Blogging is always something I mean to keep up on. Unfortunately, I have a life and it often gets in the way. This time it was the dreaded opening salvo of the holiday season and a visit from family.
My life is pretty active these days. I’ve got a ton of work to do. I’m in a band. I do a radio show. Thanksgiving saw a wonderful visit from one of my favorite cousins, Caitlin, my Uncle Rick’s daughter. He’s the classy gent with the porn ‘stache in the picture above. Cait and I engaged in such Pell family traditions as listening to Waylon Jennings, playing dominos on the floor and getting blind drunk at a local watering hole.
The two of us grew up together, in as much as I “grew up with” anyone in my family. Her brother is five years younger than me and she’s 8 years younger than me. She lived in Binghamton, NY, I lived in Providence, RI. We’d see each other every couple of years, but such relationships only ever fully come to fruition upon majority of the junior party. As an adult, she teaches yoga and lives in the Bay, which makes the two of us close enough for jazz.
One thing I don’t think I’ll ever quite get used to is being the “adult” generation of my family — my parents now being the “old folks” who occupy the niche once held by my grandparents and their generation. While some of the latter are still around and kicking (OK, maybe not “kicking”) that seems to be the lay of the land. We’re now the ones who sit around telling stories about our childhood or going over arcane points of Pell family lore or bitching about our partners or our careers or whatever.
I said in a previous post that I never felt terribly connected to my family growing up. My brothers are much older than me, and I came in the middle of a bizarre lull in Pell breeding, with almost no cousins the same age as me. Now that I’m an adult, I’m in control of who I see in my family and when. All told, along with being able to buy my own liquor and have hamburgers for breakfast if the spirit moves me, it’s one of the best parts of being an adult.
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