Elbert Bryman Deason, Jr.

My Daddy's big brother Ebb died last night (this morning, technically) a little after midnight. He was  a bigger-than-life character, I can't believe he's gone. He would always greet me by calling me his favorite niece named Jennifer and he always went around yelling Bah Humbug at Christmas. He told the same jokes every year that were as awful as they were wonderful.

A termite walks in to a pub and asks, "Is the bartender here?"
And the one about the chess nuts boasting in an open foyer.
What would people call you if you were old and fat and one-eyed? (This is a trick question. If you said, "Old One-Eyed Fatty" he'd say "No, they'd still call you Jennifer. They wouldn't change your name just because you were old and fat and one eyed.")

He had a lot more jokes, and that's how I will always think of him.

He was 81 years old. He was a high school principal in Alabama and Tennessee for decades and he was inducted into the Winston County Sports Hall of Fame in 2000. He always grilled the hamburgers and hot dogs at our Saturday-Before-the-First-Sunday-in-May picnic. He grew roses. He smoked a pipe and was a spiffy dresser, even in overalls. He had friends (and probably enemies) everywhere.

He was the kind of person that couldn't be ignored. The world is a more boring place now.

Another dream.
So last night I dreamed that I was walking Hugo on his leash and I decided it would be more fun and faster to fly. I jumped into the air and started flying and I tried to convince Hugo to fly with me. He jumped up at me, but would never just jump into the air and fly. Maybe I expect too much of him?

O.M.G. I just had the craziest dream. My cousin Brian apparently had treasure hidden but to get to it we had to go through several steps, one of which was to go to the public pool and he had to dive into the center of the deep end, unscrew a lighting fixture on the bottom, and get a box out with car keys in it. When we got to that part, he discovered that one of his redneck buddies had taken the keys.

It was weird. Jade and Kayla and Ginger and Dawn were there and Hugo was riding around with us.

Ginger and Kayla can touch their tongues to their noses. Freaks. Jade and I can't. Normal. So Ginger and Kayla made fun of us. Here they are mocking our short tongues.

I LOVE Hugo. Even though he's a pain in the ass. I just wanted to say that.

On the Friday before the first Sunday in May, Daddy and I went walking down Deason Lane with a camera. We saw this coyote and managed to get a good picture. It looked HUGE! The next day we showed the picture to everybody, but John and David (great hunters that they are) claimed that it must be a wolf because the face didn't look like a coyote face. Everybody at the family reunion had a different opinion about what it might be. People thought it was anything from a deer, to a fox, to a wolf. So, Brian and Jade and Dawn and Daddy and Josie and I went out to do a field test and see how big the creature was. In one of these pictures, you can see Drunkle Brian standing with a stick where the coyote stood. I stood there too. And Jade got my picture. Of interest here is the fact that Jade managed to take a picture of me in which I bear an uncanny resemblance to the famous picture of Bigfoot from Frame 352 Patterson-Gimlin film of 1967. Go figure.

Wow, it's been forever!

Well, Hugo is much bigger and I haven't been writing. Stupid FaceBook and stupid school work. I want to just do this blog and not Facebook. Let's see if I can. I'm too drunk right now to do much, though.