Family Moab

Family Moab
In Arches National Park

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Serial Madness

Driving back from lunch I passed a minivan with a stick - figure family in the back window; a mom, a dad, and three kids holding hands. Above them, this phrase: "Hi from the Ass family." I mean no disrespect here, but seriously? I have never met anyone with the last name of Ass, let alone someone who would put it on the rear of their car.  Shortly after that, the DJ on Sirius XM Radio announced that I should check the "Classical Rewind" Facebook page to get all the news on who was having surgery and who was getting divorced. They don't have to rub it in my face how old my favorite rockers (and I) are getting. Did I fall on my head too many times doing Crow pose this morning or has the world completely gone around the bend?

At least lunch was sanity - inducing. I met my youngest brother, James, and his delightful co-worker Tommy for a quick bite as journeyed from the airport to a conference in the mountains. James and I tried not to dominate the conversation with reminiscences and family gossip, and we all had a good laugh about the perils of home ownership, work travel, and living in earthquake-prone areas. They also tried to convince me that there was a secret underground city at DIA, but I didn't fall for that (though I may google it later). I read once that siblings born more than seven years apart are more like aunts or uncles than older brothers or sisters, but I don't feel like James' aunt. My nine nieces and nephews would tell you that I am way, way older than them, but James doesn't feel that way - or at least he doesn't let on. He's smart that way, even if he believes in secret underground cities.

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