More Carmen

I once ate ostrich sausage at one of Carmen's barbecues.

I swear he had a black market connection who sold him bizarre foods the guy smuggled into the country. I would not put this past Carmen; he could get along with and deal with anybody.

Carmen had a fine appreciation of liquor. His liquor cabinet was impressive. He turned me on to Armagnac. If you like cognac, give it a try.

He had zero respect for beer. So he always bought the cheapest beer he could find.

He once served us Olde Frothingslosh. The can had a picture of a very fat woman in a bathing suit on it. The slogan on the can said: "The pale stale ale with the foam on the bottom".

The stuff was nasty.

Finally, in my remembrance of my Uncle Carmen, when I spoke of the fact that I am now the Testa family elder, I said: "I am not comfortable being in this position. It feels like it carries with it enormous responsibility".

What a load of shit. The uncomfortable part is true. Very true. But the enormous responsibility part is hyperbole.

I get carried away with the emotions, I get carried away with my words.

There is no enormous responsibility involved. It is more true to say it feels like a suit I inherited that just may not fit me right.

We won't know until the final words are carved into my tombstone.