A fishy story!

Today we are gonna try something different. I am going to hand over the reigns of this blog to one of my brothers-in-law. On the blog, his handle is BIL1. (See my originality at play again?!)

BIL1 and I do not agree on many things. We don't agree on politics, religion or how to play poker. But one thing we do agree on is that Hubz has a rather skewed outlook on many topics such as fishing and transportation.

The following is a true story. This is a story that when I called Hubz at 9 o'clock at night on the day in question to find out where in the world they were since they all had been gone since 9 o'clock that morning, I did not believe the story I was told. BIL2 was the lucky one to answer Hubz' cellphone. He was the one chosen to relay this story the first time to me. Needless to say that upon his giving me a quick rundown of the day's events, I pretty much thought he had been paid off by Hubz to tell this tale. But I have since received verification that this is all indeed true. All I can really say to that is praise God I didn't have to go on this fishing trip. I've had enough of my own nightmare-inducing fishing jaunts with Hubz to last me forever. I'm glad someone else got to experience this little joy in life.

Here we go. Please enjoy this fishy tale.

The following is an account of the tragic events that occurred one clear winter day in January 2011.  A day of leisure that three brothers set out to enjoy, only to find themselves never so glad to get home in their lives. Though I am just a relayer of the message, during this interview I became more than just a reporter. I became a partaker in the struggle that these three men endured. The events described herein are real but to protect the egos of those involved their names have been changed to what they are known as on this blog.

As I sat across from the man we will call BIL1, you could see that this was a subject that he was not eager to discuss. He had a large stocky build, about 6 feet tall and over 300 pounds. He had a scruffy beard and he apologized to me in his slow southern drawl for the obvious smell of whiskey that tainted his breath. He explained that since what he called “the fishing trip from Hell” he has turned to liquor to help ease his nerves. When he spoke you could see his mind revisiting those horrible events of that day. His voice and tone reminded me of that of the character Carl in the movie Sling Blade. Here is what BIL1 had to say:

Question: BIL1, tell me what you and your brothers set out to do on that day.

BIL1: Well my brother, Hubz, had got luckier than a huntin dawg with two noses cause he traded his four wheeler straight up for a fishin boat. He wanted ta take the boat to the lake and try it out and we figured we aught ta get in sum fishin while we was there. So me, Hubz, and my other brother, BIL2 decided ta go fishin and that was great but Hubz decided to pull the boat with his Ford truck and that idea didn’t exactly tickle mine and BIL2's fancy.

Question: Why did it disappoint you to hear that Hubz decided to use his truck to transport the boat?

BIL1: Have you ever seen that movie Urban Cowboy with that guy that played Vinnie Barbarino? Hubz’ truck is just like the one Vinnie had in that movie, just age it about 35 years, run it off a cliff, fill the cab with tools and clothes, throw a bunch of old tabacca spit bottles in the bed, and add a motor that backfires all the time. That’s not a ride I was excited to be a passenger in.

Question: Despite yours and BIL2’s reservations you still decided to go on the trip. Why?

BIL1: Well we didn’t have no reservations anywhere, but fur a chance ta go fishin we would just about ride in a little red wagon. So we climbed over the tools and clothes and squeezed into the truck. Now Hubz and I - we’re big boys, but BIL2 he’s not. He looks like a popsicle stick on the Jenny Craig diet so he got ta sit in the middle. Sittin in that truck he looked like one thin slice of deli meat between two thick pieces of Texas toast.

Question: Were there any problems with the truck on the way to the lake?

BIL1: Ridin in a vehicle that Hubz calls a “classic” is not the same as ridin in the futuristic cars and trucks of today. So when you ask if there was any problems that is a matter of opinion and it was clear ta BIL2 and I that Hubz was obviously way to used ta his chariot and its flaws. Hubz said what we call "flaws" he calls "character". So we just had ta grin and bear the ride with the drafts, fumes, backfires, and the other folks on the road telling us that we was number one.

Question: Why were the other motorists giving you the proverbial one finger salute?

