My father’s friend’s brother is here with us. He’s a large man with a clinical breathing problem. He requires oxygen tanks for daily life. He walks slow. He was a trucker before his current medical condition. I went to bed last night unimpressed. His favorite subject is farts. He likes to expound on his own for hours. And share them with the class. He uses the word “nigger” a lot. He never doesn’t smile.
This morning my father and I shared a boat with him. He knows fishing like the horse whisperer… etc. He was very patient with me. Even jovial. He explained as much as I was willing to hear about boating, fishing, birds, seasonal applications of all. I swear to you, he made this morning fun. Then we came back to the cabin and he started to make a chill. I explained to him what a rue was and how to add sweetness to counterbalance the tartness of the tomatoes. He agreed jovial with me as he continued to make the chilli his way. It was insanely delicious. The he picked up his guitar and start to play beatles songs while his brother sang. He’s better than me. A lot better. We drank together. And laughed.
I accidentally learned three things from him today that I will take with me forever. How to incorporate jalapeños properly into food. How to fish. How to play ‘Here Comes the Sun’.
I motherfucking LOVE being wrong about people.
It’s been a good day.
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