Imagine that you are sitting at a restaurant in an old boat on the Mediterranean Sea, enjoying a relaxing meal of Paella, a traditional Spanish dish. You are taking in the seventy-degree weather while catching up on old times. The moment is suddenly broken by the sound of a piece of octopus being spit across the table. You look at your wife, who looks to your mom, who then scolds the laughing culprit. No, a toddler wasnt trying a new food, it just means that one of your brothers is in town.
Big Dog goes global is the comment my brother Ryan made when he arrived with my mom ten days ago. That is a pretty cool nickname for a twenty-seven year old huh? He came up with it all by himself, way back in junior high.
The true point of this rendering should be devoted to my mother. She raised three overly large and sugar-filled boys all by herself after my father passed when away when I was six. My mother embraced all the differences of Spanish culture with open arms. Ryan
not so much. If my oldest brother Matts Kenworth semi could fly, then this nonsense would have been devoted to him too. However, he claims that if he cant drive there, then it isnt worth going.
So back to the Big Dog. Despite his holding of a successful title at a Fortune 500 company, he cant stop his alter ego from coming through when the need arises for tasteless humor. He can go from the boardroom to the backroom in record time. A couple of my friends in college once seriously asked me if he really had a respectable career or just performed in bars for tips.
Growing up on a farm that raised pigs, I love the fact that Spaniards love ham. They even have ham-flavored potato chips. It did take me a while to get used to seeing actual pig legs hanging on the walls in bars and restaurants. Called Jamon Serrano, this ham is sliced very thinly and put on everything. Big Dog loved this pork obsession, and claimed that he was pissing ham by the end of the trip.
Watching him interact with Spaniards was outright hilarious. Talking louder in American, as he calls English, was his way of getting people to understand him. The Spanish word for the number four, cuatro, is as far as his multilingual talents go. He would loudly say CUATRO! when we would approach the hostess at restaurants, and then look around proudly like a toddler who just went potty like big boys do.
He claims all of the interesting nuances and differences in Spanish culture are just stupid. He would constantly ask, why would they do that? like I knew the answer. Neither of us have ever been wrong in an argument, so my wife really enjoys when Big Dog and I get together. Arguments usually end with a rude tasteless remark directed at the winner of the argument
me. Keep my mom and wife in your prayers for these last ten days.
I do owe Ryan a debt of gratitude. He has probably done more sight-seeing and energy-expending shopping trips with my mother and wife in the last two weeks than I have, ever. Hmm, would I rather endure two practices a day or follow two ladies around the avenues of Spain looking for authentic Spanish goods as my mom kept referring to them? Pick your poison.
We lost two heart breakers this week that we should have won, so is the reason this installment is pertained to the Big Dog. I figured that you wouldnt want to listen to a professional athletes problems anyway. Poking fun at one of my best friends who was one of the best men at my wedding seemed like a better idea. Yes, I did have to add both my brothers together to get one best man. Things could be worse, at least it didnt take three.