My brother's visit - LOOOOONG

I never post this long:

Friday night
- His wife is 44 (turned 45 on Sunday) and has never flown on a plane. They flew on Delta, and the airline lost their luggage so they were an hour later getting out of the airport.

- Somewhere in here, we had our first of several anti-Mexican comments. I lost count after the first few dozen.

- We ate at Wildside – Cuban-influenced BBQ, they really liked it.

- At Wildside, we had a family to our left, but there were two tables behind us with lesbians (one was a table of black lesbians) and two tables with gay men (one of which had people joining them constantly with kissing, hugging, and squeals of delight each time.) There was also a big table of Goth kids and a local band (I can’t think of their name), and a small ensemble were playing jazz later. Neither my brother nor his wife made any derogatory comment, which is amazing.

- We stopped and saw one of my best friends – a man who manages Urban Think Bookstore downtown, and who always greets me with a hug. My brother walked to the far end of the store when he saw that…

- We drove around town, and I showed them Ivanhoe, College Park, Winter Park, Audubon, and Baldwin. We stopped by Loch Haven Park and the big tree, both of which they seemed to like.

- I show them David’s house. As of this point there are no anti-gay comments.

- When we got home, my neighbors (and good friends) were having a cookout. John and Dahly are PR; and I was scared to death my brother would make another anti-Mexican comment, but he refrained.

- My brother used my cell phone to yell at Delta…a lot…about the missing luggage. I kept praying he would hand me the phone, because I really good at gently getting what I want…he yells.

- My brother broke his four week stint of non-drinking and had six beers.

- Ah, here come the gay jokes. Fun… He, of course, means no harm, right, before he leaps into another…

- We went to bed.

Saturday
- I called the luggage people and sweet-talked them into bringing my brother’s luggage first. We got it at 8:40am.

- I text Kate to join us for breakfast, but she doesn’t get the text.

- We eat at Paulie’s – they have a hot sauce a lot like Tobasco.

- We went out to the ocean – Cocoa – where my brother’s wife saw the ocean for the first time. She loved it. It does feel good to show people something for the first time (see my Sunday night mistake for when this goes wrong…)

- Did I mention the anti-Mexican comments. They were accompanied by racist jokes – starting with the Mexicans and moving to all spics, gooks, wops, etc… I started talking politics to get him to shut up.

- A hustler propositioned me in front of my brother.

- I forgot to put sunscreen on the tops of my feet, and they burnt a little. My brother refused to wear any sunscreen and ended up looking like a British tourist.

- We went into Ron Jon’s, which my brother and his wife simply loved and bought LOTS of stuff.

- We had a late lunch at Shark Bites, which we ALL agreed was overpriced. So, we did agree on this!

- On the way back into town, my brother started telling me about how God talked to him in a dream.

- We drove back in one of the worst downpours I’ve seen in a while. This thunderstorm made Ernesto seem like a light drizzle.

- I showed them International Drive, so they could see the tourist areas.

- We stopped by Super Target where they bought 7 six-pack bottles of beer.

- We stopped downtown and saw my sometimes office. My brother made some crack about it being too nice for the likes of me…

- They insisted on eating leftovers from Wildside and drinking beer. John and Dahly were having another cookout. This is where my brother’s wife commented that the Puerto Ricans are a cleaner, nicer, more educated spic than the Mexicans…

- Ah, here’s where he got drunk and pulled me back into my place to apologize for everything he ever did to me. Which, he wasn’t the worst – that honor is saved for a tie between my oldest brother and my dad (for entirely different things).

- And then he sat and told his wife in detail all the crappy things everyone did to me as a child. That was fun. Like an exorcism. Or a redneck “This is Your Life.”

- In here somewhere, he got to outline all the terrible things that happened to him, all the while making sure I knew he didn’t see any of that was as bad as what happened to me. Joy… Because I really want to relive it.

- Now, we get into why I am gay. It’s either my oldest brother’s or my stepmother’s fault, but it’s sure sad it happened.

- He then said he wished I lived closer to them in Oklahoma City. Yeah, hmmm, no!

- He then wants me to recount in detail my gay history and whether I think anything caused it. Because he’s a little drunk, I successfully sidestep this conversation.

- His wife wanted to see one of my plays on video, so I showed them a short one – kind of comic, kind of drama. She got up and left halfway through, and my brother – who by now is seriously drunk, cried at the sadder stuff, saying he knows I wrote it because I am somehow terribly emotionally scarred. And then went on to re-apologize for everything he apologized for an hour earlier.

