Moms, Daddums, and my ass went to the family reunion yesterday, and my Great Aunt Merle, who is 90 years old, decided to bump herself up five more years, as if 90-goddamn-years-old is NOT DAMN OLD ENOUGH. When I told the Moms that Aunt Merle was 90, Aunt Merle said, "Actually I'm 95." The Moms mouthed (NINETY) to me, while standing behind Aunt Merle.
Fuck it, I say. If you're 90-damn-years-old, you may as well be 95 or 100. It's sort of immaterial and not like lying to stretch that shit a bit.
Aunt Merle crochets tiny little baby blankets for the infants who die, while trying to be born, at the hospital where her daughter works. Isn't that nice? She said that some people advise her that she is wasting her time, since the infants are dead anyway, and they don't know the difference between a cozy blanket and shinola, but I told Aunt Merle that I thought that was a bunch of damn bullshit. Merle said at her age (95), she doesn't really give a rat's ass what people think. Good for her!
One other cousin (I forget his name, because I don't much like him) has only one leg. He was in a motorcycle accident of some sort. He had a prosthesis, but never liked wearing it, so he had one of those motorized scooters. When he went to leave, he stowed the damn scooter in the back of his van and then hopped on one leg around to the driver's side. This cousin is nice enough, but sort of a damn blowhard, so I avoided him. I don't like to converse with loud types. They irritate piss out of me.
Another cousin, Butch, started telling me about how his daughter's were all sluts and only one daughter out of "the whole damn bunch" had married well. He even went on to lament that he had a little "nigger grandbaby" that he didn't even acknowledge. I wasn't brave like my friend Ms. Moon, and I didn't want to disrespect the damn pinhead, so I just acted like I was interested in some photos that my cousin Sue Lynn was passing around and moved the hell away from Butch's dumb ass.
My Uncle Doyle was there, too, but he had the oxygen on. He was a WWII vet, and he stopped at a McDonald's outside the park to pick a sandwich up. We had plenty of scratch-cooking food to eat, but his ass hadn't contributed to the meal, so he wasn't going to damn well mooch, by God.
The Moms said that Doyle's generation was just like that--they didn't mooch--and they always expected to contribute. This made me feel REALLY BAD about being a part of Generation X, because we are all a bunch of damn losers and slackers. Uncle Doyle's generation was THE GREATEST GENERATION, and my generation is THE LOSERIEST GENERATION. Also, we dress poorly.
We had only about 14 people total at the reunion. I was the only semi-young person there. There wasn't even one damn toddler or infant. That shit was depressing.
What the hell's wrong with young people (or even middle-aged people) that they don't want to know their extended family? [If you're a damn ignorant bonehead who doesn't attend family reunions, maybe you can tell us all why. We won't judge.]
Fuck it, I say. If you're 90-damn-years-old, you may as well be 95 or 100. It's sort of immaterial and not like lying to stretch that shit a bit.
Aunt Merle crochets tiny little baby blankets for the infants who die, while trying to be born, at the hospital where her daughter works. Isn't that nice? She said that some people advise her that she is wasting her time, since the infants are dead anyway, and they don't know the difference between a cozy blanket and shinola, but I told Aunt Merle that I thought that was a bunch of damn bullshit. Merle said at her age (95), she doesn't really give a rat's ass what people think. Good for her!
One other cousin (I forget his name, because I don't much like him) has only one leg. He was in a motorcycle accident of some sort. He had a prosthesis, but never liked wearing it, so he had one of those motorized scooters. When he went to leave, he stowed the damn scooter in the back of his van and then hopped on one leg around to the driver's side. This cousin is nice enough, but sort of a damn blowhard, so I avoided him. I don't like to converse with loud types. They irritate piss out of me.
Another cousin, Butch, started telling me about how his daughter's were all sluts and only one daughter out of "the whole damn bunch" had married well. He even went on to lament that he had a little "nigger grandbaby" that he didn't even acknowledge. I wasn't brave like my friend Ms. Moon, and I didn't want to disrespect the damn pinhead, so I just acted like I was interested in some photos that my cousin Sue Lynn was passing around and moved the hell away from Butch's dumb ass.
My Uncle Doyle was there, too, but he had the oxygen on. He was a WWII vet, and he stopped at a McDonald's outside the park to pick a sandwich up. We had plenty of scratch-cooking food to eat, but his ass hadn't contributed to the meal, so he wasn't going to damn well mooch, by God.
The Moms said that Doyle's generation was just like that--they didn't mooch--and they always expected to contribute. This made me feel REALLY BAD about being a part of Generation X, because we are all a bunch of damn losers and slackers. Uncle Doyle's generation was THE GREATEST GENERATION, and my generation is THE LOSERIEST GENERATION. Also, we dress poorly.
