Awesome advice! Thanks for that. I assume that this is something that you’ve tried?
Humor/Satire / Families are Like A$$holes...
As spring erupts all around the great southern city of Atlanta, it reminds me of one thing…. okay so two things…. bikini season is rapidly approaching (yikes!) and my annual family reunion is just around the corner. Every June, my family pours in from all over the country and comes together for a smudge of a weekend to celebrate love, American style. We hug hello, eat our faces off, cry a few tears, laugh uproariously, eat some more, talk about what a great and unique family we have, while at the same time fighting to suppress all the back-biting and ill will that has been brewing all year long. We are a shining example of operational dysfunction. We are truly the all-American family.
We are a small clan by comparison. There are no nametags required and nobody wears matching t-shirts. Its not the large-scale affair where you might run into someone you dated in high school, unaware that you are actually blood relatives. We number under 100 strong and we annually pat ourselves on the back amid bowls of potato salad and brightly colored Jell-O molds, touting that we are close and know the meaning of unconditional love.
When I was younger, I used to believe it. I reveled in the fact that my family wasn’t the kind where siblings don’t talk to each other or the kind where father and son wind up sitting on a couch before a live studio audience because they’ve been sleeping with the same woman. But as I grew and my innocence and blissful ignorance began to fail me, I began to realize that its not that we don’t have the horrible problems that plague the average American family – in fact, some of our problems are actually worse, but we just don’t talk about them. Granted, Uncle Joe and Cousin Jimmy aren’t sleeping with the same woman, but my uncle’s stepson did pawn his antique guns, steal his pain medication (he’s currently battling cancer) and set up a crystal meth lab in his barn. But despite that, every time the stepson arrives at my grandmother’s house for a holiday meal, the door swings wide for him and he’s never denied a seat. However, don’t doubt that before his coat is properly hung, a message is circulated to ensure that everyone immediately goes to hide whatever purses and valuables might be sitting in plain sight. Of course, we won’t have to worry about that this year – he’s in prison.
Sure, my grandfather cheated on my grandmother and hit her once or twice. We just don’t talk about it. Of course, my uncle fondled his stepdaughters. But we sweep that under the rug. And you bet, my aunt only came in to visit once a day for 15 minutes while my uncle was recuperating from having a full colostomy. But we love her anyway. And absolutely, my cousin pulled a gun and shot at his brother in the front yard of their mother’s home before attacking his stepfather with a carving knife. But he’s just had a baby and isn’t he doing great? And yes, my cousin married an one-armed ex-con that had been in jail for murder. But who’s keeping track? And certainly, my aunt’s husband got my mother alone in the dining room one Thanksgiving and tried to kiss her. But he’s just such a charmer! And you better believe that my uncle never had tooth problems – his wife socked him in the head with a cast iron skillet. But she really can be sweet. And it just goes on and on and on… The wheel of ignorance and denial just keeps on turning. For better or worse, Alpha, Omega, Amen…
The sad thing is that I’m tired of keeping quiet. I know that we’re all supposed to love each other and get along. But there must be a point when it’s okay to call “bullshit.” There must be a time when it’s okay to say “you hurt me or someone I love and you’re no longer welcomed.” But to say what we mean and honestly how we feel would probably be met with more offense than taking a shit in the middle of my grandmother’s table. It’s just not done.
