Family Bios: Sister Dancing Queen.

Upon the urging of a stylish and comical friend from Grad school, I'm jumping back into this blogging thing. I am going to warm up with some short pieces that offer some insight into the seemingly normal but actually bizarre group of people I call "my family".

This past week Plaxico Burress accidentally shot himself in the leg when he relied upon his elasticized waistband to provide sufficient support for his illegal firearm. On the same day that I found myself shaking my head at the sheer stupidity of his actions, I wound up stuck at a nature reservation where I went for a walk with my sister Dancing Queen. Said sister relied on her elasicized waist band to hold her keys; keys which, naturally, slipped out of her waistband at some unknown location in the reservations. She and I reversed our hike to find the needle-in-a-haystack keys in a reservation that all of a sudden felt as big and vast as Yosemite. We engaged any and all passersby to help us and finally a kind gentleman with a Golden Retriever chased DQ down, keys in hand. A few individuals a couple paces back cheered.

DQ, for all her qualities and implied dancing aptitude, is not a details person. Details, such as, remembering to hold on to the items that will allow her to enter and drive away from her current location. Things always tend to work out for DQ though, there is always a guy with a Golden Retriever to make her day one of many funny anecdotes, rather than the costly and frustrating situation into which it could have evolved.

A legendary DQ occurrence happened when she was visiting me during the dark years of my adulthood. I offered her my car to inspire herself sight seeing of the scenic strip mall after strip mall ambiance that Houston offers a visitor, while I attempted to inspire ESL 6th graders to give a crap about ancient cultures. Lost and paused at a stop light in one of the more dodgy neighborhoods in Htown, DQ sped-dialed my dad and asked this highly helpful question: "Dad I'm at a stop light and there is a gas station on my right. Should I take a left or right." My dad, in Boston, said, "RIGHT!" DQ made the right and somehow found her way to my school to pick me up in time for dismissal.

And although karma seems to be consistently on her side, I would not advise that she obtain an illegal weapon and/or use her waistband as a means to safeguard it. Pretty sure that Golden Retriever walkers would take as kindly to helping her out.