Stuart Jones’ Lessons Learned From Moving Back In With His Parents As an Adult During Covid
Stuart Jones has been living with his parents in Kelowna, British Columbia and wanted to share the absurdities of moving home as an adult. He’s also got a brand new album coming out on Monday. Whether you’re a pizza lover or politics junkie, there’s a joke for you on “By the Slice”, his debut album set for release on August 24th from 604 Records. “With his clever observations about life’s little nonsenses, Stuart’s style of comedy is made for a 2020 audience,” said Jonathan Simkin, President of 604 Records. “He’s not afraid to mock the dysfunction and absurdities of today’s world or poke fun at society’s sacred cows.
An established performer in the BC comedy scene, Stuart became Vancouver’s first ‘Roast Battle Champion’ and was a finalist in the 2019 ‘Yuk Off’ comedy competition. He has performed at the JFL Northwest Comedy Festival, the Kelowna Comedy Festival and independent shows up and down the West Coast.
OATS!
Breakfast everyday consists of porridge, but what kind of porridge? Regular or posh porridge (half milk, half water)? Steel cut, old fashioned, or quick? If it’s not sweet enough then I can stir in some of Father’s homemade granola. Maybe I’ll throw in a chunk of Rickety Uncle (which for some reason my parents insist on calling Wriggly Uncle). My parents go through oats so quickly that they buy them by huge bagfuls at a special bulk store. I think they have fooled the staff into thinking that they own goats.
There is only one rule when it comes to oats – NO OATS IN MEATLOAF. Mother put oats in meatloaf one fateful night back in 1994 and it was not well received. Ever since then every time she makes a meatloaf she jokes “Maybe I’ll put some oats in it again…”. Strangely, this cute family anecdote parallels the famous Taco Bell lawsuit of 2011:
After meatloaf dinner, sensing that oat levels are getting low, Mother will bake oatmeal cookies.
THERE IS NO GOOD TIME FOR NEIGHBOURS TO DO LAWN WORK
Regardless of the day or the time, the fact that any neighbour would try to do necessary yard work, makes my parents incredulous.
Anytime anyone starts up a lawnmower, weed wacker, or anything else that produces a hum or a buzz, my Mother will say something along the lines of “who mows their lawn at 11 o’clock on a Saturday morning?” or “who wacks their weeds at 4 o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon?”.
It could be National ‘Mow Your Lawn’ Day and my Father would still say “Who mows their lawn at… at… what time is it? Three forty-five on mow your lawn day?”
These complaints always follow the pattern of “who (VERB)’s their (NOUN) at (TIME) on a (DAY) (MORNING/AFTERNOON/EVENING)?”
This is not to say that they don’t like the neighbours, they are on good terms with everyone. They would just prefer that the neighbours let their backyards turn into jungles.
I CAN TRICK MYSELF INTO THINKING I OWN A HOME
Thankfully the global pandemic has made society less judgmental towards people of my kind; millennials who live in their parents’ basement. Over the months I’ve progressed from referring to home as “my parents’ basement” to “my house in Kelowna”.
When I was a teenager it felt like doing doing yard work or unloading the dishwasher was torture. Like I was some kind of Gulag prisoner who worked in exchange for room and board plus the occasional pack of Magic cards. Now when I do chores, it’s more of a flex. I can brag to people that I was mowing MY lawn the other day, or that I just bought dishwasher detergent for MY dishwasher so I could do MY dishes. Also, to be honest, after living without a dishwasher for so many years it feels GREAT to unload dishes. Even buying dishwasher detergent gives me an amazing feeling of confidence with grocery cashiers.
For years, the toilet downstairs didn’t flush properly. Instead of asking my Father to fix it, I FIXED IT MYSELF. Why? Because I’m an adult now, and one day I might inherit that awful toilet.
No longer do I do chores in exchange for Magic cards, now I do them out of pure joy… and because I can buy my own Magic cards.
COSTCO IS THE HOTTEST CLUB IN TOWN
With everything being shut down except for grocery stores, I found myself dressing up to go to Costco.
Finally, a reason to iron one of my shirts, put on my nice shoes, and shower.
It’s the only place where I get to see a human who is not an immediate family member.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll meet a lady with beautiful eyes (face masks enforced) and she’ll see me helping my elderly Mother with the grocery shopping. I’ll be carrying heavy bags of rice and flour to show off. We can exchange numbers and then we can meet for coffee in four months.
Our plan was to go late to avoid the busy period, but it turns out every genius in town had the same plan.
When we got to Costco the line up was around the building. There was security, stanchions, and an enforced dress code. A woman tried to cut in line a few carts in front of us. Myself and others all started saying “Hey! No budging!” until some roided-up douchebag turned around and angrily yelled “SHE’S WITH ME”. Jeez, relax buddy. Another guy in line said to us “my friend told me they have so much flour in there, all different types too!”.
The queue moved so slowly. What the hell were they doing up there? How does it take THAT long to check a Costco ID? Normally you can just flash it and walk in. Most of the time they don’t even ask for it!
Time was running out and we were terrified by the thought of leaving Costco without spending hundreds and hundreds of dollars.
The door guy wasn’t gonna let us in. He said it was at max capacity, but I think he was just on a power trip. Usually grocery store security guards are not high on society’s respect list, but now this guy was the gatekeeper to the hottest spot in town.
I told him that I was “in the industry” because I used to work at the Safeway down the block, so he let us in.
And then when we finally got inside, after ALL that trouble, the place was basically empty!
It was JUST like going to the club!
THIS WHOLE COMEDY CAREER IS MY PARENTS’ FAULT
My parents are both uniquely funny people and this has been a huge advantage. My Father has a dry, sarcastic sense of humour and Mother has great timing and delivery. Each of them could probably do a tight five. In fact, one of the best jokes in my album was made by my Mother. I almost feel like I owe her royalties.
While growing up, my parents made funny voices, made funny faces, and made me watch terrible British ‘comedy’ shows. Some of which were actually kind of funny.
In addition to this they have always shown total love and support. ALWAYS. I’ve quit well paying jobs and moved away several times to pursue this career and have NEVER received any push back. Not even once!
Like, come on guys! You’re supposed to say something like: “You’ll never make it. Get a stable job that you hate and do it until you die. NEVER chase after a dream! Now go unload the dishwasher!” But no, not them, all they ever gave me was unconditional love.
If it were not their sense of humour and unwaning support then I might have had a thriving career in the medical software industry, living in my own condo (with my OWN dishwasher), and painfully wondering about what might have been.
