My Homie

This is where the creamy centre of this trip begins. The sole reason I was inspired to re route my trip and to hear stories upon stories of family history, the good the bad and the ugly. I headed to Kansas City, Missouri to see my Great Uncle _________. Yes, remember, the one who hung up on me. If you don't remember, please read blog from beginning.

I was inspired to do this trip for many reasons, but had a scare when a third family member died, three in a short ammount of time. Diabetes and high blood pressure run in my family and so I was surprised to hear my great uncle who is 83 to be healthier than a 20 year old. He is on no medication, he walks with a skip in his step and he goes to the gym 4-5 days a week. I probably mentioned this earlier, that he does push ups and sit ups too, but I like to brag.

I was able to go to the gym right along with him, our days consisted of talking, going to the gym, talking, going out to eat, talking, going for a walk, visiting his wife in a home, then talking again, then watching the 10 o' clock news. He makes me LAUGH like no one!

Uncle paces trying to explain a concept and gets excited about so many things.

The first place he took me to eat was a soul food buffet. Now I can have seconds of collards and green beans, but seconds of home made mac and cheese, fried chicken and neckbone - I couldn't breathe after. I was made fun of because I call it neck of a pig which is formal to family and everyone knows that when you say neckbone it is neck of a hog - not pig by the way, but hog - but when I think of neckbone I think of turkey - Oh dear, the blasphemy.

Then there is the competition between Texas and Kansas City on who has the best bbq. Uncle took me to Gates, it is a huge restaurant where you can have ribs mostly. A huge smoke house where the cooks open up a door in the wall and it's all flames and they're turning ribs and the ribs are smoking. MMMM, best advice is to get ribs with sauce on the side so the meat isn't too overpowered by it and dip it. I have never really got too excited over bbq sauce, but this sauce was amazing. A perfect blend of sweetness, with spice, thick, but not too thick - just perfect. I had some yammer pie too...mmmmmmmm.

Uncle has such a great memory, he can remember dates, middle names, the make of cars, the song that was playing, who married who, old girlfriends of brothers before they got married. He could tell me more about my Dad then I could him even though he has only met him once. Uncle has such amazing skill in story telling I could just listen to him for hours with his beautiful smile and quirky personality. He spoke poetically using 'country' expressions, innuendos and similies.

Uncle used to work on the railroad, he thinks that 'real' work is getting dirty and even his brother (my grandfather) who was a janitor, that was considered easy work.

Now, I am going to appear naive again, but one day he surprised me when he referred to another gentleman of his age as his homeboy. I was a bit jolted because whenever I have heard that term, it was by people my age trying to be thugs or something. Then he explained that in the country that is what folks called each other, because they were from each other's home town. If you think about it, we all kind of came from the south before migrating north, and it was common to have a farm just like my family did and live out in the 'country' and to call someone your homegirl if she was from your home town. It is intersting how that term stayed with those who have migrated for whatever reasons and stick with youth in all urban settings to this day. The term stuck so much that you see white middle class's offspring (like that!?) grabbing their crotches and doing hand shakes trying to be someone they're not. Saying homeboy and not even realising the history behind its use.

Well uncle and I had a fantastic time together and I learned so much about family that I didn't even know existed. Him and I we had our arguements, but we were able to get past them, move on and enjoy the rest of out time together. It was a culture shock for me because he couldn't understand my accent. I guess I have one, he couldn't understand one word coming out of my mouth when I first arrived, so I was made fun of and was asked silly questions like,

'does canada have jazz' in reference to me not knowing some jazz artists he had named. We just giggled as he showed me his antique jazz collection on vinyl. When I told him I couldn't get soul food in Vancouver he was like,

'well what do ya'll eat up there?' A very serious question.

We went to the Museum of Jazz on 18th and Vine a historical place where he used to party back when he was in his 20's, getting awards for dancing the jitterbug with his wife and going to big band dances. He could have orated and given tours at the Museum himself, 'cause he certainly knew a lot more than what was displayed there. Uncle is like an information machine. After the museum, I was looking in the store and this white woman came up to me and said something like,

'oh you're too young to appreciate music like this, I have seen all of these people in here live' and then I turned to her and said,

'oh that is because white audiences were only allowed in the clubs back then weren't they?' then she got all flustered and defensive saying that she only grew up on a farm and didn't know what racism was, etc. I just said smiled and walked away.

I am getting better.

My uncle's house is small, cozy and decorated with antiques. Uncle has lived there for over 40 years. He built the basement himself and his house is so old I had to use an adapter for his electrical outlets when charging my phone! Ha, ha! One thing was that he wouldn't let me walk in his neighborhood alone, even during day light. He said when he moved here 40 years ago, the hood was white, but then blacks started moving in and a 'white flight' happened.

In his own words, 'there are a lot of niggers in this area now'

Well Uncle, he sure had a lot against niggers. He likes black folk, but not niggers. I could add more to this, but Ill just leave it at that.

I thought that I was going to end up in Little Rock Arkansas going to a library and looking up McDaniels and Covingtons, but my cousins came for a visit and I got a ride back with them.

So the journey continues...