by TJ Seitz
people. He was a neutral fence rider through and through with no clear opinion about anything other than stating what would generally be considered polite and inoffensive.
He didn't know a lot of intimate things about his parents, siblings or family's past because he didn't think to ask. He only knew facts about their daily routines and what they told him. He had a well rehearsed series of polite questions he would ask almost everyone he met from a criminal to a saint and would sometimes take notes(which he would lose in the stacks of junk scattered all over his two residences). Some examples of his questions were, "Are you a native of this community? What is your vocation/what do you do for a living?" and "Are you a student? What are you studying?"
Vincent was humble and never pretended to be more than himself. He never pried and minded his own business but expected the same in return. He would politely avoid or change the subject when asked something too private.
He would remember the name of a little old lady who sold eggs house to house in his neighborhood during the early 1940’s or the color of a buddy's socks on the golf course six months ago but not something important or meaningful you told him two weeks ago.
He used to like to talk people's ears off. He frequently started discussions with the comments, "Not a very interesting story" or "To make a long story short." That statement was really contrary his intentions and really meant "To make a short story long." Talking to Uncle Vincent was like sailing with Magellan. Instead of circumnavigating the world, Vince circumnavigated conversations.
To make small talk Vince would sometimes pick modern slang words he was unfamiliar with and dwell on their meaning. Words like weird, tacky or nerd in a conversation would evoke the response of, "Now lets take that word 'geek' that you just used. What exactly does that mean?"
Uncle Vincent would repeat parts of recently completed sentences and phrases as quotes during inappropriate or illogical times. He would say things like, "I watered your QUOTE garden" or "I read the QUOTE user manual again."
During phone calls Vincent would introduce himself by saying, "Hello dear niece or brother-in-law. This is your dear uncle or brother-in-law calling." He would end conversations with, "Do you have any questions?"
When greeting family members, Vincent would put his arms straight out with his hands on their shoulders, instead of hugging them. Sometimes he would welcome his nieces or sister by puckering up his lips for a quick, tight lipped peck kiss and say, "Hello dear sister or niece." Then proceed to ask which route they took to get there (and predictable comment on his preferred route).
Vince claimed to never have a worry, just concerns. He had lots of health problems like emphysema and skin cancer but never let them bother himself or others. He simply slowed his pace down and compromised. Since he couldn't walk more than twenty feet without loosing his breath he would walk a little then rest or just drive as close as possible to his intended destination. When his glucose levels were high he'd stop eating sugar until the next test, test fine then go back to eating sugar again. He looked and sounded like a wreck with one foot in the grave but I quickly forgot that over time until he really did die
He was the king of procrastination and saying they he would do something and never get to it. He would frequently say, "Why do something today that can be done tomorrow." Vincent intended to do lots of organization but his homes were always a disaster until Ute, Mom or Chris and I his came to visit and cleaned up for him instead. He really hated the notion of throwing stuff out.
He knew his piles of junk bothered Chris. To push her buttons he'd factiously joke that he'd categorize recently acquired items under the first letter of what ever it was. "I'll file this old brochure on Toledo Ohio under 'B' for brochure."
One example of something he hoarded needlessly was a Red Lobster menu from the mid-1970's. He had the thing memorized and frequently quoted prices from it when eating at seafood restaurants. If he went to Red Lobster he would frequently taunt the waitresses with comments like the price of a shrimp scampi platter being $6.99 in 1974 but today its $17.99 or ask if they would honor the prices on an old menu.
Whenever anyone mentioned that they ate dinner/breakfast at Denny's he'd ask if them if they ordered the Grand Slam then state that the selection consisted of, 2 eggs, 2 pancakes, 2 sausage or bacon and juice or coffee.
On a visit to Florida Chris and Vincent went to Perkins for dinner. Vince's breathing problems prevented him from moving too fast. In many instances when he needed to go to the bathroom it became problematic because he could not move fast enough. This was one of those times. Instead of hustling to the restaurant bathroom just a few feet away Vincent relieved himself in an empty coffee can he kept in the back seat of his car, right there in public. Chris was both mortified and humiliated. Uncle Vincent accepted his behavior as just a reality of his condition and saw nothing wrong with it.
Vincent hated to bother people, including himself. I think he would have been perfectly content eating cereal and milk with a glass of water for breakfast lunch and diner, 7 days a week if he was allowed to.
Vince never wasted food. He could have easily thrown spoiled produce and baked goods out and replaced it all with a trip to the grocery store but he chose not to. He claimed it was because he lived through the Depression when food was scarce. His refrigerator was always full of overripe fruits and vegetables from the last visit Chris and I made. He ate stale and moldy bread by toasting it and scraping off the bad parts. He'd comment, "Mold, that's just penicillin."
Whenever we ate out for dinner Vincent would always bring half of it home for later, no matter how small the portion. This included mushy salads, rolls, butter and sugar packets.
On some occasions Vince would spontaneously comment, in hushed confidence, about his daily constitution. "Not a pleasant topic but that Madamusil stuff really worked well for me. Now I'm completely the other way and need Pepto Bismo."
My first impression of him was not good. He crapped his pants and left a brown stain on the seat of my brand new car. It happened soon after Chris and I started dating on the day she introduced him to me. We had just gotten back from a trip to Walmart. He acted oblivious to the whole thing and walked into the house and sat down in the kitchen as if nothing unusual happened.
After examining the spot more closely we determined from its smell and consistency that it was probably shit. She was embarrassed by the experience. It was a foreshadowing moment. She told me in disgust afterward that she didn't think he would live another five years if he continued to live his life so carelessly. She was right but only off a year.
He preferred to bath in aqua-velva over soap and water. Chris once asked him if he enjoyed feeling clean after a bath or shower. Dad responded, "Not particularly." He washed his tattered undersized clothing in styles from twenty years ago once a month whether they needed it or not. He ordered the same clothes and styles from mail order catalogues rather than going to the store. He washed his hats in the dishwasher.
Vincent slept in his parent's old room. His parents' clothes in the dressers and closets were left untouched over the years. Everything in the bedroom was left in place as it was when they were alive. Both of his parent's died in the early-1970's.
I always wondered why Chris' parents didn't throw the stuff out or donate it to the Salvation Army when they moved in. Chris said that her parents and aunt believed that the room was haunted. Both Oma and Opa died in their bed. I guess no one wanted to risk disturbing their spirits.
Uncle Vincent respected the room's sanctity by living around its contents. The old paintings and portraits on the walls and dressers were covered with dust and cobwebs. They had not been polished or cleaned for decades. He stored his day too day stuff in stacked boxes, milk crates and laundry baskets on the floor.
He was anally meticulous about performing regular preventative maintenance on mechanical things he owned like the car and lawnmower. He'd always ask u
s when the last time we checked the oil, air pressure in the tires or greased something's axle. It drove me nuts but he did have a legitimate point.
He was not the same when it came to caring for the house or himself. He'd get to those things only when pressured by someone or he could no longer work around the problem. When I started dating Chris six years ago the home in Bainbridge had a huge old stove in the kitchen where the lower oven section did not work. He'd use a small electric toaster oven instead. The wall paper was peeling in many rooms. The wires in live outlets and switches were left dangerously exposed. The upstairs bathroom sink had a leak that Vincent used a bucket to catch the water from and the tub needed re-caulking. The bathtub leak caused the plaster ceiling in the kitchen below to disintegrate in several places. He'd flush his broken toilets with buckets of water drawn from the bathtub instead of getting it fixed.
Uncle Vincent liked a warm plate for his food. In restaurants he would always comment on the temperature of the plate he received his meal on. To achieve the same effect at