BIL1: Well Hubz’ truck will only run about 62 miles an hour when it is not pulling the boat, so you can imagine how it was for us to be on the interstate going about 55 miles an hour downhill. Between the slow speed and the leaky oil slick running out the back of the truck other drivers were not happy to be behind us.

Hubz had set it up so we would meet up with Hubz’ buddies. When we got to the lake there was no where to park because there was a fishin tourney going on. Hubz asked me ta back the boat down the ramp ta put her in the water. “Pat the gas pedal five times and it should start,” he told me after I got in the truck. After a few minutes of tryin, I finally got the thang ta start and since it won’t idle I had ta put a little pressure on tha peddle to keep it running. I drive a tractor trailer fur work so backin up a trailer is usually no problem but between the game of keepin the thang runnin and havin ta fight tha lack of no powersteerin made backin very hard. When we was done launchin the boat I had ta floor the gas ta get the truck ta pull back up tha hill then park in tha grass. My arms sure was sore.

Question: Well how was the fishing part of the trip?

BIL1: It sucked.

Question: Do you care to elaborate on that?

BIL1: Well nosey, I guess I can. The boat ran great. It was cold. The fish weren’t bitin. And the only thing we caught was Hubz’ rod an reel after he dropped it in the water. I bet we didn’t get about 2 hours of actual fishin all day long.

Question: How did he drop his fishing pole in the water?

BIL1: We were in a cove casting at a few trees that had fell in tha water and all of the sudden Hubz shouted out, “fiddlesticks.” Me and Bil2 turned around just in time to see the tip of the fishing pole disappear into the cold depths. We put heavy weights and treble hooks on our poles and started casting in the area where we saw the pole go down. After about an hour Hubz hooked the pole and slowly reeled it up, he got that darn thang bout two feet out of tha water and it came loose from his hook. Once again that thang taunted us as it went under the water. Finally after another hour we hooked it and got it in the boat.

Question: It’s amazing that you were able to get the pole back at all since it sank into the “cold depths” as you called it.

BIL1: Yeah, the water was bout 41 degrees.

Question: How deep was it though?

BIL1: It was pretty deep.

Question: Yes, you said that but how deep?

BIL1: O.k. o.k., it was eleven feet deep and we couldn’t seem to hook that dang pole in eleven feet of water. Heck it was so frustratin that after we finally got the rod back I told Hubz that I was about ta strip down and jump in and get the rod. BIL2 laughed and told Hubz that he wasn’t thinkin that at all and that the rod could stay at the bottom before he was going in that cold water. Then Hubz got a call from his buddy who couldn’t get his boat started.

Question: What did you guys do then?

BIL1: We don’t let our buddies down! We fired up the boat and went to help them. Halfway across the lake we found em and jumped them off. It was about an hour ana half from dark so we headed back toward the boat ramp. Then as if the day wasn’t eventful enough we had the "gas incident".

Question: What is the “gas incident”?

BIL1: Well as soon as we came out of the cove where they was at their boat ran out of gas.

Question: What did you do then?

BIL1: I already told ya city slicker down here we don’t abandon our friends so we tied a rope from our boat ta there’s and towed them back ta tha ramp at a creepin speed of 5 miles an hour. We got back ta tha ramp bout 15 minutes before dark. I got in tha truck of death, went through tha fight of backin it down the ramp, then keepin it runnin while we inched up tha ramp. That’s the story of our great fishin trip.

Question: BIL1, it is my understanding that this is where the story begins. Didn’t you guys have some sort of car trouble on the way home?

BIL1: Do we really have ta talk bout this part?

Question: Yes, I think it is an important part of the story. Will you please proceed?

BIL1: Well alright then. We followed Hubz’ buddies out of the park and back toward the interstate. There is bout 15 miles of backwoods roads between tha lake and tha interstate. So we’re bout half a mile behind the buddies when all of the sudden the headlights on the truck of death went out.

Question: What did you guys do?

