Family Can Sometimes Make You Happier Than You Would Be Otherwise

My favorite cousin came up this weekend and I was so glad. So very glad. Overjoyed at the possibility of spending some time with a man that I truly connect with and admire and who, whether he realizes it or not, is like the older brother I never had.

He lives and builds and works in San Diego. He used to do lighting design for clients like the NFL Superbowl, Coca-Cola, Disney, and the Olympics to name a few of the more well-known heavy-hitters.

I say that he builds in San Diego because that's what he does: he designs and then single-handedly coordinates the building and selling of luxurious custom homes in and around the southern San Diego area.

Sometimes when I talk to him it seems that he builds more than anything else-- that designing and getting permits and building and dealing with inspections and selling and then doing it all over again are the only things that satisfy him. But I'm glad to have learned on this last visit that this hasn't been the case for the past year or so.

Suddenly (or so it seems to me, since this is the first time I've seen the guy in about a year and half) there's a woman calling him everyday on his fancy new cellie. She helped him pick it out, or something intimate like that. He's letting her in I think, in his own hermit-y, crab-like, Cancerian way.

Hey, listen. I didn't start this to dissect my poor cousin, or make a sarcastic caracture of his life. I love and respect the guy. He has given me his perspective and advice and, very occassionally, firm words that slap harsh reality in my whining face.

He shares himself with me and often times I'm left wondering, "Does he treat everyone like this, since so much of the time he's 'on the job' and has to maintain useful working relationships with so many different people?" I'd like to think not. I'd like to think that our shared zodiac sign, hereditary bullheadedness and similarly sharpened intuition are a stronger famillial glue.

Either way, getting to have dinner with him on Friday at Emmy's (blaring DJ music, broken booth and bitchy neighboring diners aside) was excellent and satisfying.

And even though it was one of the worst football games I've ever seen, in person or on TV, I got to hang out with him and Uncle Fred and my Dad in the blinding windswept rain and cold of Oakland's first truly fall day.

Being around him informs my soul with the true meanings of words and concepts like "family", "honor", "hard work", "respect" and "love".

Once again, it was a glance of time we had together. That's how it goes.

But still, my time with him was excellent and made my whole fuckin' weekend.