I am willing to admit that I am a strange bird. I’m the only child of a Marine Corps Colonel who’s moved more times than I can count. The one smell that reminds me most of childhood is cardboard and packing tape. I’ve had a box cutter in my bureau drawer since I was old enough not to accidentally kill myself with it. So, I tend to deal with the world armed with an entire arsenal of odd tools and coping mechanisms. I’m not the huggiest/loviest thing on the planet. But what I say, I mean and the greatest way that I can show a person that I love them is by offering them the respect they deserve. And in my mind, the greatest way to show a person how much they are respected is to be brutally honest with them. Now, I’m not talking about being honest in a way that would make gouging out their heart with a spoon seem like a kind gesture in comparison. I’m talking about honesty with tact and poise. But there are so many who disagree with me. My mother is the greatest of these. She believes that there is no sense in rocking the boat because nothing ever changes and you’ll probably just upset someone. But why does that matter? It’s not like they’re ever gonna talk about it anyway…
More than anything else, I am looking to the future. I am looking to the days in the (hopefully) not to distant future when I will be bringing children of my own into this family. How do I explain to them that sometimes dishonesty is the easiest policy even though what’s easiest isn’t always right. Is denial and faux harmony better than a family in ruins? Is it best to ignore hurt feelings and trespasses? And when does it become okay to speak your heart? When is it okay to test the conditions of unconditional love?
I am not ignorant enough to think that out there in America is a perfect family. And in comparison, I would be willing to say that we are doing better than many. There are times that I want to stand up and say “that’s it! I’m done!” But as my father has pointed out to me, no matter how hard you try, you can never escape your family. For blood will always be thicker than water. And blood is what allows your heart to keep beating… even when it’s a little diseased.
In June, we will come together to celebrate our family once more. We’ll laugh, we’ll cry, we’ll talk, we’ll eat, we’ll deny and we’ll depart, just as we have for more than 30 years. It’s tradition. And maybe this will be the year that I call “bullshit.” And maybe it won’t. Most likely what will happen is the same thing that always happens – I’ll get wrapped up in the warmth and caring and forget about all the ills and woes that come with family. I’ll reminisce about being young and ignorant of all the ugly skeletons hanging our collective closet. I’ll catch up with my cousins and awe at how fast their kids are growing and how short a time it seems has passed since we were that age. I’ll eat way too much and laugh just a little more. And I’ll feel high all the way home, awash in the feeling that maybe our family is perfect, even though I know its not. We will continue to hurt each other and we will continue to deny it. “Operational Dysfunction” is what I call it and so far it seems to be working. We are the all-American family, for better or worse, Alpha Omega, Amen…
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penny2204 reviewed Version 1 -
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I really appreciate the humor and light-heartedness here on a subject that can be truly distressing. I love that “your family” is as messed up as mine and probably anyone elses. I think the subject matter is a good one—one that nearly everyone can relate to. I liked the beginning a lot. You set the scene well for the family reunion. I was interested and happy to read on. After a few paragraphs, this piece seemed to change. It kind of went from a short story straight into a rant. The examples of your familiy’s behavior were funny, but we got the idea long before you finished talking about it. Then you began asking those serious life questions…’when is it time to call bullshit…Should we rock the boat?...’ What I’m trying to say is that all of these “situations/secrets” and all of the principles in question could make a really great novel if you’ll only tell the story. Let the secrets and your opinions of them unfold within the context of a novel and this will work really nicely. Trying to cram all of this into a shorter piece ends up sounding like a personal rant and it feels like the whole story is given up in the first few paragraphs. That makes me, as a reader, feel cheated. I love the storyline, love the promise of the characters, love your opinions, but dislike the format.
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trav8434 reviewed Version 1 -
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“Its not the large-scale affair…” Apostrophe. Following paragraph, third sentence, same thing.
“And yes, my cousin married an one-armed ex-con…” A one-armed ex-con.
“But what I say, I mean and the greatest way” This confused me at first, though certainly not everyone will feel the same way. “I mean what i say and…” might be better.
“I’ll reminisce about being young and ignorant of all the ugly skeletons hanging our collective closet.” I think “lining” would be better than “hanging.”
I like the two Amen parts of this story. Actually, i like the whole story. The tiny mistakes take nothing away from a paradoxically optimistic look at a family from the point of view of someone who obviously doesn’t care a whip about obnoxious niceties. We all do indeed have a family, so i think this piece of yours should be very popular because of its widespread application.