- We went to bed.

Sunday
- More anti-Mexican comments inserted here.

- My sister-in-law decided my coffee-maker needed cleaning so she submersed it in soapy water, thereby ruining it forever.

- My brother threw an empty beer bottle in the sink, breaking off the handle of one of my coffee mugs, which I love and have kept unbroken for 12 years.

- I forgot to call my friend Kate again, making it two mornings in a row I have dissed her on accident. I have to do a serious Mea Culpa for this.

- Wow, those Mexicans sure sound like trouble!

- I went and got the Sunday morning paper and a new coffee machine. I sat on the back porch swilling caffeine and tearing through the paper like it was a normal Sunday.

- My brother and I sit on the back porch and relive the fist fight he had with my other brother that made me swear to never go back to Oklahoma. There is no apology for ruining the first time us 11 kids were together in 20 years.

- Those Mexicans are starting to make me nervous.

- We ate breakfast at Christo’s – they liked it – more Tobasco sauce and racial comments about Mexicans added here.

- I took them to Wekiva Springs, which they really loved. However, my sister-in-law refused to want to go canoeing – even though it was a lovely day – so I had another hour I had to cover later. Because their visit is like – How will I fill the time till they have to leave so that they don’t get so drunk they get into a fist fight or decide to graffiti a cop car or something…

- We went to Flea World, because I knew they’d love it, and they did. Even with all the Hispanics.

- Here’s a conversation that actually happened at Flea World:
Brother: (To the tune of “Overture to the Marriage of Figaro”) De de de, dah dum dum. De de de, dah dum dum. Dee dee duh-dee. Dee-dee duh-dee, dee-dee duh-dee, dum dum dum dum!

Me: You know what song that is?

Brother: Nope, couldn’t give a shit less. (Starting singing it again)

Me: (Interrupting) It’s “The Overture to the Marriage of Figaro.”

Brother. So? (Continues)

Me: You know who it’s by.

Brother: Can’t say as I give a fuck.

Me: It’s by Mozart.

Brother: Now, you know I’ll just forget that in about 30 seconds. (Continues his redneck version of “The Overture to the Marriage of Figaro.”)

- My brother buys his wife sandals at Flea World for her birthday, (but to be honest, this trip is also her birthday present).

- Bad, evil, ugly Mexicans.

- We leave Flea World and go and see the two oldest cypress trees in America – The Senator and Lady Liberty. They really like this, too, which is good, because this is how I cover for that extra hour after we didn’t go canoeing.

- My sister-in-law has decided she loves Orange Blossom Pilsner Beer, so we go on a hunt to find some – they buy two cases! They’re only here one more night!

- We go home and they start in on the Pilsner.

- Wow, I am starting to hate the Mexicans, too!

- Cathy comes home and ignores my brother and his wife to go on a 40-minute monologue about her brother’s wedding in Fort Wayne. Really, I thank God for this interruption.

- We go around town and take a few more pictures.

- My sister-in-law admits she wishes I would marry Cathy… And then maybe we could move closer to Oklahoma City… My brother wants me to marry David and then move to Oklahoma City.

- I take them out for very Americanized Vietnamese. Because I know my brother loves it (he was stationed in South Vietnam in the late 80s). I figure my sister-in-law will like it, too. She was a trooper, but this food is NOTHING like what she’s used to, so she says “It’s good, but it’s completely different from what I am used to, so I probably wouldn’t go out of my way to eat it.” …great… My brother thinks it’s amazing, though.

- I swear, I am going to punch the next motherfucking Mexican I see!!!

- They go home and drink some more, and we have another little mini-exorcism which I cut short with a lot of joking.

- We got to bed.

Monday
- They pack, and I arrange for Cathy and David to join us for breakfast. No bad comments about David’s effeminacy, which is good, because I am about at the end of my rope.

- Breakfast at Paulie’s. They act funny when I tell the server that we want separate checks (my friends and I always eat this way.)

- I show them my other office on the way to the airport.

- One more plea for me to move to Oklahoma.

- They are on the plane and gone.

- I have no answers for what you do with a family that seems permanently broken, unfixable. I have no answers for why I am related to so many people I try so hard but cannot seem to connect to. I am still going through post-traumatic stress, but when the shock wears off, I am going to cry like a kid hearing that Santa just died.