A Bad Idea I'm About to Do Read Online Free PDF

raised eyebrows thrown our way. Suspicions were being tossed toward Gregg with the subtlety of an early ’90s Jim Carrey movie.
    â€œWhy do they think that?” I asked. True, my brother was shy, and never had a girlfriend to bring around, but that was rooted in his status as a skinny weirdo who was obsessed with pro wrestling and geography, not in any disinterest in ladies.
    Gregg stared across the yard. Pa was seated in a folding chair, looking directly at us. Our grandfather laughed wildly and slapped his knee in obvious delight.

    â€œI’m pretty sure,” Gregg sighed, “that Pa told everyone I’m gay.” As the evening wore on, people began quietly asking me how I felt about my brother’s sexual awakening.
    â€œWell, the thing is,” I told one second cousin, “he’s not gay. I’m not really sure how that rumor started, but it’s not true.”
    â€œHuh,” my cousin grunted, his Jersey mullet catching the wind. “I don’t know.... ”
    My brother and Pa didn’t talk for years after that. It was only after Pa’s death that I got Gregg to admit that our grandfather’s prank was fucking hilarious.

    â€œH e was crazy,” I told my mother. “But at least he was crazy in a good way.”
    â€œYeah,” she said. “It’s not so bad. You just have to figure out how to be crazy in a good way, too.”

    M y greatest moment with Pa came when I was a sophomore in high school. It was that amazing time of year on the East Coast, those three or four days during fall when a cool breeze is already blowing but the sun is still shining, and the leaves have just about fully changed but none have fallen.
    I was on the phone in my bedroom, kicking it to a husky freshman named Melissa (who would inevitably turn me down), when I smelled a smoky odor wafting in through my second-floor window. I stuck my head outside and looked around the neighborhood.
    All seemed normal. In the middle of the street, Jerry Hubert was competing with Matt Kehoe and Nick Scagliozzi in a fierce
game of wiffle ball. In the background, I could see Pa doing a strange dance in his backyard. Par for the course.
    I continued flirting with the chunky apple of my eye. The smoky smell worsened, but I was in the zone, really working a good sophomore-in-high-school game, and didn’t pay it any attention until my mom charged up the stairs.
    â€œChris! Chris! Pa’s lawn is on fire! ” she screamed.
    I looked out the window again to see that Pa’s dancing had taken a turn for the worse. The kids had stopped playing wiffle ball and were gathered near his fence.
    â€œGo!” my mom said. “You have to help him!”
    I couldn’t figure out what my mother meant. His lawn was on fire? That concept made, and still makes, very little sense to me.
    â€œIs everything okay?” I heard Melissa’s distant voice ask. I brought the handset back to my ear and tried to sound as heroic as possible.
    â€œI’ll call you back,” I said in a half-whisper. “I’ve got to go save my grandpa.” My voice didn’t sound even vaguely heroic, as it still hadn’t changed by the age of fifteen.
    I flew down the steps and charged out the door. I headed straight across Mrs. Burns’s lawn and vaulted over Pa’s rusted chain-link fence in one leap.
    Foot-high licks of flame were rising out of my grandfather’s grass. It had been a hot summer and much of the yard was dead and browned. Pa was trying to stamp the flames away. I needed to get him out of there.
    â€œPa, come on!” I shouted. “We gotta call the fire department.”
    He looked me dead in the eye and replied, “Fuck you.”
    My jaw dropped. Did my grandfather just say fuck me? I looked at him, breathing heavily, staring me down. He had. He had definitely said fuck me.

    â€œI can handle this,” he continued, before turning around and stamping