Homo ewritus: The Chronicles of Craig

I was two when my parents got married.

I was three when they got divorced.

As a result, the idea of my mom and dad dating other people was not foreign. In fact, I often preferred when they were dating. Desperate boyfriends/girlfriends sometimes gave me candy!

And/or occasional molestation.

You win some, you lose some.

As I've previously mentioned, my mother was... what's the word? Oh yeah--

Crazy.

And for some inconvenient reason, she decided to seek out men with the same illness as her.

But there was no online dating around back then. No, this was pre modern internet. So she had to find another way.

Let me set the scene:

The year was 1997.

Will Smith was given the life-changing decision to play a steampunk cowboy.

This was the most interesting thing online.

And my mother contacted interested singles in her area through a primitive communication device.

Think Craigslist, but with less murder.

Appropriately, it was through this medium that Craig came to be.

Craig was crazy, but he was a whole lot of other things too.

1) Craig was bald.

2) Craig was approximately 100 feet tall.

3) Craig had a Sheriff mustache.

4) Craig was not a Sheriff.

5) Craig had an impressive collection of Japanese swords.

An identical representation of what Craig may or may not have looked like.

Craig was an ex-Marine who had decided to live in a secluded cabin in the woods.

Like all sane people do.

His bedroom walls were decorated like a murderer's Christmas tree.

A la the Unabomber.

And all the time he wasn't working out or, presumably, plotting to kill The Man, he was smoking dope and playing with his Wolfdog.

Boys will be boys.

Interestingly though, I kind of liked Craig. Yes, he was inherently terrifying, but what he lacked in mental health, he gained in fun points.

He was like a really, really big kid -- who had a Popeye tattoo and tubs of Redvines littered all over the house.

I enjoyed visiting Craig. Craig was pretty much a five-year-old trapped in Stretch Armstrong's body.

And I'm lib, so I respect that.

Unforunately, not everyone was so understanding of Craig's identity.

Todd was one such wet blanket.

Father? More like fascist.

Todd did not like when we spent time with Craig. He seemed to think Craig was potentially dangerous to our health.

He may or may not have been correct seeing as about a year into Craig and Shelley dating, he tried to kill Todd.

You see, my mom, as lovely and wonderful as she was when she wasn't crazy -- could be absolutely batshit insane when she was.

For some reason, when she was feeling a little on the Ono side--

--she would blame my father for her mental illness. It was during one such period that she decided to inform Craig that Todd was going to make her commit suicide.

Craig, an American hero, found this unacceptable.

So he packed up the Wrangler and headed over in the dark of the night.

I don't remember if Craig had a Wrangler, but if he didn't, he should have.

We were asleep, so he let himself in.

Todd was not expecting company.

A fight ensued that consisted, I imagine, mostly of Craig -- built like a linebacker -- screaming at Todd -- built like a scientist.

This did not happen.

This did.

Craig ripped the phone out of the wall and proceeded to strangle Todd.

He then uttered a line that has stayed in my family, passed down like an heirloom, ever since.

Craig shouted:

"I'M GOING TO RIP OFF YOUR HEAD AND SHIT DOWN YOUR NECK!"

Craig did not rip off Todd's head and shit down his neck, but he gave it the college try.

After causing quite the ruckus and waking up my brother and I, Craig then accidentally woke my neighbor who caught a peek of him strangling my father from the window.

This neighbor then decided it would be best to call the police.

Presumably for too much noise after 10 pm.

We weren't allowed to see Craig after that, which is kind of unfair when you take into account the fact that three different men have tried to kill Todd.