Three Blind Lives

i have a cousin who i am not close to. she lives in alabama and the last time i saw her all she had to say were things like this: bong, crack pipe, whatever, they're all the same! they're all criminals!

she is on her third marriage. she is married to her father's lifelong best friend. he is nearing 70 years old, she is 39. she just had a baby with him.

before him, she was married to a gay man. well, that's what my grandmama told my sister. they never had sex. they were married for three years. she saved up some insane sum of money to throw herself a lavish wedding to the gay man. she saved money for a YEAR. this guy used to carry a handgun in his fanny pack when he took their two chihuahuas out for walks at dusk.

before him, she was married to a preacher's son. he abused her. he beat her up. then he bought her horses. she stayed married to him for ten years.

interesting, isn't it?

here's some more:

her father, my uncle, who i was close to as a child, used to do deep diving, rescue diving, something like that, where he would dive underneath barges to check shit out, fix stuff, find stuff. he couldn't see anything under there, it was zero visibility water. this career, these activities really blow my mind. it's so scary. can you imagine? it's like being totally blind AND not being able to breathe.

then my uncle became a cop. he used to say he was going to go "pop some nigger ass because nobody else is going to do it." he got so into that, that he was promoted to undercover narcotics officer. he believed that people who smoked pot were the root of all evil. he said to me once, "lou. these people are criminals. they don't care about being in control. i would never do drugs because i like being in control. you can't trust people who don't like being in control." i didn't say anything to him right then, but it got me thinking. everybody likes being in control, it's human nature. it all depends on how you look at it. he had no idea ever that i was a hardcore pothead for 15 years and that by smoking so much pot, i was indeed controlling myself and the perceivable world around me. he's a grown man. why did i, as a teenager, have more sense than a grown man?

then uncle developed vertigo and has, ever since, been pretty much confined to his 40 year old wooden kitchen chair that has a holster underneath it holding a gun, just in case someone breaks into the house, despite the sticker on the front door window stating, "this house protected by smith and wesson."