Jenna, Batcar & Me

Posted by Tasha (Chicago, United States) on 5 May 2008 in Art & Design.

In the end, of course there was the requisite, "Do you want a picture of the two of you with the car?" Do I ever! There's never enough photos of my friends or batcars. Plus, I've decided to get over my hatred of being on the other side of the camera. It's just a camera, it's not going to steal my soul.

So, now without having a single photograph of him, I have a set of photos that will never cease to make me think of my Uncle Allen. Of course, I'm still not sure that 1) I've spelled his name correctly or 2) that I've even spelled it consistently throughout this set. If one or both of those is incorrect, I apologize to him, his immediate family and our mutual extended family. His extended family is probably nowhere near this blog and doesn't need an apology, I hope.

So, of course, I've spent all this time talking about how my uncle used to have a show car. I expect an e-mail from Aunt Mary or Grandma here soon telling me I'm wrong and it was a racecar and everything I've written was incorrect. (But cute in it's incorrectness.)

Thing is, I distinctly remember the story being about a show car. (Well, having a show car in it. Obviously it's really about my aunt and uncle, and how family is formed and connected - no matter how tenuously.) I know my uncle had a racecar at one point when I was a kid. Because, unlike the show car, I distinctly remember seeing the racecar in their garage all of once. And going to one of his races, though I remember very little about it.

As I understand it, my uncle is racing again (and with that Bill has perked up and has questions, I'm sure). He stopped racing while his kids were young, which I didn't really know.

I don't really know my uncle well, but he's cool. When I was getting married to my now ex-husband, he made suggestions about where to get the cake. I saw him a few more times than usual, because the flower shop I went to was right across the street from his service center. My mother told me once, a long time ago, that he gave me a shark when I was very little, because I was so in love with his aquarium, and specifically the shark. (And with that, Angelique is thinking how we were clearly destined to become friends.)

My uncle doesn't come to many family gatherings, and never has. However, it's always nice when he does come. He's got a nice voice and good hair. And once he accidentally broke one of my grandparents' chairs, which resulted in my getting a table and three-chair set when I got married. That table came in super handy in the tiny apartments of D.C. Thanks, Uncle Allen!

(Psst -> Aunt Mary, if he doesn't normally check this thing out, could you tell him about these last few posts, if you think he'd be interested? Grandma, if Aunt Mary doesn't normally read this thing, could you do the same for her so she can do that for me? Thanks!)

Okay, tomorrow starts lost of animals.