[EDIT: This post has been deleted because I was being snarky. March 13 05]

Obviously, I’ve known my uncle for quite some time. All my life you might say.

Of course, as is often the case with uncles, I’ve never really known my uncle, but thats really all beside the point isn’t it?

Anyway, my uncle is an orthopedic surgeon practicing in the South about an hour and a half away from my own location. (Props to anyone who figures it out whom I didn’t or doesn’t already know, btw.) As a hobby, he takes old houses and practically rebuilds them from the ground up. He’s got a really sweet, sweet bungalow style place that he’s turning into a party house. And its even got a neat little cabin in the back where he can stay if he rents it out, which is his current plan.

Now, understand, my uncle has a wonderful sense of style, a pretty good sense of humor, and is a lot of fun to be around.

However, thats about all that can be said in his favor.

He lives in a complete selfcentric world, where the other people around him are really to be used for his purposes and entertainment, to be cast aside whenever he’s done with them.

This is not to say he can’t be a nice guy. Its just, theres always a veneer of whats in it for him beneath that, even if its just a want of company.

Take, for example, the time we went to a family reunion in Michigan.

We’d all had a great time with a few of our liberal relatives one night, and the next afternoon was the actual reunion. That morning my mother went up to the grocery store (it was just my mother and me, from the immediate family) to grab supplies, and my uncle requested that she get him some beer. When asked what kind, and being in a deep conversation with a hot cousin, he said something to the effect of “Miller, like always”.

So my mother bought him Miller.

He actually wanted miller light.

So when we loaded up to go down to the beach for the actual reunion, we stopped by the grocery store so John could attempt to exchange his beer. We were there for 45 minutes, with 3 of the 5 of us sitting in the car.

During this time, our grandfather, John’s dad, called down from the beach to see if we could stop back by the hotel to pick up a forgotten power cord, or some such.

But John was driving. And after 45 minutes of haggling with store managers, John wanted to go to the reunion. Which was 10 minutes away. The hotel was < 2. But we went straight on to the beach, and my grandfather had to leave on his own to go pick up his stuff.

So, John could spend 45 minutes trying to get a minor change in beer for himself (the beer never got drank), but he couldn’t take 10 minutes to do something for his father.

And this is pretty indicative of his attitude about life. He’s been married twice, dated and slept with more girls than I could probably count, and basically never managed to commit to anything in his life. He drives a big truck and owns a porche, and insists that I call him “Uncle John”, because he’s insecure about his lack of family.

For all that, he’s lots of fun to hang out with, so long as you don’t trust him farther than you can throw him. Which isn’t far, because he’s 6’4” with lots of muscle.

So thats Uncle John.

So, I put a counter up to see if anyone besides IndieJade has ever visited my site. Thats the main thing.

Then theres the fun with Ghost. Did I mention this? The Man in Charge said we get Ghost, even after the heathen middle management tried to dealy us. So, until we actually buy it, we’re borrowing a copy of Ghost from academic computing.

Its 7.5, which isn’t nearly as nice as 8.0. Which is annoying. That, and I’m having trouble getting the bloody thing to work, which is also causing problems.

Blast and damn.

On a plus note, I’ve been mentioned on IndieJade’s blog (see links at right), which makes me very very happy.

Further updates as the day wears on. I should be able to give a nice description of the Botanical Gardens sale volunteering from last night, and maybe post up a character desciption about my uncle.

So thats the blogging agenda for the day.

Stay tuned, folks, we’ll be right back!

Right, so I failed miserably to dig up my Mom’s camera….maybe I can get her to bring it to the botanical gardens thing at which I’m gonna be helping out.

It just occured to me as well that I start a fair number of posts with “right”. Hmm…I think I’m getting predictable in my old age.

Umm…new link in the politics section, sustainable buisness. I haven’t had much time to check it out, but what a great concept, you know?

I got it when I was browsing around cafecanopy to bitch about the coffee they sent me. Tasted quite charred. Which makes me unhappy.

Anyhoo…I’m going to continue browsing around the web and check out mermaid tavern again to see if she’s answered my question yet (which she hasn’t…dammit all).

I wonder…has anyone read this yet?

I know what I’ll do….I’ll go grab one of those counter thingy’s and set that up. That way, I can see how sad I’m being. ;-)

Be back in moments.

So, I went to fencing tonight (surprise surprise), and when I got there, there was no electricity. (Real surprise. No. REAL surprise.)

Anyway, we fenced until it got to dark, then played with wacky wackers.

Then I made a crack about singing kumbaya, and a couple of the youngin’s said I should sing “The Scotsman” again. So I started to go along. Aaron (16 year old god-fearin’, gun-totin’, hard drinkin’, Bush worshipin’ (despite never having read anything about the man personally), but otherwise decent kid Aaron, starts bitching about it.

“Ok man thats enough. No really thats enough. Thats good. Stop. That’s enough.”

So, whilst singing (About that time two young and lovely girls just happend by//And one says to the other with a twinkle in her eye…//), I walked over and dutched-rubbed him for being bitchy.

He got really bent out of shape. We play-fight all the time, we fence, we take the piss, so honestly it never occured to me before hand that this would be a problem.

Wrong. Bad call. He got all twitchy and nervous and whilst I have no proof, I just hear him thinking about being uncomfortable and wondering if I’m gay.

Couple of points. While it would be nice to be bi (more options), I’m not. Nor am I gay. I’m straight. In fact, Nicole has often told me that I “permeate masculinity”. Of course, given the rest of the guys in Nicole’s life, that isn’t saying much, but hey. However, just about every not quite so secure in themselves straight person I’ve ever met has at some point questioned by orientation.

Now, if a gay guy thought I was gay, I’d be flattered. But they don’t ever make that mistake. Ever. I just don’t fit.

However, there are a lot of repressed straight people out there that think that if you like to sing and dance, and if you’re ok with touching guys, you must be gay.

Especially in the damn south.

One day Alex was talking about some gay activist group who supposedly resides next door, and then he stopped, said “Not that theres anything wrong with that…and then he and Rachel both gave me this long, nearly practice look.

I don’t get it. Used to happen back in school, too. Except only straight people do it. Its enough to make me turn gay, just to go along with people. But then I’d never get any play, cause no one gay thinks I’m gay.

On another note, I’m gonna cut my hair pretty quick here. I think I’m gonna go look for Mom’s camera and get before and after pics, put them up to my website, and then post links to them. Thats the theory.

Not as it matters, but afterall I do have a mild case of vanity.

Back soon.

[EDIT: Cheers to Sandy for pointing out a linking mistake. Thats what I get for handcoding it. ]