Which reminds me

While I was living in California I recall telling the Delesies about having attended a camp meeting with a church near where I lived and there was this guy whose name I do not recall on the bus who monopolized my time on the way there or on the way home. He talked a lot but oddly I don't remember anything of what he said. I think that later he called me at home. I cannot remember if I gave him my phone number. Anyway, when he called me at home and monologued in his boring way I guess I gave him the chill treatment, just saying "Uhuh uhuh," because he suddenly asked if I was knitting something. I was working on a craft although not exactly knitting. Finally, I can't remember if I asked him not to call me again or something. I don't remember. Anyway, I mentioned this later in a conversation, as if narrating my long list of meeting boring male duds in my humorously self-deprecating way is a good way to fill time with conversation as I really don't have any news to speak of when people ask me whether I have met someone or am in a relationship or have something romantic in the works or anything else interesting in my life to talk about. Not really. I wish people would just not ask or else I just won't be going there again because, anyway, I cannot have my idiot aunts and uncles running my life behind the scenes. I have the most clueless idiot relatives, you would not believe, but in the past it seemed not wise or diplomatic for me to really explain this to just everyone. Family is more complicated than that. But in other respects I really do not have any need of these idiot aunts and uncles anyway. Their ostentatious display of wealth and Lutheran lukewarmedness does not impress. We are not intimidated by their huffing and puffing. We would spew them out of our mouths but then they would have no Christian witness, no example of lowliness and humble godliness to learn from, which we provide, and we do feel a certain sense of obligation to be a Christian witness in some sense to these pathetically godless, crude and vulgar uppity-up Delesie dogs to the extent possible, if possible, because we are related to them. I am just saying.