Oh Hey Guys, I'm Coming to Visit!, America!, We Did It! Phillies!, Chase Utley!

Dear Nephews,

It is I, your Uncle. I'm writing you this morning to inform you that I shall be traveling a great distance, across flowing rivers, over rocky mountains, and past the relatively travel-friendly valleys of this glorious nation of ours to where it all began, the great city of Philadelphia, to celebrate America's 237th birthday. (Philadelphia, which as we all know is Quaker for "Phil's Place") And on this special day of days I request your presence for various food eatings and meat grillings and drink drinkings and what have yous.

You may be saying to yourselves, "Hey, awesome Uncle Kevin is coming to visit, I love that guy, he's the best and I hope to be just like him when I grow up, but what's the big deal about the 4th of July anyway?" Well, if you'll recall I told you all about it last year! Brayden, you get a free pass for not being born and all, but I expected more from the Murray Brothers. A lot more. (-_-)

So no history lessons today, though you should be aware that today marks the 150th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg, which was a turning point in the American Civil War. It was the largest battle of the war and many say if the South had won the 3 day battle, we'd be eating chitlins in Philadelphia instead of cheesesteaks. You'll go there on a field trip one day and you'll see some old muddy cabins with old wooden pipes inside and long eery fields that make you feel like you traveled back in time to a sad place where scared men did brave things to change the world forever. Or you'll get the high score on some game on your phone and accidentally fart in front of girl you like. Field trips are a mystery, boys, you never know what will happen.

So a little history lesson today. It's America's Birthday! Cahm ahn! And it's important that we talk about our history. If not to be inspired by our triumphs or learn from our mistakes, then to have a distinct advantage over those who choose to ignore either. Remember I said that, might be the only smart thing I ever teach you. Also, calculus is dumb, you don't need to learn it.

I just wanted to say hey guys, I'm coming to visit!, America!, We Did It!, Phillies!, Chase Utley!, and I'm looking forward to meeting you, Brayden. I'll be asking some questions to make sure the Murray Brothers have been treating you well, showing you the ropes. We're gonna have a good time this weekend and we'll celebrate America's birthday with bar-b-que and fireworks and watching the Phillies trounce the Braves (A whole 'nother war entirely). It's gonna be great.

Your Favorite Uncle,

Kevin

Hi I'm Brayden...Brayden with a Y

Dear Connor, Jack, and the New Kid,

Actually first, let me talk to Connor and Jack. New Kid, earmuffs.

Hey guys. What kinda read you got on this New Kid? What's he like? Really? Hmmm, Jack you agree? Hmmm. Well, I guess I'll take your word for it. So you think I should let him in? You think he could cut it in the Awesome Dudes Club? Alright. I trust you guys. But if he's a flake, it's on you guys.

Alright, New Kid, un-earmuff. What's your name? Brandon? Bardon? Bartholomew? Brayden? With a 'y'? Get used to saying that, kid. "Brayden with a y" will just be a reflex eventually. No one at a coffee shop anywhere will get it right ever and I know this because people on the Internet take pictures of how this is an issue for them. I wouldn't know, I go to Dunkin Donuts and they don't write anything on my cup, they just give me coffee. Works out great. Some of my closest friends work at Dunkin Donuts and we don't know each other's names. Name knowing is overrated. People get so upset if someone they've met before doesn't remember their name. I don't understand why. A person's name is almost always the least interesting thing about them. Except Pondfinger Flurglechest, who is honestly the most boring dude I've ever met. But usually it's more like this...

'Hey, I'm Kevin.'

"Yeah I know, we've met before."

'Oh right. Stephen Urkel?'

"Uh, no actually. Stefon Ur'kel."

That happens all the time. And according to most people, that makes me the jerk. I understand if Stefon and I shared some kind of unique experience. Like if we both watched The Dragons wreck "Rachel's Place". But every time someone gets upset because I don't remember their name, it's a person I've only been introduced to, but have never actually had a conversation with. So what is it they want me to remember? A face and a name without some kind of story to go along with it? I just don't see why my brain would choose to remember a face and a name.

What were we talking about?

Oh, right, names and people not getting them right. What a bunch of jerks those people are, right? As well as "Brayden with a y" get used to "O'Connor with an O." Seriously. All the time. It's a thing. I guess some people are named O'Conner, which just looks insanely stupid to me. Right? Thank you! It's absurd. O'Conner! What's that even mean? "Er" is what you say when you don't know what to say. It's bassically O'Conn-stutter. Cool name...er, not. (See what I did there?)

All kidding around outside, welcome to the family, kid. I'm your Uncle Kevin. You can call me Awesome Uncle Kevin or Uncle Kevin the Great or Basically the Coolest Guy I Know (you can save that one for show and tell). I live in Las Vegas, Nevada and I'm a Rodeo Clown or a Showgirl's Assistant or a Writer for an Advertising Company, I can never remember which one. When I'm not doing one of those things I'll do my best to write these letters to you and your cousins Connor and Jack. They'll fill you in on everything you've missed; it's a lot like what we just talked about except even less coherent. I try to cover some important stuff that your parents might not be able to get to. So basically, the unimportant stuff that you won't need to know about for any reason. For example...

