So 12, let me type that out T…W….E…L…V…E hours of driving with mi familia back from the land of our forefathers (we’re card carrying Cherokees, except for my white squaw wife who has been accepted into the clan through the sacred ritual of having put up with me for 20 plus years, but anyway I like to think of all native lands as those of my forefathers in a similar way that a dog knows the difference between the smell of coyote piss on a fire hydrant and that from another dog…this analogy is beginning to get a little out of hand and all I’m really trying to say is that this interconnectedness that I feel with other Native American’s is a lot like peeing on a fire hydrant…wait what I’m trying to say is I know when my cousin has peed on something and when some no account interloper with their small pox blankets and fire sticks has pissed all over my shit…pause for heavy breathing from literary rant…my point is retribution…no I mean interconnectedness…and of course in no way am I condoning any member of my family to start peeing on stuff…Josh I’m looking at you here). So here we all are strapped into the family truckster exiting the lands of the cousins of our forefathers and since I happen to be driving because as my squaw wife says “I have ‘control issues’” (I put the extra quotation marks in as a smart ass gesture) it gives me a lot of time to ponder the universe and my place in it. (By the way I still sleep with one eye open and have only ever received one blanket from the squaw that I immediately sprayed with Lysol to kill the small pox).
So this time is there, and my brain is there, and in between mental images of dragging the guy in the car blocking the passing lane from his car and delivering some sort of apocalyptic beating (like cruise control hasn’t been around for 50 years…Jesus Christo people learn to fucking drive) and laughing at the accountant motorcycle clubs (seriously don’t mess with the 1040EZ’s) riding the original route 66 that always seem to want to take up both lanes I guess so if there’s a wreck it’ll look more spectacular and RV’s with hashtags so we can follow their ‘great’ adventures virtually, like driving around in an RV isn’t virtual travel. Get out there in a real old fashioned prairie schooner cutting a path through the wilds of America…pissing on the fire hydrants of my people and then I’ll follow #BobandSherriLoveRVing (yes it really was Sherri with an ‘I’ but I don’t know if that was the exact hashtag and come to think of it I never really saw this Sherri…after 40 minutes of trying to get around them all I could see in the front cabin was a guy with one of those puffy little dogs sitting in his lap…Christ for all I know this guy may have been some sort of bestiality nut job and I just drove by and didn’t do anything to help poor little Sherri the dog spelled with an ‘I’…she looked so puffy and innocent)So like I said normal people thinking good, Andy alone with his thoughts while being subjected to the latest pop post-apocalyptic young adult book on Audible that we chose to listen to as a family unit (trust me when I say this…no man willingly subjects himself to teen harlequin romances for any reason other than to keep everyone else’s traps shut and give himself a little peace and quiet while the road unwinds beneath him…it’s like a little mental vacation…I’m definitely getting a small pox blanket for Christmas this year) and things start to get a little screwy.
First off the reason for the journey was to see the latest addition to our growing clan, a quite pink and if I’m perfectly honest very handsome young man named Benjamin Rider, my younger brothers new son or as I like to call him “The Heir to the Throne” since I myself have no male offspring and historically titles pass to the next oldest child’s son (just watch your back when playing with Marcus, my youngest brothers son, is all I’m saying Ben). His alternative name is Chalupa Batman because my sister-in-law had the misfortune of having intercourse with my brother in such a way that we found out about the coming birth just as we were catching up to that episode of “The League” where Taco gets to name the new baby (and for anyone who doesn’t watch The League shame on you…it is a masterfully crafted and timely piece of comedic genius that makes lots of hilarious dick and fart jokes…just watch it then defriend me if you decide it’s not for you…I don’t really mean that it’s just my inner Ruxin coming out). I’m not explaining any more League references by the way so if you want to know why a Taco gets to name a baby then you’ll just have to watch the show or google it. Ben, Benji, BenGee, Chalupa Batman, whatever you want to call him (and don’t think that there have not been agonizingly long group family texts about the subject which for a family spread across 3 time zones can get a little annoying at certain times of the day or night) I’m just saying he’s a good looking kid. He doesn’t really do much yet, in fact I’d go so far as to call him kind of a slacker, and the few suggestions I made about getting him on some sort of workout regime now might save Josh some trouble down the road went unnoted. Hey it won’t be me paying for fat camp if he keeps up this just lay around having someone feed me all day lifestyle. In a way I admire him for it but as a worker bee the only contribution I see him making to society right now is his undeniable cuteness. Damn it why do attractive people have life so easy.
