DALLAS and MESQUITE, Texas, November 23, 2005 — It was all about relatives today. Doing what it is necessary to enjoy them and have them enjoy themselves.

My dad and I went over to my aunt's apartment. She headed out to the beauty parlor and then planned to make some pies. I called my cousin's wife to see what she'd like me to do for the dinner. I offered to go buy and/or cook a vegetable dish. She said, "You know what would really be good? That creamed spinach they have at Boston Market." I got directions to one near her house. I sat around with my dad and my uncle, reading the paper and working crosswords while they watched The Price is Right. I watched my watch. I figured Boston Market opens at 11 or so, right If I got there when they opened....

So, I timed my foray over to the place she'd described. I got there before it opened, went to the Einstein's Bagel place that is always next door to Boston Market due to the common parent company. I got a large coffee which the guy convinced me to buy in their Holiday commuter mug. "Only forty cents more and you can get refills for ninety-nine cents." I went back to the Boston Market. Now open it had a bunch of people in there to pick up Thanksgiving stuff so they don't have to cook. But the take-out case had a bunch of that creamed spinach and I got enough for my gang. I mean enough considering not everyone is going to take spinach.

I took all my meager offerings to my cousin's place. A sample of the homemade rolls my aunt is making was offered up. She worried that they weren't going to be good and cooked up a few. We pronounced them good. I went next door to her apartment and asked her if she'd like to go back to Mesquite with me. She was more than eager and rushed around and got her sweater, glasses and wallet.

I drove my aunt back to my other aunt's apartment. The latter aunt had has fed roast beef sandwiches to 'the boys' as she called her 89-year-old brother and 80-year-old husband. The former aunt and I hadn't had lunch so we made ourselves a sandwich, too, and had a few chips. My pie-making aunt wasn't happy with her pies (recalcitrant dough and spillage) but she got finished, had her lunch, cleaned up and we settled in to play games of Spinner. I kept score but couldn't win.

I made the suggestion that we take my one aunt home (saving her son from coming to get her so he could go along to get his son at the airport) and that we all go to an oyster place. My uncle had been passing this place on Mockingbird for a long time and he wanted to try it, but he was a little worried that they wouldn't have food to suit the others. Only he and I go for oysters on the half shell. I loaded them all up in the van and we took off. Even though rush hour was coming on, we didn't hit much traffic and we got to Big Shucks. You stand up at a counter and order stuff. We ordered two dozen oysters, hush puppies, a couple of beers, a Sprite, a catfish and shrimp basket, a crab cake, some clam chowder and a shrimp basket. It was important to remember all this because they have an honor system and, on the way out, I had to recite all of it to the cashier who put the resulting charge on my one aunt's credit card. This part of the experience (remembering everything we had) seemed to disturb my elders, but they liked the food. Me, too. Best hush puppies I ever had. Good fresh raw oysters. That's all (all as in LOTS of hush puppies) I had except for a couple of Dad's French Fries from his basket. And one of those beers. Or part of it. I was driving so I didn't try to finish it.

We had coffee at my aunt's apartment and I took the other aunt and uncle back to theirs and Dad and I returned to the hotel early. I did battle with my laptop and the wireless connection, watched crime shows, read, worked puzzles.

I love my dad's sisters. And I dote on the one remaining in-law he has. (He has two sisters and a brother who are widowed and had two more sisters who never married who are deceased.) I love my Dad. I actually enjoy telling them funny stories, making them laugh, playing games and pretending to care about winning. I enjoy teasing my aunt that it is "all about Uncle E." And catering to him by going to an oyster joint. (OK, I love oysters, too.) I can talk to them about a lot of things. But I won't be getting into a discussion with them about indie film or gay rights or WEB publishing. They won't appreciate the difficulty I am having getting connectivity so you can read this. My one aunt said today that she "didn't know how we all got along before e-mail." Not that she uses it. No computer for her. She has a 1930's era typewriter that she recently got repaired. She just hears me say that this cousin e-mailed me this and that one that and my niece e-mailed this. But, hey, they all carry cell phones. Being around them makes me think about getting old. My uncle has a pacemaker, my aunt's leg so much metal that an xray looks like an erector set, my other aunt broke her kneecap twice this last summer. And I learned that there was a fall and another trip to the emergency room for some stomach ailment for my uncle while they were still in Maine (they summer there, winter here) that went unreported to Texas. (My cousin said, "I told them that there is a culture in this family of not giving out this kind of news and they are perpetuating it." He and I feel responsible for them because they have no children.)

When I'm alone in a hotel room, I have trouble doing anything constructive and going to sleep. I end up reading stupid stuff and watching a bunch of stupid TV (all the while thinking that we have so many more channel choices at home).