I don't like to talk about my family that often. First, they're crazy. Second, you don't know them. And stories about people you don't know make me bored when I have to listen to them. So bail if you want to now.....
But sometimes this here blog isn't about my adventures fighting crime or boobies or the non-relative crazies in Ohio. So this one is for me. Yeah, just like most of the jokes.
My brother in law just passed away. He was pretty fucked up from a long illness and had a bleeding esophagus that they couldn't repair. So he went into Hospice Care on Tuesday and was gone in less than a day. So for a memorial service, I'm going back to 'Zona, 'Zona, 'Zona. I'm going back to 'Zona. I really think so.
And because you never knew my BIL Scotty G, here's a few stories that may help you get him.
He coined the phrase "The Outlaws" for all the poor people who made the poor choice to marry into our family. At family gatherings, he used to take all the in-laws together for a quick beverage. The Outlaws tended not to understand how a euchre game can dissolve into a shouting match, cursing, new partners and still be a great time.
Once we rented a houseboat on Lake Powell. We had beached it for the afternoon and were sitting on deck. One fly kept annoying us. Scotty kept trying to swat it and missing. I explained to him that fly eyes are so complex and their brains are so small that if he wanted to catch it, he needed to put his hands on both sides of its head with two piece of Kleenex and they'd just vapor lock. He ignored Mr. Science's advice and continued to swat at the fly ineffectually. I finally got up, got two paper towels, approached the fly like I'd told him and killed it on the first try. His response, "Fucking college kids."
During one family gathering, we had some wine, but no one had brought an opener. Scotty swore that if you wrapped a towel around a bottle and hit it at just the right angle, the cork would shoot down into the bottle and you could drink it. Two shots to a supporting pillar later, the bottle broke and wine spilled all over the deck. Scotty's response, "Why don't you people just drink rum & coke like I do?"
When Scotty owned his own business, he named it Scott Free Enterprises, Extremely Limited.
He used to call everyone "Chief" when he didn't know someone's name. This was especially amusing when we were driving through Arizona and asked for directions. Seeing Scotty's face as he realized he just called a Native American woman Chief was priceless.
It was a lot easier typing these stories than it will be telling them while choaking back the tears at the memorial service. Bye, Scotty. I'll miss you.