Brother, Aliens and Cheeseburgers

Jarod James Buckman

It occurred to me, when I was told that I would not be able to write about funny things for a week, that I speak very little of my brother.  It wasn’t intentional, I just don’t see him very often and when I do, it’s a deal let me tell you.

My brother and I were very close when we were little…we did a lot together.  We had our moments…according to my mom he beat me up a lot…I don’t remember that and it is just as well.

My brother works for a company out of Chicago that welds railroad ties.  He has for many years.  Although this requires him to work away from home for a good part of the year, and he doesn’t always get to visit the most glamorous parts of the places he has to be, I am a little jealous of how much of our country he has seen.

I think there is a website called “not right in the head.”  It is definitely the best phrase to use to describe my brother.  He is very quirky.  Does a lot of things we have to just sit back and shake our heads at.  However, my brother has always been there for me, whenever I have needed him.  Even if he reminds me that he did me a huge favor.

This is the guy who took me to my first ever Redneck Fishing Tournament in Bath, Illinois.  We had more teeth in our boat than the entire crowd had that was sitting on the beach.  A beach you couldn’t pay me to sit on because it literally smelled like dead fish.  The day was a blast and truly one of my favorite memories of him.  But so is the year that he, Donnie Taylor and Chris Schultes came up to the resort during mom and dad’s vacation and brought some obscene amount of Busch Light with them, to the complete embarrassment of my mother…and would pull his car literally down to the beach and crank his stereo.  This was a “family resort.”  Mother almost died.  In fact I am not sure she even came out of the cabin except the one time to come and tell Chris she didn’t like him, to which he replied, that’s ok, I am not fond of you either Rita…and they have gotten along great ever since.

I have a lot of memories of his shenanigans, but the two that come to mind, that literally made me sit back and wonder if mom had dropped him on his head, were after he had his own children.  And one story that I just heard last night, that makes me want to shake him…of which he would just laugh and probably say, “NO RUNNING.”  It’s one of his favorite go to lines, even if running is not happening anywhere around you.

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, DAY ONE of FUNNY/HAPPY.  Here we go.

I do not remember the kids’ ages when this occurred, but they were outside in the yard, dusk or after, and they could see the lights from the ABATE that was going on at the Knoxville Fairgrounds.  You know like circus lights, swirling all over way up in the sky.  They simply asked their father what it was, to which he blatantly replied it was the arrival of the aliens.  That the only way that they could save themselves was to go inside put foil over their heads and wait in a closet.  To which these poor little children complied.  We were not aware of the situation until I think I called for something and asked what the kids were doing to which he replied they were in the closet. (I personally thought they should come out of it) but when I asked why he told me.  Gullible children yes…key word being children.   Shock and Awe.  Two words consistently used when describing my brother’s antics.

The next story I just learned about last night.  My friend Angie asked me if I had heard about the Cheeseburger story…ummm no, who is it in regards to?  Your nephew.  Dear God, what now.  Well they were bringing him home after a game one night and were driving through McDonalds.  Her daughter ordered two hamburgers and as serious as a little person could be, my nephew says, you can do that?  Angie laughs and says well yes, of course.  You can order as many as you want.  To which he replies, his father (MY BROTHER) told him that you are not allowed to order more than one cheeseburger at all McDonalds.  Is this Angie’s responsibility to tell him that his father flat out lied to him?  No.  This is a boy is who is probably already 5’8” in the 7^th grade who could probably eat a pound of hamburger.  Do you want your children to grow up to be made fun of?  I think not.  I hate that he had to be in 7^th grade to learn that his father is a ruh-tard who has been yanking his chain since God knows when.

The best part of the whole Cheeseburger story is when on the way home I ask my niece, who is 9, if she too thought you could only order one Cheeseburger at McDonalds and she laughs hysterically and says, no my dad told my brother that and he believed him.  She doesn’t let my brother pull crap over on her.

My heart goes out to these children, who thankfully will never be captured by Aliens, but who will also starve to death eating at McDonalds with the mandatory Cheeseburger limit they apparently enforce.