Five of Six
OK...HEADS UP. THIS IS A LONG ASS POST.
Still here? Good. I salute your attention span.
Yesterday, I went to go visit my dad...my biological one. For those who don't know...a little backstory...(cue wayne's world flashback do-do-do thing...)
Sooo...it's Los Angeles in the late 70's...Mom is an exchange student going to college, and my dad lives there, working as a cop (later this will prove VERY ironic). For those who'd like to know, picture the mishmash...two latin people, she's an Aries, he's a Pisces. Explains a lot. Mom's 19, dad's 29. Nice little age gap, don't you think? It makes me feel a bit better about being 26 and surrounded by nubile young co-eds in the 18-22 range. So, they meet, they marry, and at 1:23 PM on November 3, 1979, they have me. According to mom, she wasn't in labor very long. In fact, she says, I was 10 minutes away from being born in a taxi. See Jess? Your first cab ride was in San Diego with me, when you were 19. Cab rides = memorable, rare. My first was prenatal by only 10 ticks. After that, with all the travel in Mexico, overseas, and getting around San Diego...well...no wonder I'm so accustomed to them.
Anyway, at my age 2, they move to podunk, Bridgeport, Texas to be closer to my dad's parents. At age 9 they divorce. Dad moves somewhere in the DFW burbs, re-marries, has another kid. Evidently, the "new town, new wife, new kid" routine was nothing new to him. See, in my teenage years, some revelations are made known to me. Mom was not my dad's first wife. I am not my dad's first kid. The exact numbers are fuzzy, but evidently, dad's been busy.
Long attention spans rule, especially in the context of this abbreviated world. Thanks for reading.
So...fast forward to yesterday. I am in the company of my oldest half sister and her mother, who I am seeing for the first time since I was little...too young to remember. My sister is 33, her mom is 54, a year younger than dad. In tow is my hitherto unkown neice, a very cute four year old chatterbox. We're making our way past the front door, reading "Seagoville Federal Correctional Institute", and he's not a guard, he's an inmate. Told you his being a cop was ironic. Turns out that a few years ago, while I was in the navy or Louisiana, I don't remember which, he was busted for trafficking obscene amounts of marijuana.
Anyway, we hug, say hi, catch up, and among talking about how things are going here in Denton, and how mom's handling cancer, I casually ask him...how many. Turns out to be less than was rumored...six kids, four wives. His nine years with mom were the longest he stayed with anyone. No one else made it past three. That must say something. Still, he's cheated on every one of them. Also, as it turns out, I was the only one of his children to inherit his green eyes...well, half of them, anyway. I have two recessive genes for different colors, evidedntly...green from dad, and hazel from mom. Hence, I got hazel-in-green. And six brown-eyed brothers and sisters (Renee included, the only sibling on my mom's side) who are rather envious. Go me. Recessive genes kick ass.
I'm having merlot, and I propose a toast. Let's drink to long attention spans.
It's funny...He writes down all his kid's names, in order, on a paper towel, and now that it's all laid bare, I quizzically reply:
"Only six!?!?"
Everyone present, but especially my sister's mom, has quite a chuckle at that. I imagine my mom, and anyone who knows my family would have a good laugh at it as well. It goes to show the sort of stock I come from, and should explain a lot...it's a male lineage of serial romancers, womanizers, cheaters, divorcees, drug runners, and all around horny bastards. This is the main reason why I scored so high on the Ghenghis Khan Genetic Fitness Test.
Soon enough, he smiles and asks me:
"So, why haven't you got me any grandkids?"
I reply, "Two reasons...first, I really don't want to take on that responsibility until I'm good and ready, and second, contraceptives."
I'm not offended by that question at all. It's one part of the mold I like to break, having somewhat removed myself from Mexican stereotypes. Sometimes my roomate says I'm trying to be white...I say I'm just trying to be me. Evidently, being Mexican, 26 years old, never married, and having no kids is just downright WEIRD. Still, in all seriousness and bringing the race factor into play, think about dancing. The best analogy I've heard is that dancing is a "vertical expression of a horizontal desire". With that in mind, perhaps--and I'm speculating here, this is purely theory--a culture's dances are reflective of that people's collective sex drive. And, when you think about it, a lot of the most passionate and sexiest dances on the planet are latin in origin...tango, salsa, mambo, rumba, cha cha...get the idea? Not to absolve myself of personal responsibility, but I do think Bonnie was right when she mentioned how this factors into my problematically high sex drive. There's a few stereotypes I couldn't absolve myself of.
By the way, your attention span positively GLOWS in the candlelight...
So, finally, visiting hours at Seagoville Federal are over, and we're on our way out. As we leave, my rediscovered sister remminds me:
"Still, just think: us six are only the ones he KNOWS about."
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Anyway, on an unrelated note, here's a snippet of a wonderful conversation between Marion and I...we have the most awesome convos sometimes.
Marion: I probably need to update my OD, it has been like a couple of weeks.
Me: yup
Me: you need to OD. might give you incentive to lay off
Marion: Open Diary, homo.
Marion: And I HAVE laid off.
Me: i know. just giving you a hard time
Marion:
Marion: When you get the chance, look at my last entry and tell me what you think about the notes my former girl-something wrote... I don't know how to take it.
Marion: It makes me kinda giddy.
Me: this comment?
Me: "Why don't you ever write? Blagh! I wanna call you...Would that be weird? I dunno. Please get your cute little ass on here and write"
Marion: LoL Mostly yes.
Me: *sigh*
Me: you women just don't take compliments well, do you?
Marion: LoL I don't know.
Me: you don't. the only exception to that rule is when a woman is hot and knows it, and is so godawfully full of herself
Marion: LoL
Marion: I thought those were the type of girls you usually liked.
Me: no. those are airheads, models, and gold diggers. i'd rather have insecure sorts like you. there's another, unbelievably rare exception that bears mention...that is a woman who knows her strengths but doesn't let them get to her head, or milk them for all their worth. the best find, but damn near nonexistent.
Me: those are the only women who can sincerely take a compliment
Marion: Quite true.
Me: they're somewhat more common in europe.
Marion: LoL
Me: i think it could be an indicator of a region's self-image as a whole...kinda like how biologists use amphibian populations as an early warning sign of changing trends due to man's intervention, seasons, cyclical shit, ect. those women are like social amphibians. their population is delicate, affected by advertising and common diet.
Marion: Beautifully said.
Me: thank you
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I should mention, I find a long attention span to be very alluring in a woman...