the challenge

What follows is not the most cohesive entry I've ever written, but the drugs they gave me to keep me mobile, upright, and keep my lungs and back from exploding are being NO help with that.

Rewind it a few days though and between fits of coughing my brain cells out of my head, I managed to go see my niece graduate from college this weekend while at the same time enjoy, for the most part, a miniature (and all too short) family reunion.

My favorite first nephew, or at least the oldest one, and I have had an ongoing smack-talk fest about our billiards skills. It has been going on for years, but the last time we managed to be in the same pool hall, much less the same state, was four years ago.

It was a draw.

No, really.

Okay, well... I did manage to win a few and we both had large laughs as we both flirted with the cute waitress at the bar.

That was a weird experience, flirting with a waitress with your much younger nephew... but, hey, it was fun.

He currently lives in Texas and serves in the Army, for those interested in the details, while here I am in RVA (Richmond, Virginia, for those not in the know with the lingo) so our chances to play are few and far between. He has been serving our nation in Iraq for the past 7 months and we've been "harassing" each other about that 9-ball rematch for months with fine little jabs as these:

So when you get back, make sure you're ready for another lesson.
Exercise your back... cause you're gonna bend over all those times to rack 'em.
I'm ready to play - the extra money will make a nice down payment on my next new car.

You get the idea.

Well, he managed to get lucky and his short 15 days of leave would occur right when my niece was graduating from JMU and everyone in the fam just happened to be able to get free for this one weekend.

Next thing you know, it became a family reunion.

It's nice to see family - it's really nice to see how easily we fall back in to the same old family routines we had from the way back time - after dinner kidding, the younger generation jumping up on the getting old one for some rasslin', hootin, and hollerin... and discussions of bad jokes past and times aplenty fill the rooms with warmth of memories of hearth and home...

Ahhh... reminiscing... both my brothers and their wives and all the kids... Even the newest youngest one has started to come out of his quiet little shell and show he does indeed come from the same obnoxious, arrogant, funloving family tree.

And, of course, with my first nephew back in the same state, well... we were gonna get to settle the smack talk for real. He even brought his own sticks to his flight so he'd be well-armed.

And wouldn't you know it? Security changes from 9/11 have caused such a ruckus in what is allowed and NOT for luggage.

His pool cues?

Not allowed.

I guess they're afraid he would knock the pilots balls into a corner pocket or something...

Anyway, we had to deal with the Lords of Lost Luggage as his sticks had to come over on a completely separate flight, arriving some 3 hours after the rest of the family. These are the people who claim complete and total ignorance as to the true location and/or nature of your lost luggage. Plausible deniability, I say, in case they happen to like whatever happens to be "missing".... either that, or they are the ones who send lost luggage to the place where ball point pens and single socks go...

And as the black sheep of the family, I got to stay behind and wait for Nick's Sticks to arrive.... but, hey, Nick waited with us.

It was really nice getting to chill out on my deck for a few hours, just sitting in the beautiful sun, drinking beers with my nephew. He's a good kid... and chicks dig him.

Bonus. Almost as good as taking a puppy to the park, having him with me at the bar.

Oh, and the rematch?

A draw.

And I've been informed that the rubber match has to be held in Texas, his home turf.

Great.

Anyone here know how to speak Texan?