You know, I was all worried today about what the heck I was going to write after yesterday’s craptastic post. Thanks to a little good luck and my local ISP, a little piece of inspiration landed right in my lap.
Tonight my sister K. called me. It had been about two weeks since I had talked to her – we both live in the same city, but she’s 20 years older than I am so obviously she has a whole different life than I do. She is married with two sons, and is so incredibly busy doing all kinds of volunteer stuff that she stays busier than I do with a full-time job. And honestly, you couldn’t pay me to do some of the volunteer gigs that she does.
We have two brothers as well. D. lives out on the West Coast, is married with one daughter. He is my “baby” brother and a whopping 13 years older than I am. My other brother, P. lives here on the East Coast as well but we don’t see him but maybe once a year. He is also married with two grown sons and I believe he is 16 years older than I am. Yes, I am that pathetic that I’m not sure how old he is.
Guys being guys, we don’t hear from our brothers very often. Usually when we hear from them, it’s saying that they’re coming to town and wanting a ride from the airport or a place to stay. Oh, and they’ll be here in 30 minutes, is that okay? Our parents live two hours away from us, but in a tiny town so obviously the guys want to stay in the “big city” where they can get good coffee and a decent bagel versus going to Mayberry. Since there’s such an age difference between us, it’s hard to say if my siblings were really all that close growing up. But our relationships are what they are, and I figure as long as they’re not trying to move in with us I’m happy with the way things are.
Anyhow, my sister asked me if I’d seen my dad’s latest e-mail, which was a forward of an e-mail my brother P’s wife sent last week. She started trying to tell me what the e-mail was about and collapsed into a fit of laughter so hard that I thought she was going to choke. I rarely check our home e-mail so I was curious exactly what my sister-in-law C. had said.
C. is a little bit of what I would call a religious nut. I’m all for religion, just as long as people don’t try and shove it down my throat. God and I have our deal and it’s working out just fine for me, thank you very much. But my sister-in-law is so….um, zealous, that it can be a real turnoff at times. Not to mention the fact that she tends to be somewhat of a lunatic as well. She’s kind of like that crazy relative that you listen to spouting off a bunch of crap at every family reunion all while you’re giving your spouse the hairy eyeball like, “See, I told you she was crazy!” Yeah, one of those. She makes me look normal.
Anyhow, apparently my brother is only a few months away from being eligible to retire from the force. Now, I’m not sure exactly what the heck he is planning on doing, but apparently it involves something with driving a large truck and salsa. Here is part of the e-mail:
“P. and I are trying to find venues to sell this salsa. We had a big sale lined up for this Sunday, truck was packed and we could not find the event. P. called the promoter to find out P. had the wrong date it was Saturday and we had missed it. I laughed and was very grateful for an afternoon off. We awoke this morning at 4 AM to drive one hour in P.'s truck with the salsa to a big flea market. We paid our rent at 6AM only to find out it does not offically open until April 1. But we had nice vendors around us. We made $10.00 profit.”
OK. So they drove around with a truck full of salsa one day and couldn’t find the event only to find out it’s the wrong day…then another day they paid rent on a space only to find out the flea market doesn’t open until April??? And made only $10 profit? Methinks they might want to reconsider this avenue of making a buck. So far I’m not very impressed. And where exactly is this salsa coming from, anyway? And why do they have a truckload of it? Hmmm. Maybe they should’ve worked a little harder on their retirement plans instead of blowing it all on that huge Winnebago they use to go to all of their kids' college football games.
Sorry, I’m just giggling now imagining P. standing by his truck with a huge sombrero on his head and a fake mustache hawking salsa. The visual is too damn good.
She goes on to say:
“P just received another special license yesterday for driving a truck or something. We had a great time that morning while he took the test. He was nervous and asked me to come along to pray with him. I told him I could pray very well from home. I was bound to finish up the income tax. Well he really wanted me to go so I dressed and grumbled to the Lord asking Him to help me be a happy wife.
We prayed all the way to the testing area. The tester told P he had tested 22 drivers in the last two days and 19 failed. We prayed harder :>). Well the man told me I was not allowed to go for the test drive so I had to go and sit in the center, I was not a happy camper.
As I sat there with Lasser's 800 page income tax book I wondered why I had come. Then my answer came. Two young girls sat down beside me and we began to talk. They were very confused on ‘wiccan practices’ versus Jesus. I was filled with joy. A mission field right in my backyard.”
I don’t even know where to start with this part. First of all, why the heck is my brother getting a special truck license? Is this part of his sinister plot to drown the East Coast in salsa? Will he wear the sombrero while he’s driving the truck? Ah, so many unanswered questions.
And knowing C. the way I do, I bet those two girls marched right down to the local Wiccan priestess and signed up immediately after listening to her rant and rave for an hour. Seriously, she’s THAT BAD.
So now I’m wondering – when my brother retires in a few weeks, are they taking their salsa act on the road? Will they live in an 18-wheeler, traveling back and forth across the country dispensing salsa and salvation? Just the thought gives me severe heartburn and indigestion.