BIL1: We all started screamin out "FIDDLESTICKS, OH FIDDLESTICKS" over and over. It was horrible.  Hubz was pullin and turnin switches, Bil2 was banging on the dash, and I was looking down at the side of the road ta try and see the white line. The lights came back on. We all breathed a sigh of relief.  Then...the lights went right back off.

Question: Then what did you do?

BIL1: Same thang.  "FIDDLESTICKS, OH FIDDLESTICKS! DEAR GOD WHATR WE GONNA DO?"  The lights kept going on an off.  Then as we rolled up to a four way stop sign, the lights went off and stayed off.  Tha only light we could see was the taillights of Hubz’ buddies truck slowly disappearin in the distance.

Question: I thought you said that buddies do not abandon each other.

BIL1: You ever liked a girl and then had that uncomfortable moment when you realize that you like her a lot more than she likes you? Sometimes it’s like that with buddies.

Question: What happened next?

BIL1: We was stranded on a back road, in the night, in the dark. This was the darkest of dark. Hubz said "let’s check under the hood." So he shut the truck off and opened his door. I know he said “let’s” check under the hood but I thought that he might have been talkin ta his make believe friend. He got out then shot me this look that cleared that up for me.  “Let’s” meant me and him. 

I opened tha door slowly as thoughts of tha movie Deliverance ran through my head. When I got out I could only hear two thangs - oil drippin under tha truck and Hubz sayin fiddlesticks over and over.  I told him ta hush before someone or something heard us. We didn’t have a flashlight so I held my phone ta use as a light while he looked fur tha problem.  As if I wasn’t nervous enough I noticed the bars on my phone bouncin from one bar ta none. I had the vision in my head of us running down the street from a band of hillbillies while I yell inta my phone "CAN YA HEAR ME NOW?" 

I’ve seen that movie and I know what happened ta tha fat guy.

After bout ten minutes Hubz moved from tha hood back ta tha cab where he proceeded ta disassemble tha dash. He had all tha tools he needed in tha floorboard and behind tha seat. Somethin told me that he had done this before.  Tha lights suddenly came on and went back off. Me and BIL2 yelled out “THAT’S IT!”  So we spent tha next twenty minutes with Hubz movin different areas of thangs under tha dash while I would yell “ON, OFF, ON, OFF, ON.”  While this light show was happenin a few cars started ta approach tha intersection. I guess they thought we was doin sum sort a gang activity with tha light show that wuz goin on.

Question: Why do you say that? (I noticed his eyes a bit watered and his voice cracking when he answered this question.)

BIL1: They drove off, they drove off fast, none of em slowed or asked if we wuz o.k. THEY JUST SPED AWAY AS FAST AS THEY COULD!

Question: Why does this seem to upset you so?

BIL1: Cause this was when I realized that we wuz all alone and no one was comin ta help us.

All at once our spirits lifted cause tha lights came on.  Hubz found tha problem.  The headlight switch had some bad contacts in it. Hubz slammed the hood closed and said "git in".  We jumped in the truck.  He turned tha key and...nothing. The battery was dead and our hearts sank deep in our chest. Hubz looked at me and said we’ll put tha battery out of the boat in tha truck, so we jumped out took the battery out of tha truck.  we had ta lower tha boat motor down ta get tha boat battery out. We put tha boat battery in he jumped in and started tha truck.  I I slammed tha hood down and, uh, never mind.

Question: It’s all right.  You can tell me what you were going to say. Go ahead, please.

BIL1: Well ya might think I’m crazy but as I got into tha truck I heard a voice behind me whisper, “you sure do have a pretty mouth.” I felt a chill go down my back, I slammed tha door and yelled "GO, GO, GO!"

We went bout three more miles and I looked over at Hubz and asked “did you raise the boat motor back up?” He slammed on the brakes and we jumped out of tha truck and ran ta tha back. We raised the motor, got back in tha truck and I swear on my favorite pair of overalls that tha dang headlights went out again. Hubz wiggled the switch and got them on. We rode for bout five miles with tha lights goin on and off and Hubz steerin and wigglin. When we saw tha lights of tha gas stations at tha interstate we all breathed a sigh of relief. When we pulled into tha parkin lot of tha truck stop we paused for a second ta stare at tha proof of civilized folk that we had all but given up on just minutes before. Hubz then pulled tha switch out and got to the business of straight wiring tha lights.

