My brother Uncle Nascar and I have this love hate relationship. I hate him because he always gets away with it, he loves me because I am an easy target and I always take his bait. My brother was in a serious car accident over 8 years ago. He was probably drunk, and he fell asleep at the wheel and rolled his mini-van, and suffered a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). So the brother that I grew up with no longer exists.
Uncle Nascar believes he is the only one, the only one who has to work, who has to pay taxes, who has a mortgage, and who has to put up with the daily BS called life. He is the only one who works overtime, drives in traffic, shops at Wal-Mart, and listens to FOX News. He calls all the time to tell me how hard he is working, and how tough life is. But get this he is 28 years old, he lives in North Carolina and my Mother calls him every morning to wake him up. She gets up, even on the weekends and calls him and makes sure he is up so that he can go to work. I can't stand this, he is an adult, capable of purchasing alarm clocks, yet his mommy calls him every morning to wake him up.
Uncle Nascar moved to North Carolina because a friend of his lived down there, or so he says. I really cannot figure out why he moved down there, other than he likes NASCAR and he is far away from our parents. When I left home I moved to Alaska, 3000 miles away.
Uncle Nascar used to live in Illinois, and used to go to shows with me. I liked going and seeing some Hippy Bands every now and then and since I was single, I used to ask him to go with, just because I am nice. Well going to shows with me was an excuse to drink, because I would stay sober so that a.) we did not get mugged in down town St. Louis, b.) because I dance better sober, and c.) I would be the one to get him out of the truck when we got home.
This one time, Earth Muffin can vouch for me, we were at a Big Wu show and he went to the bathroom and was gone for a really long time, well Mr. Earth Muffin went in to check on him, and found him puking. Uncle Nascar gets my keys and goes out to my truck to sleep it off, when the show ends, it is starting to snow and I am banging on my own truck window for Uncle Nascar to wake up and let me in. When we finally got home, 3 hours later, I had to fire fighter carry Uncle Nascar to the porch.
Uncle Nascar, never remembers birthdays, adoption days, holidays, or anything. Every year Eddy Haskel painstakingly picks out gifts for Uncle Nascar, yet every year Uncle Nascar does not get the boy who totally idolizes him anything. Once when he came home from North Carolina, he was going to hang out at a friend's house and had brought gifts for their children, he felt guilty so he gave Eddy his pocket knife. It was the sharpest freaking knife I have ever seen, and yes I carry a knife in my pocket. But I could not let Eddy have the knife, even supervised he could do serious damage.
So upon closing this post, daily I mourn the brother that I lost that fateful night in June, 8 years ago. I am sorry that I will be the one taking care of my crazy parents, (see previous posts). And I am embarrassed for Uncle Nascar that he still needs his mommy, even though she weaned him from her breast 26 years ago.
3 comments:
Don't forget about the time he said to T. and B., "I didn't think people as old as you guys went to shows any more." That was when we went to Leo Kottke/Mike Gordon.
Oh, yeah, and that night after the Wu...it was ICING, not snowing. Your van doors were frozen shut. And don't forget about the homeless guy that was coming right towards you while you were trying to get in. I still feel bad that I didn't send Mr. EM or his friend to walk you to your van. (I just realized that I need to come up with a funny blogger name for that friend. Help me out with that, will you?)
I can't believe your mom still calls him every day to wake him up. Pathetic...for both of them.
I think that friend should be called Chrisaga, like I called him before. Or iaminschooltoavoidresponsibilities!
I did not know that about your brother. Have I known you for more than 8 years? I guess not because I only met you after Big M was born and he's just 8... Was he a momma's boy before the accident?
I always got mad at how much more my mom babied my little brother -- if... no wait, when... he left wet towels on the bathroom floor, she went in and picked them up. Every freakin day! I vowed that as a mom of boys I wouldn't do all that nonsense for them.... (now I just have to do it for my husband... ugh!)
That sucks about Uncle NASCAR and Eddie Haskell. Some people just never grow up and it's too bad for them, but also too bad for the people around them!
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