Well let me tell you. No I’m just kidding. I’m just an ordinary guy doing ordinary stuff. Leading what some might call an ordinary life. Nothing exceptional here. No way. Just Mr. Ordinary. (come on guys there’s only so long I can fish for compliments…this passive aggressive stuff isn’t easy you know). So what’s that I here, “It’s not like you’re grotesque or anything.”. I’ll take that to mean I’m a solid 7-8 out of 10 then.
OK so way off track there. New baby. Long journey. Fun driving sleep deprived new parents crazy with funny kid names. Now everyone should be up to speed.
Where I’m heading here is family. I had a lot of time to think about family on this trip back. It’s amazing the shit you don’t realize that makes you a family until you start to really break it down. Summer and I didn’t become a family when we said “I do” but when we started to impact each other with all of the things we each brought to our new relationship from our old families. The first time she twisted a bag with a loaf of bread in it and then fed the top portion over the bag so you didn’t have to use a twist tie, I felt like the guy who just noticed the stars moved with the seasons or the guy who got to look at the Mona Lisa for the first time. I wanted to run home to my parents and tell them about all the wasted time we’d spent on searching for lost bread ties. I’d just been shown something new and incredible and today my girls close a loaf of bread just like that and not once have I raised my voice in anger over a lost bread tie. Point is Summer brought something into the family that although trivial made it better. I’m not sure what she’s learned from me except that anytime I ask her to pull my finger she already knows its too late and I’m just trying to lighten the mood before the odor strikes. I’m sure I’ve impacted her in other ways though. I just look at my kids and see parts of each of us and realize some day one of my daughters is going to marry some lucky guy and teach him to clear the room if she says “pull my finger” and that makes me proud.
But back to the newest family member. It was great seeing my new nephew, my niece and brother and sister-in-law and having some time to sit and just shoot the shit but as I sat there I started to notice things almost seemed not quite right. The kitchen drawers weren’t organized quite like I would’ve but I definitely knew where the spare trash sacks were. Some things looked familiar while other things where a little different. It wasn’t until the drive home and the free time to really think about it that I realized my brother had created a new family. He will always be my brother and we will always have shared moments that no other person will have had but he also probably doesn’t know the bread trick (unless that secret knowledge crept in from the sister-in-law’s side of the family).
We’ve been building these families for thousands of years. Somewhere back in time we were a pair of lucky monkeys that zigged when the not so smart monkey zagged and thus the first family tradition was born. Zig don’t Zag when being chased by something with lots of teeth. We’ve been building on this ever since. So I understand somewhat when people talk about ‘family values’ because change is hard but in reality it’s the change that we each bring to the arrangement that makes the whole thing better in the end. If people want to do things a little differently that’s ok with me. I’ve got some nephews and a neice out of the two new additions to my original family and I’m pretty fond of them.
So to Josh on the birth of your newest child congratulations on not only having a beautiful new son but a great new family. And if you haven’t shown Lyndsay what a ‘Dutch Oven’* is yet then now is the time while she’s still too sore to catch you. And thank you so much for sharing little Chalupa Batman with us for the week.
*’Dutch Oven’ is a traditional method of tricking your little brother into sticking his head under the covers after cutting a terrific silent but deadly fart and then holding them under the covers. I only put in this definition because I know some of you come from homes where you did not have the joy of an older brother to teach you such things.
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