Travis
DCAllen reviewed Version 1 -
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Well written, but for humor/satire this could be a lot funnier. I would enjoy more of the fast-paced paragraphs that list the dysfunctional relatives. What about us gay men? You’ve got to have a couple of us in your closet. Perhaps an elderly lesbian great aunt? Seriously, more laughs, less pathos would make this piece more enjoyable.
Proofreading notes:
Its not the large-scale affair . . . that its not that we don’t have = It’s
The paragraph about the drug addict relative was entertaining.
carboard and packing tape (nice image, odor?)
scottsta reviewed Version 1 -
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all eights.
this is my favorite line this week:
But to say what we mean and honestly how we feel would probably be met with more offense than taking a shit in the middle of my grandmother’s table.
Course that says a lot about me I guess. I liked your piece. To make it more publishable I think you need a little editing. not a lot. the very ending – and i know the meaning of alpha /omega… isn’t stong enough for me. i would have had the narrator go to the party and begin to squat on grannies table but not do it. that suggestion is purely for ideas. i don’t mean that literally. i think the end needs more strength.
what i mean about the editing. you have lines like
about being young and ignorant of all t
i would choose YOUNG or IGNORANT – not both. they are close enough to give the reader the idea. and that may not be the best example it’s just the one on the last page.
robertryburn reviewed Version 1 -
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Your writing is great. Your who,what,when,where,why and how are all there. I could even feel your words while reading your story.
If you really want to publish do the following:
1. Copyright your story.
2. Print and bind your story.
3. Get a ISBN number and a UPC code printed on the book.
4. Go to your local book store after this is all done and ask them if they
to do a book signing with you as the author.
5. The bookstore will get you customers and you will find out for yourself
if people like your book.
Good luck.
regmusty reviewed Version 1 -
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I couldn’t work out if this was satire or it was the truth, funnily enough i’m Australian and my family is exactly the frigging same as the one you described, thus i got a few laughs out of it.Sometimes fact is funnier than fiction, good observational humour keep it up you have a talent,well done.
ScottBJohnson reviewed Version 1 -
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Well I thought it was a fine piece of writing. I think you did an excellent job of detailing the skeletons in your family’s closet while giving us the sense of deniability that your whole family tends to exude. Now, is it a humor/satire? Hmmmm… I am a little torn on that little detail. It has funny moments, I grant you. Funny in a not so “ha ha” way. There is a bit of sarcasm on the part of the author, and I have been told on here that sarcasm and “satire” aren’t supposed to mix… but I’ll give your story the benefit of the doubt. I think that people can relate to this to some greater or lesser degree. As you say, no family is perfect, though I suppose the majority of families will have a hard time comparing to yours. Anyway, You definitely have writing talent. Keep it up.
arualsuga reviewed Version 1 -
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uhh, that’s not so funny.
You kind of get your point across at the very beginning… your family has discovered the meaning of ‘unconditional love’ and just take comfort in knowing that no matter how offensive you cries of ‘bullshit’ may be, you will be forgiven for them come the next reunion.
I think this would work better in the Journal category. It really isn’t that funny, it’s kind of sad. but you write well and i can relate.
Nicky_Larkin reviewed Version 1 -
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I think this is an interesting study into the question of the generation gap, it poises some hard questions, such as whether the next generation will continue this trend of brushing the bad stuff away under the matt, or will a new approach of honesty be born. And if so, how will that effect family gatherings such as the one described, or will it go as far as rendering these gatherings obselete? An interesting, though-provoking and well written piece.
johnstanley637 reviewed Version 1 -
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It’s fascinating how such a hugely personal sounding piece can resonate truth even on the other side of the Atlantic. I love the conversational tone in which abuse, murder and rape are treated with the same perfunctory tone as food eating and drinking: for to me, that’s the whole point of what’s going in here. Family is something that we have to do even if at times we don’t necessarily feel like it. If there is humour in amongst the truth then it is enjoyably dark and there are undoutbtedly enough stories hinted at here to fill a much longer work.
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