Being in your mid to late twenties does not excuse you from the kid’s table. That’s the rule for family gatherings on my dad’s side of the family. Its not an insult to the older members of the family, but rather it gives the cousins a chance to catch up without having to feign interest in more sophisticated subjects.
    At our recent Easter gathering, the “kids” gathered around a card table, the designated kids table at my grandmother’s house, and settled in for our own version of polite dinner conversation. At most gatherings, our conversations take the shape of humourous vignettes with outbursts of laughter sprinkled throughout. An outsider might think we are engaged in some sort of competition, but in my opinion we are just a naturally funny family. I’m not sure I can reproduce the humor on this page, but I will make an attempt.
    While looking through some old photographs, for example, we came across a picture of the oldest grandchild, who I’ll call Jan. She couldn’t have been more than two or three-years or maybe even four years-old in the photo. The picture captures her in a finger painting moment and she is wearing a smock and a shower cap. The shower cap doesn’t capture one’s eye at first, but Jan was able to recall the reason for her interesting head gear. Apparently, she used to watch Bob Ross on PBS and she thought to be an artist was to have a head of tightly wound curls. Who had the heart to tell her that that was his real hair and not some ridiculous wig?
    The other cousins, perhaps less interested in sentimental photographs, began to discuss the feasibility of a Buxton militia. Not a violence promoting militia, but more of a group to keep residents on their toes. The group would roam the streets, robbing local mini-marts of their Mountain Dew supplies and causing your run of the mill shenanigans. The group would take over the Buxton Old Home Days event, which used to draw quite a crowd with rides, games, greasy food, and fireworks. Maybe the event could use a little help as the fireworks tend to be the only draw these days. The group decided my younger brother’s truck would be their means of transportation due to its uniqueness. The Ford pickup has been through a lot in recent years: for one, my brother hit a tree one morning on his way to school (he was ok, but it looked like a rhinoceros ran into the passenger side door)and shortly after, I hit the driver’s side door while backing out of my parent’s driveway. Luckily, my brother has learned to take pride in the vehicle’s appearance.
    We also discussed the possibility of my brother, a University of Maine student, appearing in the school’s promotional spots on television. The ads are becoming more prevalent and I can’t help but wonder if the school is in dire need of funds. I would also be interested in knowing if those commercials have had any impact on prospective students. The cousins suggested my brother really play up the Maine stereotype and throw in a few ain’ts while describing his college experience. I think such an appearance would spark curiosity and bring in more people for campus tours.
    I hope this column hasn’t completely bored those of you who don’t know my family. Every family has their own inside jokes and just because no one else understands them, doesn’t mean we can’t laugh for hours and look like lunatics. I guess we’ll always be stuck at the kids’ table.