Once we got on tha interstate I stared out tha window and counted mile markers ta tha beat of the engine backfirein. When we pulled inta tha driveway at home I felt like that girl from the movie Titanic when she was on tha rescue ship and saw the Statue of Liberty.

As I thanked BIL1 for the interview he slowly walked away overwhelmed with emotion from reliving this horrible tragedy, I heard him whisper “tell tha story, warn others of tha truck of death.”

The Make-Up Artist

Word to the wise - Don't ever let Giggles do your make-up. (I swear she's not a drinker!)

The PawPaw

Bean loves her PawPaw. She has, at times, woken up, waved to me, said "Hey Mommy", and then the next thing out of her mouth is "PawPaw". She is probably his biggest fan.

I'm hoping she'll grow out of it.

That's really an inside joke between my father-in-law and I but nevertheless, I hope she grows out of it.

She is fascinated with him. She thinks he's the greatest thing since her discovery of candy, which I might add was helped along by none other than "PawPaw".

This kid even knows exactly where he works. Now, she is small for her age so she still sits rear-facing in her car seat. She doesn't get to see much when she's looking out the windows while we are driving. It all has to be a blur, especially when Daddy is driving. But as soon as we start driving by his shop, she starts yelling out "PawPaw! PawPaw!". It amazes me that she already has this figured out.

"I piddy."

Bean has two Nannys. The first Nanny is my husband's mother. We'll call her Giggles. Bean's other Nanny is my husband's aunt. We'll call her The Accomplice. (My own mother passed away several years ago so thank God that he saw fit to send other people in my life that love me or at least tolerate me and love my kid.)

This dazzling duo watches Bean for us while we are at work. Giggles and The Accomplice LOVE my child. They think she is the "bee's knees". Isn't that how Nannies are supposed to feel?

Like I said, they love this kid. So much so that they tell her all day long that she is wonderful. They tell her that she is smart and sweet and loving and pretty. I say, well duh, look who her mother is!!!! I haven't gotten anyone to agree with me on that one yet, though.

So the kid hears this kinda talk all day, right?

Well the other evening, I walked into Giggles' kitchen and the Bean came running up to me. She smiled at me and the first thing she said was "I piddy."

There's nothing like a big huge ego on a toddler, let me tell you.

I just looked at her and said "yes, you are pretty but you're smart, too." She said "no, I piddy."

I wasn't getting my point across evidently.

Brother from another mother

My mother used to tell me that when she was pregnant with me she was afraid my brother and I would always fight with each other because there was a big age difference between the two of us.  But when I came along, because I was so beautimous, of course, my brother was very excited.  When I was a baby, wherever we went, he would introduce me to everyone.  My mother told me he would say “this is my little sister.  Isn’t she cute?”  Sadly, my brother passed away when I was very little.  I do have memories of him, though.  I remember his smile and his red hair.  I remember fighting with him over the tv on Saturday mornings.  This was “back in the day” before we ever got a tv with a remote.  I remember the two of us sitting in my dad’s chair watching tv.  He would put it on something that always involved cars.  As soon as he sat down in the chair, I would get up and walk up to the tv and change it to cartoons.  Then I’d go sit back down in the chair and my brother would get back up and change it again.  This would go on and on until my mother would put a stop to it.

I also have a memory of coloring with my brother and not wanting to share the broken cornflower blue crayon.  It was my favorite, you see.  Instead of letting my brother use the crayon, I shoved it up my nose.  I remember the look on his face when I did that.  He screamed for my mother and the only other thing I remember is being in a doctor’s office or emergency room and a doctor standing there with a long tweezer-like instrument.  I have a few other memories but for today I will keep those close to my heart.  My mother was always amazed that I remembered these things.  She thought I was too young.  But I think you can remember things about the people that you love and admire.

