He was and is the eldest grandchild on both sides and the eldest child born to two eldest children. Like them, he is intelligent, very much so, and like them he was been spoiled and petted since his first days on earth. He also was born with both hips displaced due to my sister’s bulimia; she had only gained, I think, 11 pounds with him, and was, throughout her pregnancy, binging and purging as she had been for about, oh, 6 or 8 years by then.
That’s not good, as it turns out, for baby. Y’think? So the ride – his – hasn’t been perfectly smooth, is what I’m saying. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say he was conceived and born in darkness, yet since then, it’s been pretty light, breezy and damnably easy.
He’s a college grad, a Bulldog, and when at Yale (his father’s alma mater), he experimented with drugs, leading to a few escapades with members of his own sex (he used to confide in his Auntie M). Shortly after that, he embraced a conservative Catholic lifestyle, including beliefs like abortion is murder, all sex outside that which is procreative is a sin, homosexual marriage is an evil, society destroying choice, and etc. As you might imagine, he and I have fallen out.
Actually, we fell out – or rather I gave up on him after he ran for office, telling me he’d lost because the other guy – the other candidate – was queer and black so of course he beat my nephew in a blue segment of Maryland. Ick. Racist, homophobic, sexist, misogynistic – he’s the whole package of bigotry. I walked away, we were at a family party, but I should’ve said, maybe he worked harder than you did. Maybe he doesn’t home school his children, if he has any, radiating superiority and religious purity (ICK) everywhere he goes, as you do. Maybe he was and is the better candidate for the job, you pluperfect asshole.
In truth, he’s his father’s son, and his dad is all of the above, and a person of disinterest to me for decades. Oh well! That’s fam-damn-ily!
I bring this up because I receive a fatuous, self-referential holiday letter annually from said bigot (the nephew). It arrived rather late, as – one presumes – they just had (my sister texted me) their 5th child on 12/24 (birth control is a total no-no), but why they didn’t name him Jesus is beyond me. Maybe it’s too Latino?
The letter, which I didn’t and don’t ever read, rather tossing the entire thing into the paper recycling at the Post Office when I see the Maryland postmark, generally speaks of violin lessons and school excellence (the kids are now, I think, in public schools, but they might be in a Catholic school), their local church, as well as men’s retreats of a religious nature that Luke has gone on, the mention of which – this is years ago now – made me laugh out loud.
Men’s retreats, huh? Oh I bet you love those, Luke.
I wish him and his brood well. I also wish for them to stay as far away from me as is humanly possible. This year, I’ve written and sent a note asking he remove me from his holiday letter list, because save your postage, I don’t want to hear from or be in relationship with bigots.
Let’s see if Mr. Big(ot) respects my request, or not. Fingers x’ed!