Sunday, July 8, 2012

The Circle of Trust

I hate the circle of trust.

That's what I've movie-mocked a family tradition that gets imposed upon a bunch of my awkward loved ones every time my aunt breaks out a seven-layer dip in group settings.

For full effect, download the cheesiest song that you can think of and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post. I'm thinking of the '98 World Cup theme song by Ricky Martin.

Every time my extended family gets together, whether it be a national holiday, a birthday party, an accidental run-in at Wal-Mart, we all sit in a circle and go around in order stating what we're thankful for, or what we enjoy about one another, or how blessed we are to have experienced Roll Back prices on those Spalding gym shorts on aisle seven.

Cue awkward moments where the little bugger inside me is begging to be let loose.

Before you judge me on this post keep in mind that I do in fact L-word my family. I really do. They are all great people who I respect and admire and enjoy spending spare time with. Unless of course that spare time gets corralled into a circle of chairs to openly express our feelings for one another in an emotional orgy held every three weeks. That's when I begin tuning out and debating whether bamboo shoots being shoved underneath my thumbnails is a better option.

Maybe it's the influence of alpha females that has spawned this tri-monthly custom. Not to discredit the pure toughness of the males buzzing around my family tree, but let's face it, women rule the world. They are the queen bees, they are the ones who use guilt tactics to get everyone lined up expressing our inner most feelings.

Robert 'Bob' Paulson: "Go ahead, Cornelius, you can cry.". (LTT)

Now sometimes these circles can be uplifting. Take for instance last night at my grandmother's 139th birthday, every one of us sat and let her know how grateful we are to have her be a part of all of our lives. That's fine, the dear woman deserved it. But when everyone is tearing up and spiritually testifying how delicious that rocky road ice cream is, well, then we have a problem.

And yes this is just another rant about how emotionally unstable I may be, not wanting to share my innermost feelings with anyone who shares my bloodline. But I am just a half-empty man, a man who despises the circle of trust and the feminine traits that take over every family gathering.

Robert 'Bob' Paulson: "We're still men."

Narrator: [slightly muffled due to Bob's enormous breasts] "Yes, we're men. Men is what we are."

What do you think?


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