I really did admire my brother.  When I married my husband, I was excited because he had two brothers.  I had loved my own brother very much and every year I would put “baby brother” on my Christmas list to Santa even though my mother kept telling me that the “baby factory was closed”.  I thought she must have bad information because I kept seeing other babies pop up all over the place.  Now, with Hubz having two brothers, I thought that Santa had finally listened.  Of course, I’m still waiting on that danged Barbie Dream House.

My brothers-in-law, “the BILS”, are very unique individuals.  And I don’t mean that in a snarky way.  Really. *Insert angelic face.*  Both are very funny, both are great family men, and they both seem to tolerate me pretty well and usually laugh at my jokes which I personally consider to be a sign of truly great thinkers.  One is trying to run his own business and take care of his family which we all know in this economy is not the easiest thing to do.  He has developed this great political mind and will talk about current events in a way that makes me sit there dumbfounded.  The other is an Army man.  He has just come home from Iraq for some well earned R&R with his family.  He has also just met his brand new beautiful baby daughter who thankfully looks like her mother. [I said it.]

The BILS are great guys.  They both make you glad that you know them.  They help me out whenever I need it.  One of them even let me drive his truck once.  As you might guess, that also makes him a very brave man.  I now think of them as my own brothers.  I tease them, get on their nerves, try and make them laugh, try and be there if they ever need me.  I know we can all still get on each other’s nerves from time to time.  (Well, not me, of course, but you understand what I’m trying to say, right?)  But most of all, I admire them.  And I am thankful that I know them.  (But I’m really thankful they both gave me a sister-in-law cause we all know girls are better than guys.)

*Photo Credit: Stockxpert

Families ~ gifts or downfalls?

Families. That one word can mean so many things.  It can mean a new beginning with the birth of a beautiful baby.  Or loved ones who will teach you to tie your shoes, bake cookies with you or help with a school project.  It could be a smile on the face of a loving parent walking you down the aisle on your wedding day. Or a hand to hold during the last precious hours of your life when you are old and frail.  All of these things are some of the wonderful aspects of families.  But then there is the flip side of this coin.

Through my life, I’ve had all different types of family.  Of course I had my traditional family with my parents, brother, and grandparents.  They were the core of my universe.  Sadly, they have all passed on and I am the only one left now.  I’m an orphan.  But along the way, I’ve been able to create other types of families.  I’ve been married into a couple of them.  I’ve been honorarily adopted into some other ones.  I’ve been very lucky to have had all these people in my life.

Sometimes though families break down or hit a bump in the road.  Sometimes the people that are the closest to you, whether through birth or circumstance, are the ones that can hurt you the most in this world.  When this happens, I believe, it is the worst type of pain because you trust and rely on these people and you don’t see the hurt about to hit you when it’s coming from someone so very close to your heart.

Family members can hurt you like no other.  You just let your guard down because you are so close with these people.  And it has happened to me time and time again, but it still just rocks me to my center when it happens.  I was raised as an only child after my brother passed away when I was small. Later on, it was just my mom and I.  So I always wanted to be part of a large family with lots of brothers and sisters.  And when my mom passed away, it left just me.  The one and only person in the whole world that loved me unconditionally was gone and I’d never feel that kind of love again.  Even though I have Bean now and I have that unconditional love for her, it is still different than feeling your own mother’s love.

When I got married (both times), I thought it was a chance to join a huge family and possibly feel that unconditional love again.  Now I will say that I have felt love from both of these families but it’s definitely not the unconditional love that I’ve craved for so long.  And the love that I’ve felt from them does come with unspoken conditions.  When something happens and those conditions come into play, you find out real fast that you are still on the outside looking in.  You are instantly reminded that you are only there because you've been "allowed in" but that will only get you so far.  When you are an orphan on the outside looking in, it is the loneliest place in the world.  And if relations do get better and you try to get back to normal, you never feel completely at ease because you know how quickly it could be wrecked again.

Families, biological or otherwise, can be the greatest gift and the greatest downfall all at the same time.  Sometimes when you think you have a gift, you just don’t see the fall until it’s too late.  You can only pray that you will recover from the tumble.