We had only about 14 people total at the reunion. I was the only semi-young person there. There wasn't even one damn toddler or infant. That shit was depressing.
What the hell's wrong with young people (or even middle-aged people) that they don't want to know their extended family? [If you're a damn ignorant bonehead who doesn't attend family reunions, maybe you can tell us all why. We won't judge.]
18 comments:
"I don't like to converse with loud types. They irritate piss out of me."
This may lead to problems with us conversing in real life. As was mentioned again this weekend, I have naturally effective acoustics.
DTG,
With you, it will be well worth it.
I love you Uncle Hank!
I've never been to a family reunion, but I always wanted to go to one. All my first cousins are either a lot older than I am (10 years +) or much younger (10 years +), depending on which side of the family we're talking about.
Hey SB
I am an ignorant bonehead who does not attend family reunions because she does not want too. I did not choose these people, nor do I want to know them. I prefer 8 hrs of driving school on a Saturday. Would I eat their food? Umm, that would be a BIG no! From the Uncle who only has one tooth left to the alcoholic nephew and his fat wife who supports him to the great uncle who is smoking his way into the grave...I say "it's much nicer not knowing you, now have a happy life". And there are no babies or toddlers or angst-ridden teens at these functions either. I think its all the relatives who can't get a date who show up; not implying anything re: you SB! Love, Debbi
SB,
I just want to say I love you. I love your whole damn family. I'm also thinking that since I think of you as family, and as we have another new person in our family, we need to have a family reunion down here. One in which you come and not so much all my blood relations.
Love,
May
So have you read Handling Sin yet? I swear, your family is in that book.
And yes, Uncle Hank is loud but that's okay. His words need to be listened to.
Steph,
That made me laugh. You know it's true about most of us, girl!
Admit that shit right now.
Love,
SB
Gingermagnolia,
You are family to me. You can come to mine next year if you want. At least I'd have somebody there more my age.
Love,
SB
Debbi,
I guess I don't blame you--sounds really bad. Thanks for answering my ending question. Usually no one answers.
I love you. Hope all is well.
SB
May May,
I'm planning on visiting in May. [Obviously, May is our word for the day.] Wish it could be sooner, but I need to pay my shitting charge cards down first.
Hopefully, no goddamn snakes will drop out of the damn trees on me when I visit. I HATE SNAKES!
But I love you. Are you feeling better?
SB
Ms. Moon,
I have the book, but am in the midst of about three others right now. I guess since you think I would like it so much, I might bump one of the other fuckers and just start reading Handling Sin.
I must admit, I read very little during the week, after spending all day in front of the damn computer. My eyes get tired.
Love, SB
It sounds like an interesting time. I have never been to a family reunion. I don't know why my family never had one but it appears that I missed a vital part of Americana.
I went to a family reunion about a year ago. I'm not too fond of the family, but, like yours, it was interesting at least. Seeing my uncle and cousins always does make me feel a little better about myself, even though I know that's wrong.
I fall right in the middle of the X and Y generations and I never know which one I am. My husband and I have argued about this. He says Y and I say X. I say that because nobody ever even started hearing the term Generation Y until I was in high school at least. I think.
Can you settle this for us? I was born in '78, so what generation does that make me?
Birdy,
I think you're a Y, babe. This (below) is from Wikipedia.
The Millennial Generation, also known as Generation Y or as Generation Next,.[1][2] is a term used to describe the demographic cohort following Generation X. Its members are often referred to as "Millennials"[3] or "Echo Boomers"[4]. As there are no precise dates for when Generation Y starts and ends, most commentators use birth dates ranging somewhere from the mid 1970s to late 1990s.
My extended family is huge and has one official family reunion every year. People wear name tags that have their name and which branch of the family they belong to. Yeah, its crazy. I usually know about a quarter of the people who are there or how they're related to me. Luckily my mom and grandma know all that information and are more than willing to share. My family LOVES genealogy...
J.,
I think you're lucky, girl. The more famdamily, the better.
SB loves genealogy, too. I also love you. Thanks for reading me.
Uncle Doyle's generation was THE GREATEST GENERATION,....
this is profound. it is true..
as a minister i find myself around alot of these old coots
(smelly unshaven ass needs cleaning vets from korea and b4)
am in awe and a bit jealous of their "life Rules" and codes they live by.. i often wonder what my kids will say about my generation. i was born in 62.. i dont know what letter that is. do i even have a letter? i know its not x or y cause they are taken, baby boomer? nope it started in 65 i think..
shit, now ya got the Jesus guy cursin..
you are loved my fat ass blogger friend,
Brother Frankie
A Biker for Christ
(myword verification was EQUIF...)
Bruddah Frankie,
SB adores you!!!
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