My Uncle Denny

My Uncle Denny and Aunt Carol are planning a drive by through Denver on their way home from picking up my cousin Andrea. Andrea works for the forest service and does things like jumping out of helicopters to tag elk. We've been emailing to figure out if I am going to be around when they come through.

My Uncle Denny is my godfather of sorts. We have a similar sense of humor. For my 9th birthday he gave me a Ouija board. For my 10th birthday he gave me Dungeons and Dragons, the first set ever made.

He also has a lot of good stories about farts. Sometimes when he's telling fart stories he farts. I laugh my ass off every time we hang out.

He has scars on his face from the time, when he was 10, that he decided to build a volcano. He and my mom lived in this plantation house in Louisville that took up an entire city block. It was haunted and had secret passages. One of my cousins wrote a book about the house called "The House on 3rd Street". Anyway, my uncle dug up a major part of the back yard and made this huge pile of dirt that was about 5 feet high. Then he dug out the core and put dynamite in the hole so his "volcano" would explode. The dynamite, as physics dictated, blew the dirt outward rather than exploding upward, at which point my uncle belated realized that standing next to the volcano was not a good idea.

I sent him an email today to let him know that I am going to be in Vancouver when he was initially planning on coming by. He sent me a response that started out: "Franki, What the hell are you doing in Vancouver ?" He then went on to make fun of my cousins who are referred to as the evil slacker twins in Boulder, and then he closed the email with "Love, Uncle Denny _everyone does".

Indeed...