Nope. Not once.
No matter what you believe, let's be clear about that.
Even if we should have.
That's the thing about us. If you're ours, you're ours. (Unlike OJ. He's not ours anymore. But that was on him. Anyhoo...)
Listen...
Mike was like that fun yet crazy, self loathing uncle that always came to the family reunion, got drunk and wanted to take all the kids on a "hike" through the woods.
He was all skinny and malnourished. He was "touched", as the old folk liked to call him.
And all the adults would say shit awful about him, while keeping a side eye fixed on him, like.. "Lawd, somebody go get them kids away from Mike. You know he still on parole."
Uncle Mike showed up to the family reunion, not really wanting to be there since he knows you talk about him, but made it a point to be there since he’d rather hear the chatter than be home alone. Again.
We all talked about him. That's what black people do to family when we love you. And thank God he showed up this year, because if it wasn't for uncle Mike, we might not have had something to talk about.
"Chile... you heard he done went through all his money right? He won't give that Beatle back his songs. Don't believe what they say, uncle Mike is grimy."
And uncle Mike WAS sorta grimy. He didn’t do anything to you personally, but you’ve heard stories.
Then one year, you bring your brand new boyfriend to the reunion and the minute uncle Mike starts walking towards you, you cringe. Shit. You forgot to explain uncle Mike, and now it’s too late. All the new boyfriend sees is this high water, surgical mask, lace front having skeleton dressed like a sea admiral who everyone seems to tip toe around.
"Who's that?"
"Oh, that's my uncle Mike," you say. Then whispher,"He's been through a lot. He got burned doing a Pepsi commercial once."
Then you get quiet, and put on your best smile because he’s watching. He comes over to say "Hi" in that soft, non-threatening way of his, and in spite of yourself, your smile becomes as genuine as a ten year old's on Christmas….because uncle Mike still has that effect on you.
“So what happened to him?” your boyfriend asks. Sigh. Where in the hell do you begin?
Depends on who you ask. Truth be told, Sweetie, everyone has a different reason why uncle Mike is so completely fucked up, but we don’t know for sure.
His father pushed him too hard. He got too famous too young. He was molested. His nose was too big and his brothers teased him because they were jealous. The assumptions go on and on.
But uncle Mike wasn’t always that way.
You were little, and can’t remember much, but you do remember how uncle Mike was neck and neck with Mickey Mouse as your favorite.
You remember back in the day, when your parents used to blast "Off The Wall", from beginning to end. And you danced and sang each and every word and begged them to play it over and over and over and over and…well, rock the night away.
Eff "the Thriller dance". Everybody knows that. Do they know the hieroglyphic steps to "Remember The Time"?
You remember how the whole family gathered around the TV because uncle Mike was gonna be on "The Grammys". "Motown 25" changed your life.
Shit. With one song, a song that wasn’t even in the original play, he single-handedly saved “The Wiz”.
He was the only singer whose videos were a worldwide event. They drove you insane, and scared the shit out of you. Uncle Mike took you there before anyone else, like nobody else.
Then you got older and listened again, with a grown-folk ear. “Lady In My Life” and a bottle of Cisco cost you your virginity….but you won’t tell HIM that.
You knew your uncle Mike was special, but how do you explain that? He was so damn special that he couldn't even handle it. You can't even imagine how big that burden is.
But you’ve got other people to introduce the new dude to, so you stop explaining.
The family is standing around, playing catch up. Some are over by the food table; putting a heap of mac and cheese on their plates, others are yelling at each other over a game of spades...it’s a perfect day. Till you glance around to find uncle Mike.
Damn that’s sad. He’s just off in the corner, feeding his…
“Is that a lama?!” your boyfriend asks.
“Yeah. It is.”
Nobody says anything. We’re used it. We’re FAMILY.
Everyone is just waiting on the day that uncle Mike just... gets...BETTER But they’re all glad he’s there. If he’s around, then we don’t have to wonder about him and what he’s gonna do next.
"We love you Mike," you overhear uncle Jermaine say. You glance over to catch them in a real hug. Wow.
Uncle Mike returns the love, but we all know, he doesn't believe it. It's not the first time he's heard it, and he didn't believe it then either.
If he did, he wouldn’t do that just "disappear" thing …and that’s usually when you'd hear about him doing some seriously questionable shit.
"Uncle Mike married Elvis daughter."
"Uncle Mike is carrying a monkey around with him...and Webster."
"Uncle Mike done rubbed all the black off him."
“Uncle Mike been letting little boys sleep with him.”
"Uncle Mike lost his house."
"Uncle Mike moved out of the country."
But then he'd show up and everyone would be so damn happy to see him, we'd forget about all that craziness. And for a hot minute, around all that love, we all hope that he'd just let it all go, and join the family again. Come on back uncle Mike. We forgive it all. Family dude. FAMILY.
But then he'd just walk off into another corner by himself …again.
The minute you weren't paying attention, too involved in the spades game or something, you look up, and realize uncle Mike has quietly slipped out without saying a word to anyone.
"Why he just leave like that?” asks boyfriend.
You shrug. That’s just uncle Mike. “Did I tell you about the time he…”
And then you stop short and suddenly get reeeeal quiet... because... aww shit.
Aunt Latoya just showed up.
...And that's a whole other story.
(...Goodbye Uncle Mike. We'll miss you.)
