays with her son who has a small sailboat.  There's snow on the ground in The Old City and I think the temperature dropped into the single digits last night so I remarked that a trip like that sounded pretty nice.  I'd go down and stay with the guy, for god's sake.


"I don't know," my mother said doubtfully.  "A storm could come up and you could be swept overboard."  It reminds me of the time I told her about some hiking I was going to do and she recounted a story of someone getting mauled by a bear, somewhere else, a long time ago.  Whenever I travel she trots out a ready to go list of tragedies that have struck unprepared tourists like a crack of lightning.


Be afraid.