Family Reunions
A Parody
Written by Peggy Randall-Martin – CHS 1963
July 7, 2009
Any resemblance to persons living or dead
is unintentional and if one
of the characters sounds familiar,
he/she has to be your relative, not mine!
I’m not going, I’m not going … well, I might go … but I don’t want to go … I could leave in the morning … or could just drive down this afternoon … maybe I should pack. Family reunions give me hives!
Wonder who came up with the idea that families should be forced to gather every year or so and pretend that they give a care about who did what with who! Aunt Bertha had an affair with Cousin Jed, and Great-Aunt Martha had a posterior tuck.
Then there’s step-aunt-twice-removed, Justine, who was arrested for exceeding the speed limit in a school zone and smacking the officer up side his head for telling her that she didn’t look like the 5-year old photo on her driver’s license. When she quits ranting, raving and asking for a re-count, she may either get to go home or have freewill to remove her wrap around blazer. Justine thinks her future as a guest of the county with 3 hots and a cot will be determined by a special county poll – voting booths and all!
The rest of the folk who show up will surely have updates on these stories and new yarns to spin. In the midst of all this, if I look in a mirror and open my mouth really wide in a silent scream, will that serve the purpose and put me up for a reprieve on losing my mind?
A few minutes ago I looked at the weather channel on TV and the number of the temperature is not as important as the fact that it was hot yesterday, it’s gonna be hotter today, and tomorrow will be really hot – like a jalapeño pepper. That pretty much narrows down the type of wardrobe I’ll be taking and lessens the amount of clothes I need to pack.
Okay, that should do it. Not one more thing will fit in my suitcase and I refuse to take more than one. Anything more than one bag and no one would believe that I didn’t come prepared for more than a day or two visit. That’s my way out should I need one – when I need one!
If Aunt Laura pinches my cheeks and calls me Isadora again this year, I may need a defense attorney before the day is out.
Uncle Cheater likes to pretend that no one knows how he got that handle and there’s not a cousin, aunt or grandma who will walk by him if his hands are free. Thank goodness most of the time he’s busy eating – no need for utensils when his fingers will do.
Gracious, enough reminiscing. Uh-oh, I better keep my mind on what I’m doing and put the garage door up before I try backing out!
There’s a line at that gas station, another line across the street and not a line here. There’s a lady pulling in this aisle from the other end. I’m three quarters of the way to the pump. She’s not going to move; quicker for me to just pump my gas and move on.
Tank’s full and tab’s paid. I can’t back up, can’t go forward and she isn’t moving. Forcing a smile – the kind usually prompted by constipation – I walk up to the woman in the car in front of me to tell her if she will back up and let me out, it is now her turn at the pump. That takes the cake – she’s alseep!
Awake now, she apologizes and explains that she waited all night up the street for the promotional 49 cent gas and just before her turn the pumps ran dry. Feeling a bit ashamed of myself for acting the way I did when she wouldn’t move, I offer to pump her gas and clean her windshield. She’s appreciative; but doesn’t need my help. She gets out of her car with a gas can. Her all-nighter for 49 cent gas was for her lawnmower? Huh!
It’s back to the house for me. I am not in the mood to drive down there this afternoon. Maybe I’ll make the trip tomorrow. Everyone is supposed to meet at Tom and Jerri’s house. She should’ve changed her name – not just her last name – her first name. Uncle Tom and Aunt Jerri. They should both change their first names. What the heck! If I stay home, I’ll have to unpack and then I might decide to go and the suitcase won’t pack itself …
On the road finally after a tortuous morning. This afternoon has to be better. Not much traffic. The exit I need is next. No! the road is closed With all of the problems of the day so far – now a detour – and I forgot to go to the bank – am I on a toll road? If so, I am in so much trouble. I don’t have any change and probably not even a dollar in my purse. This is not going well .Now, what am I going to do?
I’ll use my new disposable cell phone. I wrote down the number for the highway patrol – thank heavens – here it is. If I can remember how to use it – there – dial tone.
I explain my dilemma to the man who answers the phone. He finds it difficult to believe that anyone would start out on a trip with no cash. Guess he’s a might younger than me. On occasion I walk in the bathroom and forget why I went in there.
He wants to know where I am and I tell him the name of the exit just in front of me. Then he gives the best news I’ve had all day. The toll road entrance is a couple of miles away and I am to take the last free exit. I have already told him where I am going and he gives me directions and I repeat them to him twice – wrong both times. He’s patient and stays with me until I can repeat his instructions correctly.
Okay, now I’m on my way. Another Detour! I’ll call that guy back hopefully, he will remember me. He does and wants to know if detours upset me. Give him a medal and a big 10-4.
He gives me more directions and I repeat them incorrectly a couple of times. Then I explain that I quit smoking – when I started the sentence, there was a reason for telling him that and of course it was gone after 3 or 4 words. He tries to cover his laugh by pretending to cough. Ok, so that was out of context; but it’s lonely out here!
I know where I am now – at the corner of go straight and turn right or left. The sun is in the west and to my right; which means I should turn right.
Is that an oasis off in the distance or am I starting to hallucinate? Nope, it’s a mural on the back of a tour bus. Lettering declares it is the property of the 60’s Booming Senior Citizen Center.
If they are going to go that slow, why don’t they just park and walk. Sheesh, well I’m going around them.
Isn’t that strange – all of the windows on this side are down and smoke is coming out. From the looks of the woman behind the toke, her name may very well be Mary Juana! Now, I’m being pelted with fresh flowers. A man with no teeth hollers that he wants to ride with me. I do believe I have dropped off into an alternate universe; I know him – that’s Uncle Cheater! Well, I’m not stopping until I reach Gooch’s Corner and then only for a bathroom break.
There it is! Almost missed it.
My business taken care of; it’s back on the road for me. The 60’s bus is parking and I’m guessing that I know why they are stopping and betting, with the number of riders, they will be here a while.
It’s not much further now. Family Reunions – What was I thinking?
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