My old German grandpa was born in 1902. He grew up in the small German farming village of Hubertus, Wisconsin.
Of course he is dead now.
My German grandpa, who could speak fluent German, grew a large garden and made homemade dill pickles, pies, and an assortment of jams and jellies. I fondly remember the days where he slapped an old hat on my head and we went out to the field behind the backyard with Queenie the dog to pick currants. I usually stood in front of the the currant bush and slowly picked off the berries and stuck most of them in my mouth instead of in the bucket.
He would also give me glasses of well water from the tap. He said it was better than city water which was flouridated. He explained that they used to use flouride to kill the rats.
We would sometimes watch old movies together. He was fond of Mae West and W.C. Fields. W.C. Fields kind of resembled my grandpa.
Once while watching an old 1940s movie he started scoffing at a male movie stars hands. Perplexed, I asked him what was wrong with the guy’s hands.
He looked at me like he couldn’t believe what I was saying.
“His hands are lily white! And look how soft they are! That man hasn’t worked a day in his life!” He was totally disgusted.
He taught me how to play 8 ball on the slate pool table with leather pockets in the basement. He said I was a good shot and let me win.
I think of my grandpa when I look at Jared Kushner’s face and hands. I just know my grandpa would have laughed at him. So I knowingly nod to my grandpa and all my ancestors. This man is a complete dipshit, I say. He hasn’t worked a day in his life.
And never will. But he will clean up on all fake wars and all the days we have worked in our lives over the fake fiat currency these people love.
So screw them. Let’s have a good laugh and imagine them trying to farm.
We all have a good laugh at Jared and his fake Jew wife, Ivanka, staring at the dirt in their prissy clothes and manicured nails. Crying.
Me and all the ancestors smile at this vision. Can you imagine Jared and Ivanka farming? Or doing anything? #haha
One day my grandpa died and we all went to his funeral. He lay in a casket and had a smile on his face and was clutching a rosary. Which was odd because he never smiled. Or clutched a rosary. I did see him kneeling and praying by his bed once.
I then realized my real grandpa was gone.
One day my grandma said to me, while she was still alive, that we should go put flowers on my grandpa’s grave. I told her that grandpa probably would like some dill on his grave and would appreciate this special offering, since he loved to grow cucumbers and make dill pickles.
She looked at me totally disgusted…Maybe it was a Catholic thing…
But I just know my grandpa would be smiling at me and would have appreciated the gesture.