Will Hines Dot Net

The Hines Bros went to Gosport, Indiana this weekend (population 700) to witness the high school graduation of our cousin Paul Craig. Above is a picture of Kevin standing outside the Gosport Tavern, which was as small and divey as central casting would wish. I would say this trip was a rousing success. Family events ebb and flow with the Hineses. We’ve gone five years without seeing anyone outside of us and our father, and then — boom — suddenly we’re seeing the extendeds three times a year.

I like my family’s reunions. Constant, low-key sarcasm is essential currency. I think it’s a midwest/Canadian thing — the need to take nothing seriously, to make fun of yourself and everyone, warmly, at every turn. It’s not just a cooler full of soda and beer, it’s the Beverage Center. It’s not just a round of Taboo, it’s the Game Night Portion of the Evening — referred to thusly by everyone, with a smile and eyes rolling. This is the land where David Letterman was born.

As always, there were silly door prizes given out via a semi-elaborate series of rules. A lovingly done but somehow hilarious pencil etching of Uncle Harry, done by one of his archaeology students at IU, was the most sought-after prize. Brother Brian won it, but cousin-in-law Bridgette spent the rest of the night stealing it back in mock-fury.

Maybe these examples sound boring to the outside world. But to me, it’s a good, reassuring time.

Good brother bonding, as far as that goes. The Hines Bros. flew out from NYC Friday and back again Sunday afternoon. We plowed through my Aunt Sue’s photo albums to view our own dorkiness rise and subside (relatively speaking) over the years.

Highlight of the trip: Saturday night, after the graduation there was a party at Aunt Sue’s (mother of the graduating senior). Myself, my post-21 cousins and my Aunt Carol decided, in a city snobby sort of way, that it would be “fun” to go to the Gosport Tavern for a round, since it was only one block away and looked from the outside like — well, you can see it in that photo — the kind of place where twelve milquetoasty Ohioans would never decend (my family is originally from Ohio).

Anyway, we go to the tavern for a round. Then my Aunt Sue, who discovered that we had left, burst into the doors very much like a cowboy slamming open saloon doors. “Where in the hell is my family?” The five non-relatives in the place look up, surprised. “You get youselves back to the house! We’ve got DOOR PRIZES to give away!” She walked, intentionally bow legged a la Gary Cooper, over to her sister and warmly yelled “Get your no-cartiledge knees BACK TO THE HOUSE!” It was really funny. I wish I took a picture but I was too busy making fun of how much Van Halen was available in the jukebox.

I liked seeing Paul especially. For a long time, he was the member of my mom’s extended family that I knew the least. But now I’ve seen him four or five times over the past three years, and I’m glad he’s become a familiar face. He was born in March 1987, three weeks after my mother died. I vaguely remember talking with my mom about her being excited to see him — her baby sister’s child — and she didn’t make it. That was such a sad time. Paul’s birth was a needed happy event for the family. So here we are 18 years later. I’m glad to have seen him graduate, and to see a great portion of the rest of my family while I was at it.

Click on the picture above to see a few other photos.