Tuesday, October 22, 1985, Before school
So I didn't fit another entry in yesterday, so sue me! Aaah! Why am I getting angry at a machine?
I must be feeling some of that inherited stupidity again.
Well, Dad showed up again last night. He's the main reason that I couldn't write in my diary
again. After dinner, he suggested a Clue tournament, which we were busy at half the night. Dad
won every game. It was so annoying. He kept making these absurdly wild accusations . . . and
being right. Lucky guy. Anyway, enough excuses. Now that I'm here, I may as well tell a little
more about our quality time:
Dad: Why don't we have a Clue tournament?
Zak: Alright! I love Clue.
Me: OK.
2 minutes into the first game.
Dad (as Mr. Green): I've got it! It was Miss Scarlet in the Billiard Room with the Lead Pipe.
Mom passed him a card
Dad: Oh. Well, would you believe . . . the Candlestick? (Obviously, she had disproved his choice
of weapon)
Zak (Professor Plum) and I (Mrs. Peacock) marked on our scorecards that Mom had the Lead
Pipe.
Next turn:
Dad: I think it was Miss Scarlet (Mom's pawn. I think he liked dragging her around the board) in
the Library with the Revolver.
No one was able to prove him wrong.
Dad: Aha! I'm going to make an accusation! It's Colonel Mustard in the Conservatory with the
Rope.
He looked in the confidential envelope. He was right!
Mom: Oh, Max! You're so clever! How did you figure it out?
Dad: Easy, 99. I HAD the Library, the Revolver, and Miss Scarlet, so by process of elimination . .
. Gee, 99, how DID I figure that out?
The three of us rolled our eyes. It just wasn't fair! He wasn't even playing the game correctly and
he won! You aren't supposed to guess the cards you have unless you are trying to bluff someone.
How infuriating! You can guess the way the remainder of the evening went.
I need to get ready for school.
Mrs. Peacock (aka Maxine)
After School
"'Tis a gift to be simple, 'tis a gift to be free . . ."
That's right. Today was music day, and we sang, played instruments, and attended a symphony
right in our own school. Again, better than regular school, but very taxing on the ears . . .
Of course, not as taxing as the sound of Dad practicing his Career Day speech in the other room.
I think he just said something like: "Friends, students, countrymen, lend me your ears!" Groan.
Now I'm beginning to wish that he wasn't doing it at all.
Maybe I'm being unfair. Maybe it's because of Freda. Maybe it's because Zak was shoved in his
locker again today. For whatever reason, I absolutely HATE my Dad right now. I think the most
likely explanation for my ill mood is that Dad is leaving again after tomorrow and won't be back
til after Christmas. He doesn't even have the decency to be with his family over the holidays. I
found this out over breakfast this morning and I haven't spoken to my father since. He says that
he's trying to jump start his CONTROL stock, but do I believe him? Hell, no! He's probably got a
girl in every port.
Speaking of ports, Freda's dad won't be coming in from his cruise ship for the holidays either so I
asked Mom if we could invite her and her mother for Thanksgiving. Of course, I didn't tell her
Freda's full name, and she agreed. I didn't want to take the chance that she'd tell Dad we were
having GERMANS over for Thanksgiving and have him wreck the whole thing. I only hope she
won't be angry with me when she finds out.
Well, I need all the rest I can get before the big day tomorrow.
Maxi (I-Wish-I-Wasn't) Smart
So I didn't fit another entry in yesterday, so sue me! Aaah! Why am I getting angry at a machine?
I must be feeling some of that inherited stupidity again.
Well, Dad showed up again last night. He's the main reason that I couldn't write in my diary
again. After dinner, he suggested a Clue tournament, which we were busy at half the night. Dad
won every game. It was so annoying. He kept making these absurdly wild accusations . . . and
being right. Lucky guy. Anyway, enough excuses. Now that I'm here, I may as well tell a little
more about our quality time:
Dad: Why don't we have a Clue tournament?
Zak: Alright! I love Clue.
Me: OK.
2 minutes into the first game.
Dad (as Mr. Green): I've got it! It was Miss Scarlet in the Billiard Room with the Lead Pipe.
Mom passed him a card
Dad: Oh. Well, would you believe . . . the Candlestick? (Obviously, she had disproved his choice
of weapon)
Zak (Professor Plum) and I (Mrs. Peacock) marked on our scorecards that Mom had the Lead
Pipe.
Next turn:
Dad: I think it was Miss Scarlet (Mom's pawn. I think he liked dragging her around the board) in
the Library with the Revolver.
No one was able to prove him wrong.
Dad: Aha! I'm going to make an accusation! It's Colonel Mustard in the Conservatory with the
Rope.
He looked in the confidential envelope. He was right!
Mom: Oh, Max! You're so clever! How did you figure it out?
Dad: Easy, 99. I HAD the Library, the Revolver, and Miss Scarlet, so by process of elimination . .
. Gee, 99, how DID I figure that out?
The three of us rolled our eyes. It just wasn't fair! He wasn't even playing the game correctly and
he won! You aren't supposed to guess the cards you have unless you are trying to bluff someone.
How infuriating! You can guess the way the remainder of the evening went.
I need to get ready for school.
Mrs. Peacock (aka Maxine)
After School
"'Tis a gift to be simple, 'tis a gift to be free . . ."
That's right. Today was music day, and we sang, played instruments, and attended a symphony
right in our own school. Again, better than regular school, but very taxing on the ears . . .
Of course, not as taxing as the sound of Dad practicing his Career Day speech in the other room.
I think he just said something like: "Friends, students, countrymen, lend me your ears!" Groan.
Now I'm beginning to wish that he wasn't doing it at all.
Maybe I'm being unfair. Maybe it's because of Freda. Maybe it's because Zak was shoved in his
locker again today. For whatever reason, I absolutely HATE my Dad right now. I think the most
likely explanation for my ill mood is that Dad is leaving again after tomorrow and won't be back
til after Christmas. He doesn't even have the decency to be with his family over the holidays. I
found this out over breakfast this morning and I haven't spoken to my father since. He says that
he's trying to jump start his CONTROL stock, but do I believe him? Hell, no! He's probably got a
girl in every port.
Speaking of ports, Freda's dad won't be coming in from his cruise ship for the holidays either so I
asked Mom if we could invite her and her mother for Thanksgiving. Of course, I didn't tell her
Freda's full name, and she agreed. I didn't want to take the chance that she'd tell Dad we were
having GERMANS over for Thanksgiving and have him wreck the whole thing. I only hope she
won't be angry with me when she finds out.
Well, I need all the rest I can get before the big day tomorrow.
Maxi (I-Wish-I-Wasn't) Smart