Only if it works. No other reason to do stuff like that. Kids are so easy to get under their skin. fun
The Devil’s great-great-grandmother?
My mom does something somewhat related. She’ll call me, all aghast, to tell me that someone I’ve never heard of died.
Mom: Overly, it’s tragic. Just so tragic.
Me: What’s wrong? Are you ok?
Mom: It’s PersonIVaguelyRememberHerMentioningOnce. Her great-great aunt died!
Me: Oh.
Mom: Overly! How can you be so cold?
Me: I’m sorry, Mom, but I’ve never met her before. It’s a shame that she’s passed away. Were you very good friends?
Mom: Friends? I’ve never met her. You know that.
Me: Um, okay. Why are you upset again?
Mom: How dare you take this so lightly! I thought you would want to write a condolence card.
Me: But, I didn’t know her and neither did you.
Mom: That’s not the point. I just don’t know what to do with you and your sister these days. It’s like young people suddenly don’t care about anyone but themselves.
Me: Um…
Mom: Well, I’ll be going to visitation tomorrow and the funeral the day after. I love you, sweetie. I’ll tell PersonIVAguelRememberHerMentioningOnce hello from you and send your condolences. Bye!
I’m not sure if this is necessarily a function of her age or if she’s just extremely dramatic, but I think it’s a combination. She definitely spends more time than she used to reading the obits and participating in what appears to be practically recreational grief. I’m sure I’ll be doing something similar as I get older, too.
Hey, sister! I had no idea that you post on this message board, too. Good to see you. 
Oh, I love the “Oh you remember so-and-so!” stories, where so-and-so is someone from their church, which I have not attended in over 25 years.
No, I don’t know that person. Please stop telling me all about complete strangers, their kids, their cousin’s dog groomer and sundry other people I’ve never met and don’t care about.
Heh. My mom will tell a story where knowing the person involved DOES NOT MATTER. And she’ll say “I heard the funniest thing happened to Dottie… you remember Dottie, right?” And damned fool me will say no. Holy Christ, you know what’s next. “Oh, YOU remember Dottie. She’s Lucille’s mother in law, she always wears those amusing hats, you used to play in the sandbox with her great-grand-nephew Snotty…” and she WILL NOT STOP until you say that yes, you remember Dottie. And then the story turns out to not at all be dependent on your personal knowledge of Dottie and her habits.
Some years back (mid- to late-'90’s), my mom- then and now happily married to my dad, as will become relevant shortly- accompanied her mother on a trip to Florida. At one point my mom suggested that they go to have a drink in this second-story bar/deck thing to enjoy the sunshine, feel the breeze, take in the ocean view, etc. After some oddly-intense resistance from my grandmother and some probing from my mom to find out what the big damn deal was, my grandmother blurted out “YOU CAN GO TRY TO MEET STRANGE MEN IF YOU WANT TO, BUT I’M NOT GOING!!!”
Why, at the end of the 20th Century, would a woman married for 35 years go to a public drinking establishment? The sunshine, the breeze, the view- nope, Grandma, you’re right, it’s gotta be the men.
Lucky. My stepmother used to do this, but saying, “Yes,” wouldn’t stop her.
“You remember Dottie Binghamton…”
“Yes.”
“…who used to wear the funny hats…”
“Yes.”
“…Lucille’s mother-in-law, who had the two white cats…”
“Yes, I remember her.”
“…she had a brother in the peace corps…”
“Yes! I remember her!”
“Well, I can see you’re emotional about this.”
My dad wears his pants pulled up high, but they’re not cut to wear that high, so he walks around with a permanent wedgie. When I ask him why, he says “That’s where you’re supposed to wear your pants at!”. Uh, no. They’re meant to be worn at the hips. If you want to wear pants that high, get pants cut for that height!
My dad is also incredibly stubborn about technology made after the late 70’s or so. He can’t understand how a DVD player works, doesn’t understand digital cameras, and proudly doesn’t know how a computer. He refuses to even sit at a computer, even to just look at something, and his defense of this is “I don’t know anything about that!” Yeah, you won’t know how it works if you don’t quit refusing to be near one. This may explain why he will ask somebody else to e-mail something, then say “You’d better call so-and-so and make sure that went through!”
My dad is only 59 years old.
There’s some sort of weird ancestral collapse here on the SDMB, because Zsofia, Chimera, lorene, Overlyverbose and I are all siblings.
My father refuses to change the clocks in April (or October). Since he lives in a different time zone, I make sure never to visit him in those months because I will get confused as to just what time it is.
I’m not sure if this reflects more on me than on him.
He is going to be 79 this year and has just started repeating stories within the same conversation or convos in close proximity to one another. It’s annoying, but I try to be patient. What gets me is his self-involvement. My kids’ OTHER grandpa died a few weeks ago and my dad sent them a condolence card… filled with how HE reacted to HIS grandpa’s death (down to what state he was in, where his sister was at the time and the train they took back for the funeral). My kids are 
as am I…
My mother is the one who will NOT:
Learn how to use a computer, even though she does massive amounts of genealogy.