Some kid had a fake girlfriend who he thought died, but it turned out she was some sad confused kid pretending to be a girl who died and it all sounded like a bad movie and it turns out it was a bad movie and then the more we heard about it the more it sounded like a bad reality show and then it turned out that also existed and now everyone is wondering if this kid will still be able to tackle other guys to the ground after such a fiasco and I don't know I feel like if he's that easily fooled than he's going to have a lot of trouble with play-action and play-action leads to a lot of big down field plays and I just don't know if I want that guy as my defensive leader. 

Stuff like that, 2013 has started off pretty weird. A lot of what I tell you here will be factually inaccurate but still essentially true. True in the sense that I believe it to be true. And sometimes, Brayden with a y, that's enough. (That last statement is not true.)

If your parents ever tell you something I've written here is untrue, they are almost definitely right, but that doesn't mean you have to believe them. There is always a chance that I am right, though again, it's unlikely.

So welcome to the Awesome Dudes Club, Brayden with a y. Connor and Jack will teach you the secret handshake and the secret password for our secret meetings where we secretly make plans to take over the world. It's not a big deal, it's just the coolest thing ever to be a part of. So congrats. You're here! You're in! You made it! We did it! I'm looking forward to teaching you a whole bunch of stuff you should probably already forget. Like did you know...

Starfish don't have brains?

Or that termites live to be 50 years old?

Or that a shrimp's heart is in its head?

All true. All useless.

So get excited for more of that. And Connor and Jack, you guys show this kid the ropes. They should be in the closet downstairs in a box marked "Kevin's ropes".

Talk to you guys soon.

Your Favorite Uncle,

Kevin

Giving Thanks on T-Gives

Dear Connor and Jack,

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!! Sorry for yelling. I'm a big fan of this holiday. Food, fine wine*, football. The three F's. I love it. I'm thankful for it. So last year we talked about The First Thanksgiving and we learned A LOT. I know I did. This year,I thought we'd forget the past and talk about the present. Because that's what Thanksgiving is all about, the present. Thinking about what we're thankful for right now. That and turkey.

(*Anything not in a box is fine to me. And honestly the box wine is just fine too.)

So without Freddie Ado here are a few things I'm thankful for this Thanksgiving:

I'm thankful for...

Freddie Ado

If he wasn't such a huge superstar athlete beloved by millions around the world, then no one would get that joke. Thankfully American soccer has taken off just like they always said it would and Freddie Ado is the face of American soccer. So thanks, Freddie. You're the best. I think. Who knows.

I'm thankful...

The Election Is Over

Ugh. Fall is such a great time of year with the football and the leaves and the pumpkins and good TV and it no longer being 120 degrees in Las Vegas. It's all great stuff and once every four years it's infected by politicians begging us for jobs by telling us every couple seconds why someone else is terrible and they are not as terrible. If I could have one wish for you guys it's that you never become politicians. I love you guys too much to see that happen. Are all politicians terrible? No, there's good and bad people in every profession, but the ratio is not good in politics. More than you not being politicians, I don't want you to surround yourself with politicians. Pick better friends. I'm so thankful the election is over.


I'm thankful for...

The Washington Nationals

It has been a rough year for your Uncle Kevin's teams. Between the Phillies, Eagles, and Mountaineers I can't remember a more disappointing year. Hey, at least the Flyers are undefeated... ... ... sigh. All I have left is cheering against teams I hate. I talked all summer about The Nationals choking in October. Too young. Too hot headed. That was my reasoning. But I didn't know. I was prepared, with how the year was going to watch those punks win a World Series. But they gave me such a fantastic present. Their epic collapse against the Cardinals in game 5 of the NLDS after taking a 6-0 lead was a thing of beauty. I could feel it happening, it was like they knew I was watching. Just fantastic. Aaaand just like that I feel better about this sports year. Thank you, Washington Nationals. 

I'm thankful for...

Dinner

I love Thanksgiving dinner. I'm so excited to put it in my mouth. It's gonna be so good. Then I'm gonna nap. Then I'm gonna have a bonfire in my back yard, cause I like fires and burning stuff. And then I'm gonna eat some more. Then sleep again. And then I'm gonna wake up on Friday and make the greatest leftover sandwich ever. Prolly nap after that. Then I'll turn on the news and watch people get trampled at a K-Mart*. It's a beautiful tradition.

(Hey, K-Mart, given the history of morons at your store on Black Friday, maybe don't call your special "Door Buster Sale". Just a thought.)

I'm thankful for...

My Homemade Sangria

It's delicious.

I'm thankful for... 

