advice from the last place expected (g2)

You ever hear those jokes about the family gatherings and that one uncle whose always racist or vile as shit? The one who is a complete and utter fucking embarrassment when you want to bring anyone home to meet the family? It’s not always an uncle. It just seems to be often enough that its become a trope.

He’s the guy I fact check on facebook when he shitposts about whatever democratic politician has met his ire as drinking the blood of pure, white, christian children. I put snopes links on almost all of his socio-political posts. I don’t understand him on pretty much any level and he doesn’t understand me either, but he’s one of the few elements of my family that has ever tried to stay on good terms with me.

I suppose guilt might be one element. He was the one who took me away from my mother and ensured Grand could do anything they wished legally. Unfortunately, not too long after, he spent much of the next thirty years being a pariah of the family because of Grand. It wasn’t until Grand was put in assisted living that the remaining children went through all of Grand’s accounts and paperwork and the grand claims of my uncle owing Grand anything were finally proven untrue.

My only theory as to the why of it, being early offense in discrediting him meant what he did to me and my mother at Grand’s direction would not get out, or be believed if it did. I don’t know and don’t really care anymore, but I’ll be damned if he will pull Grand’s shit unchecked in social media, or anywhere else I see it.

“Do unto others…”

This uncle always seems to get in touch when things aren’t going exactly stellar in life and I really don’t like talking about anything until I’ve resolved it. It’s like the family is drawn to failure, usually to gloat, though not usually in his case. I do get the stereotypical criticisms of how I should plan things or organize my life or finances, but when you’re not in the same demographic and don’t have the same experience, you can’t really relate and understand another’s plight.

However, we got to talking about casual things and we danced on things we could make, or fix, or enhance… this is our safe zone. He sent me some images of stuff he’d done to his own home (as we’d been doing improvement on our own) that made me realize Grand was right when they said he was the only one in the generation before me to have any artistic inclination.

His approach to what he does is without regard and he would not call it artistic himself. He slaps together what resources he already has just to see how it comes out in the end. And it is turns out surprisingly creative:

I was complaining about how some of the things I wanted to do with my house were out of my skill set. He called bullshit and said it was easy. As though knowing how to score drywall for a rounded effect or knocking out a load-bearing wall are basic knowledge. On the other side of that, he knows the word “motherboard” when it comes to computers, but believes it has something to do with gerbils due to the sounds that come out of his computer when its running. But some of the stuff he’s telling me makes sense and if I was a more meticulous sort, might actually be doable.

But he finally gets to the question of what I’m doing work wise and I’m forced to confess that I was laid off on Valentine’s of all things. With the corona virus now an issue, this has made things a lot more difficult. I’ve been contacted more than a dozen times from as many companies about one single position, but not a lot from anything else and not a lot of anything else for which to apply.

So he says…“well… if the positions you want aren’t there, maybe its time to create your own?”

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