The Hose

Evil

THANKSGIVING AND MY FAMILY (PART 1)

For the most part, my family doesn't eat together at the table anymore. It started years back -- I had just entered college at the time -- and my parents moved from Jackson Heights to Flushing. The new house had a dining room, but from the start my dad claimed it as his office space. Besides, with me leaving the house, my sister already in college, my dad with his erratic work schedule, it only made sense to use the dining room for something practical. On occasions when we did get together as a family, we would just eat scattered about the house and that seemed fine to everyone.

I mention this bit of history because I spent Thanksgiving with my parents and grandparents. My uncles, aunts, and cousins were there too. This was at my grandparents' house so they actually had a dining room table and as such, I sat down to a meal with family for the first time in quite a while. My dad made me sit next to him, which I guess was fine because it beats sitting next to any of my strange uncles.

We have this one uncle, Second Uncle, who was in the military for many years and fought on the front lines in Vietnam. We're all pretty sure that the experience made him somewhat crazy. He's unmarried, works in a factory, and has several gold teeth -- old school style. He likes to talk about "the war" and offer to break out the old black and white photos of him in his army uniform.

And then there's Third Uncle, but everyone calls him Fat Uncle because, well, because he's fat. My family is creative like that. But anyway, I try to avoid Fat Uncle as much as possible because he's always pestering me to mentor his son, who of course, is my cousin. My cousin is 2 years younger than me and has been trying to complete his undergraduate degree going on 7 years now. He's declared and undeclared majors in business management, American literature, and international relations. He lives in his parents' basement and emerges into the light only to play networked games on the PC. I mean really, what am I supposed to do for this kid?

Lastly, there's Fourth Uncle, but since he's the last, we call him Small Uncle. In his youth, Small Uncle dreamed of being the biggest pop star in all of Vietnam. He's 36 now and in some ways, he's still holding on to that dream. About once or twice a month, he'll work a gig at a Vietnamese wedding, doing the MC'ing and singing. Apparently (according to my dad), there's quite a demand for Small Uncle in the Vietnamese wedding circles. Who knew?

One time, my dad told me that Small Uncle has promised to sing at my wedding and my immediate reaction was to make this gesture of a noose going around my neck and snapping taut. My dad was so disappointed at my outright disrespect that he simply lowered his eyelids and shook his head. My mom caught hold of the entire exchange but she kept in the background, as she was nearly doubled over in laughter. My mom does a lot of that stuff -- hanging in the background and laughing at other people (mostly at family).

Part 2... coming soon.