My Uncle is a man of respect. I earned his respect years ago but to this day, I don’t park in his spot or walk on his grass without his permission either. Years ago he picked up the nickname “Easy Going”, just “Easy” if your ranking was high enough but he was always just Unc to me, no matter my rank.
A great place to start about Unc is my first day on my first job laboring for Pop’s brick crew. Now whether you’re military or not, keep that sort of environment in mind to help understand more of what it’s like working with the man who, in my mind, was the meanest (insert word I wouldn’t dare use out of fear of him reading this) I ever met, but turned out to actually be Easy Going.
Let’s be frank. If Pop was the wise General Eisenhower, Unc was Sgt Slaughter. It sounds comical. And it was, as long as it was directed towards anybody else. And just so you know, it was, at the drop of a hat. Now Unc may have a different opinion on it all, so decided to pay him and my Auntie a visit to set straight the Legend of Not So Easy Going.
In my late teens, Pop decided it was time to draft me into the man’s world of hard labor. Nooo problem. I’d deal with a little weather, but I was cloaked in nepotism, I’d just have to appear busy. I’d show my face every morning as expected but no real, actual work. If you got a problem with me, you talk to my (wink, wink) “boss” about it. Not only did my ___ not stink, I was completely convinced it had a slight aroma of cinnamon to it. Wouldn’t you know it? I had that part wrong.
Any construction site you’re at has a certain aura in the early mornings. Whatever your feelings for your own job on that site may be, makes no difference. There’s always a calm before the storm. You’re aware the work is coming soon, so you share a few laughs about the night before. Sort of a pep talk. So that morning when a fellow worker walks up, chomping away at a juicy plumb, Cinnamon boy here asks where can I get one. He casually says, over in the cooler on Unc’s truck. It’s just a simple chest type cooler. I lift the lid, reach for that deep red flawless beauty tucked away in the corner by that banana and within a split second, I thought I heard the voice of God say, “boy git to hands outta my cooler”! I can’t remember if I looked up to the heavens first before I looked in the direction of the voice. In hindsight, I’m sure everyone else there was laughing before I even got to the truck. They either already knew or had heard stories about putting your hands on Unc’s stuff. While there are people who smile and then stab you in the back. My Uncle would smile and then slap you for not smiling back.
Okay, we’re about to handle this right now. Obviously he doesn’t know who my father is….oh, can’t pull that one. And at that moment I realized I was in a real life “good cop/bad cop” situation. This can’t be. The guy just waved and good morninged me literally 60 seconds earlier and now lightning bolts are firing out of his mouth.
I took a lot of very fair lumps from my Uncle though. It took time but eventually I learned that Unc is tough but fair. Everyone got that same treatment. Unless you were a niece or other female family member. Then it’s, “how’s my baby girl doing”. Feel all that contempt in my words? Those fair lumps forged what I am today. I had the honor of sitting with the man himself, along with my lovely Auntie to hear about the other side of him.
There’s such a lovely contrast between the two of them in how he can raise hell and she can be so unaffected by it. She has a demeanor so understated because she really seems unbothered by things that would traumatize a more obsessive person. It’s best said that in an argument, he’d really let you have it, but she’d say, “ you can have it, whatever”. You would not believe the balance they have.
We talked for hours about his Naval history, fatherhood, family and adversity. I lost track of time and barely beat my son home from work to enjoy some quiet time alone. He’s a much more lovable guy than I remember as a kid. It’s just with Unc you toe the line. He demands respect. I told my Auntie how he was the only person in a job site where even the site superintendent treated Unc like he was the one handing out the paychecks.
In the early days working with Unc, he told me everyday how pitiful I was. “Boy just give it here, can’t do nothin right”. I really was every bit as pitiful as he would say. When I eventually learned to toe the line with Unc, I became Mr. Pitiful. Now that I’ve earned the respect of Easy Going, I would be deeply offended if he ever called me anything else. Thanks Unc.
