My Uncle Gene took an order for Chinese food after the same person called the wrong number one too many times. He was cool that way.
You could ask him anything, and he'd tell you the answer, even if after about ten minutes you realized he was making it up as he went along. Like the time my mum called him to verify the weird old custom of burying a St. Joseph statue on the property of a house that has to be sold in a hurry. Bury it upside down in the north corner facing the house, Uncle Gene told her...at first. There were about ninety steps to the process according to him, and I wish to god I had it on tape because it was hilarious.
He used to call our dog Josephine, he'd tell short guys they needed pedal blocks to drive, told me to warn him when I was out on the road so he could get indoors, used to hang out the window of his cab yelling, "SALAMI!" at Nan when he'd see her and would call Nan up to tell her if she was making chicken wings he'd take 48. He did, too.
We lost him a year and a day ago, and like my Poppy, you can't be sad talking about them because they had the greatest stories and you'd just see them and start to crack up because you knew that no matter what, they'd leave you happier than you ever knew you could be. I'm grateful to have had men like that in my life looking out for me, makes me feel like I ought to be doing great things in their honor, but then I couldn't do much better than being recognized as Gene's niece. Totally happened one time, I was in orbit for...just about twenty years so far. ^_^
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
I Am And Always Will Be His Spaghetti Head
Tags:
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
The world will always need people who lean on the window of their cabs and yell "Salami!" I salute your memory of your Uncle Gene. A very cool man I would love to have met. Nice to be able to experience his wonderfulness through your memories.
Thank Wiggy. ^_^
Post a Comment