Turkey report

Yesterday's feast? The food was excellent, the wine flowed freely (a little too freely, if my headache today is any indication) and it was enjoyable to see some of my relatives. My aunt pulled out old family photos, including a wedding portrait of my great-grandparents circa 1906, and we even managed to find my father's high school yearbook. (His nickname was "Froggy." I have no idea why.) I had a chance to reconnect with my cousin/godson, who is in the middle of an intensive grad school course in clinical psychology. I saw my nephews, who have grown so much and seem like nice kids. I even got to meet the white trash girlfriend of my other cousin, who has scandalized and appalled my aunt in so very many ways. (Hoo boy: that relationship is a train wreck waiting to happen.)

And what kind of holiday would it be without some Aunt Mary antics? I learned that Aunt Mary -- in addition to being a recruiter for Jesus's army -- is apparently something of a horndog. She sat herself down next to Uncle George who, due to a rare combination of charisma and age-related attrition, is considered a hot tamale. The gentleman offered to drive the lady home. (Wink, wink.)

I also got to reconnect with my father (told him that I was perfectly happy living my life without my own personal handgun, at which point dear old Dad predicted that we would appear in the newspaper under the headline "Fatal Home Invasion"); my brother (who expounded upon his dominos-falling theory of real estate: once a [insert Polish word used as euphemism for the N-word] moves onto the block, why, no one will want to live next to them except another [insert Polish word used as euphemism for the N-word] and then the neighborhood is doomed); my sister-in-law (who told me about how her son's Little League game was held in a part of town that she described as "Little Tijuana," although my brother hastened to add that at least [insert perjorative name for those of Hispanic origin] have a good work ethic, unlike [insert Polish word used as euphemism for the N-word]. He likes to give credit where credit is due, you see.) And Aunt Mary shared her happiness at having welcomed her first grandchild into her family (with several just-audible comments about the baby's "colored blood" and conspicuously avoiding mentioning her daughter who adopted the child, or her daughter's wife because they're [lower voice and look around to make sure no one is listening] "queer").

This is why I tell people I'm an orphan.