Learn how to use a cell phone properly–as in how to hang up and/or charge the battery.
Learn how to (I am not making this up) use the TV. I spent my teenage-hood being called into the family room to change the channel on the small black and white set we had (no remote–no way could she use a remote). “I want to watch Carol Burnett. Make it do that, Rigby.” She was in her 40s then–she’s not about to learn it now… :rolleyes:
Learn how to use an ATM.
She has a Master’s degree, btw, and ran a few Emergency Depts and Prison Nursing Systems in her day. Go figure.
I’m 69 years old and I’m afraid to venture into the registry of my computer and I absolutely cannot design a functional database. I do wish someone would put me out of my misery since I am obviously unfit to live.
My mother-in-law does the “Remember Aunt Dottie?” thing to ME, when there is ZERO CHANCE of me knowing who Aunt Dottie is, because I only met her son 14 years ago and trust me, he doesn’t remember who freaking Aunt Dottie is either, so he certainly didn’t impart that information to me. But yet, every time she calls: “So, the Sorensens’ oldest son Bob was in a fender-bender last week!” WHO THE HELL CARES? I don’t know the Sorensens, I don’t know Bob, and I don’t care about these people! Why would she think that I did?!
She is also in the habit of sending us junk in the mail. Mind you, she lives 2000 miles away from us, so it is not an inconsequential amount of postage for this stuff. But like clockwork, every couple of months or so we get a package including all of MrWhatsit’s junk mail that has arrived at her house in the last two months – he hasn’t lived there since 1985, so the odds that something important will arrive for him there are approximately zero – and crap from her house that she “thinks we might like.” She sent me five identical brown tablecloths once. Another time I got a set of Indonesian batik muu-muus; you know, the type of house dress that a 65-year-old woman might wear around the house?
I feel kind of bad giving that stuff away (or just throwing it away) but I realized a long time ago that I have to be ruthless, or her crap will start filling up my house just the same way it’s filled up hers.
I am 26 years old and afraid to venture into my registry and I can’t design a functional database either. Maybe we can be executed together. You know, to cut costs.
Likewise! It’s good to know I’m not alone.
My mom called me today, practically hyperventilating, because she’d just broken up with her manicurist. Yeesh.
Dag Nab It! Up until now, I didn’t know that I was set in my ways (I do know that I’m “old”) Guess I better throw out my GPS, computer, digital camera, mp3 player, programmable watches, cell phone, and so forth. If only I had known earlier that I was stuck in the '50s. Think of the moola I coulda saved.
Yeah, I better start getting afraid of all those kids with their weird tattoos and bizarre hairdos and equality stuff etc. Because nothing good has happened in the last 5 decades.
Choose your “-isms” right here, folks!
Seriously, there are lots of older folks that don’t want change and have a difficult time with new technology and ideas. And there are a lot of folks in different age groups that think they have all the answers and don’t really want to know new things. I suspect it has always been that way. I even know college grads who haven’t picked up a book since they got their degree.
Cracked did an article called:“Six obnoxious old people’s habits explained by science.”
I called my mother (age 96 and a half) the other day and after a few seconds of introductory chit chat she said:
Mother: Oh, it’s you.
Me: Who did you think it was?
Mother: I thought it might be Carol Ann, but it was the other one.
Carol Ann is my sister’s alias. I am known as “the other one.”
Mother is a terrific example of optimism though. She has used a specific brand and color of face powder for decades – Coty’s Honey Beige. She was down to the last few speckles of it couldn’t find it anymore at the local stores, so I offered to shop online for it. Sure enough, I found it for half price which means it is probably being discontinued. I had it shipped to her. Now face powder lasts forever. But when mother found out that it was on sale and being discontinued, she asked me to order her an additional box!
She has been in a romantic relationship for the last ten years with a gentleman that she met in assisted care. They are as in love as any twenty-five year olds. He is ninety.
But before you youngsters find that disgusting, just remember, that old man was once a kid in the Navy in the South Pacific in WWII and later an airline pilot. In his old age he has no family left at all. None. I’m just glad that he and my mother are there for each other.
Oh, my parents long ago adopted the old peson philosophy of pre-planning the entire conversation and not allowing anything we say, no matter how important or pertinent the things we say are, get in the way.
They’re only in their 60s and it’s weird how people get old in different ways. For instance, they’re fine with computers, digital cameras, Blu-Ray players, iPods and any other technology you care to throw at them; indeed, my father is one of those guys with seven remotes for his entertainment system and only he knows the sacred patterns and incantations that will cause the television to go to the channel you want and the stereo to put out the corresponding sound.
But they’ve just recently totally lost all understanding of how to buy a car. I don’t know how this happened. They’ve bought cars before. Then they decided to buy a car for my sister and it totally flummoxes them. And the salesman talked them UP - he actually made them an offer higher than the all-in sticker price I got an estimate on at a different dealer - and they were going to pay it.
My husband does this and he’s not even 30 yet.