^That was what I said about my family. I called them "nice" and "good" people.
Weeeelllll...... that's not entirely true.
In fact, living with the Fullers is kind of what I imagine living with a small group of terrorists would be like.
Take for example this video my brother sent me tonight.
I received more than one clip, but I could never really tell what was bringing about Angry Neal. So I asked him.
"What are you doing to piss him off?"
His response?
Oh, that. Naturally. ... My bad. I should have known.
Keeping the above in mind, lets talk about a bigger issue.
It is somewhat of a well known fact that I am the least favorite of the Fuller children. That briefly went away when I was in law school, but since sinking back into a life of harrowing disappointment, I can once again claim that title without much reservation.
Don't believe me?
Check out this text conversation from a few weeks ago:
As you can tell from reading, I was in the middle of the interstate when a pretty legit police chase went down. You can read all about here: http://www.ajc.com/news/news/high-speed-police-chase-on-i-20-westbound/ncgRG/.
Now, as a precursor, here's what responding texts from my family should have looked like. This was a conversation with my friend Emlyn who received the exact same text above as they did.
Here are four things that Emlyn did that I think would be a pretty basic response in such circumstances:
(1) She validated the insanity of the situation.
"OMG!!!!! Craziness!!!!!" (By using capital letters and multiple exclamation marks, she made certain that I knew that she was taking this ordeal very seriously.)
(2) She assessed the situation. She ensured my safety was secured.
"Are you ok? Are you moving yet?"
(3) She immediately looked to outside sources to gather information she perceived pertinent to my well-being.
"I tried to google it. Here's the link from ajc.com"
(4) And finally, she continued to safeguard my security.
She not only told me to "lock my doors," but also found local traffic updates to make certain that I could maneuver through the build-up of resulting traffic safely.
What a picture of consideration and concern.
Here's what I got from my family:
Quite the difference in responses.
At least my brother had somewhat of enough decency to "hope I was strapped." (That's "strapped with a gun" for anyone who might be reading this outside of the southeastern United States. It's okay, we carry them here like a hipster with Starbucks outside a Bon Iver concert. Translation: We got this.)
Anyway, his unexceptional chivalry was soon trumped by his constant need to "one-up" everyone. And in my opinion, the FBI being in Sylacauga, Alabama doesn't upstage my police chase story WHILE ITS FREAKING HAPPENING.
At any rate, at least Justin addressed me directly. That same can't be said for the people who produced me.
Complete inattentiveness on their part.
Even when I called them out for being the worst people on the planet, I was met with wordlessness. The whole thing is even more despairing, because its not like they were so busy at work they didn't have time to respond to the situation. They obviously found time to respond to Justin. My mother even found time for cynicism and ridicule with her echoing of Justin's sentiments... which I think were pretty self-evident in the first place.
You know, I even gave them the benefit of the doubt, thinking they were waiting to hear all about it in person once I got home safely.
When I finally did arrive home, I was so excited to tell my story. (It was a pretty ridiculous thing to witness, and my adrenaline was pumped sky high the rest of the day.)
When I walked in the house, no one even mentioned it.
I waited and waited.
Nothing.
Finally when we were in the car on the way to dinner and the conversation had stalled, I brought it up.
"So about that police chase today..."
My father's response?
"Oh, God. Not that again."
This was immediately followed by my brother cutting in with his own story of a could-have-been car accident in a vehicle he was piloting where only his master and superior driving skills saved the entire group he was with from impeding and most certain doom.
My parents hung on the edge of their seats.
Sadly, after years of experience with this rigid group of people, I don't expect much different. And unlike Drake who "started from the bottom, now we on top," .... well, I'm still just very much on the bottom.
Thank God I at least have Emlyn.
No comments:
Post a Comment