Friends and Dogs

When I can't be with you guys on T-Gives, I do my best to surround myself with good people. It helps that half of those people are actually dogs. There will be six people at dinner this year, and five, maybe six dogs. Not everyone every dog has rsvp'd. I'm gonna try and take a group picture and put it here, but it might be difficult to orchestrate. Anyway, I'm thankful for all the animals I'm with today, whether they have tails or thumbs. Or both?

Here are two of our guests Nia and Frankie:

I'm thankful for...

My First Love: Wednesday Adams





I'm thankful for...

For You Guys

Cause without you guys I'd just be a crazy person writing to no one. AND I'M CERTAINLY NOT CRAZY!!! 

Well maybe I am, but we're family so you're stuck with your crazy Uncle Kevin. Everyone needs a crazy uncle. Miss you guys, love you guys, tell everyone I said Happy T-Gives! I'll talk to you soon and see you at Christmas!

Your Favorite Uncle,

Kevin

The Miseducation of Uncle Kevin

Dear Connor,

It’s your first day of school tomorrow. Well, your first day of preschool. I never went to preschool. I decided to spend that year finding myself and attend kindergarten the following year. It’s a decision I still think about to this day. Did I make the right choice? Would I be more socially adept if I hadn’t skipped out on a year finger painting and naps with my peers? But without that year of watching Fred Penner’s Place and The Elephant Show  I would have missed all that hippie nonsense they taught me like sing-a-longs and empathy.  I may never know the true affects of that decision, but according to TV, "education is paramount" so let's assume you're making the right decision by attending preschool.

Over the next two decades or so school will be a big part of your life and I don't want you to be as unprepared for everything as I was/am, so I'll be here to to give you unwarranted advice through out this unimaginable hellscape we call .

Let's begin with the most important class:

Lunch

After breakfast, I think lunch is definitely the 2^nd meal of the day. Unless you’re going to brunch, but let’s be honest, that’s just a late breakfast. Lunch for you right now is pretty simple; you place an order with your waitress* and a few minutes later you have your cut up chunks of hotdogs. But in school, things get complicated. Not only will you have your lunch, but other kids will have lunches as well, and sometimes...you covet thy neighbor's lunch.

(*Mom, Dad, Pop-pop, Mom-mom, Aunt Lauren, etc.)

I mean sure, you have Teddy Grahams, which are great, but that kid has Dunkaroos. Dunkaroos are like Teddy Grahams, but with delicious frosting to dip it in. You may have a banana, which you like, but that kid has a Snack Pack, which is objectively better than a banana. Welcome to the free market, Connor. Everything is negotiable. It’s not what you start with, but what you finish with. Maybe you, like Billy Madison, cannot trade a banana for a Snack Pack, but you can trade that banana for something. Then you take that something and trade it for something else, with each trade coming closer and closer to your milk-chocolatey brass ring.

Here’s a clip from David Mamet's Glengarry Glen Ross to help you with your salesmanship: Learn Your ABC’s. (NSFPS)

Naptime

Enjoy it while it lasts. One day--out of nowhere--you’ll be reprimanded for sleeping in class. Like it's your fault Latin is boring. It's also not your fault that school starts at like 4AM. Some of us are night owls who like to stay up to watch Letterman's Top 10 and reruns of Cheers and Night Court, but does that matter to your 1st period teacher? No. Wait, what were we talking about? Oh right, naps.

Naps can be dangerous at your age. Sometimes you dream about swimming around in a swimming pool and you wake up with less than dry pants. Don't panic. That's what they want. Act like you meant to do it. It’s the only move you can make. What’s done is done. Own it. Some girl will probably yell, “Eww! Connor peed!” Don’t sweat her. Look her right in the eye and say, “What of it?” She’ll respect you for it.

Recess

First thing’s first, find the toughest kid in class, punch him right in the face. No one will mess with you after that. Notice the kid who laughed like a weasel when you punched that dude (important: make sure it's a dude), he’ll be your lackey or toady, whichever you prefer. Take him under your wing, make him do stuff for you, let him laugh at your jokes but if he laughs too hard shoot him a threatening look. You have to keep him in check, make sure he knows his role. The bully/toadie dynamic has succeeded for centuries: Zach and Screech, , Scott Farkus and Grover Dill, Jaba the Hut and that little laughing dude, Dick Chaney and George Bush, the list is endless.

Bullies are getting a bad rap right now, but don't be swayed by the lame stream media*. Without bullies there would be no nerds and without nerds there would be no Internets and without Internets I would have to send this letter to you on horseback and that may take months. Simply put, without bullies there would be no Internet. Bullies make the world go round. Don't let anyone make you feel bad for being who you are...that's your job.

(*You see it's actually the "main stream media" but I replaced "main" with "lame" because I find that complicated level of wordplay clever. I didn't do well in school, Connor.)

Actual Classes

 Though classes aren't as important as lunch or recess, they still have value. As I mentioned earlier, I didn't go to preschool and I don't really remember my first day of kindergarten, but  I do remember my first day of 1st grade. If my memory serves me correctly, it lasted for 467 hours, which I thought was a tad lengthy.

I was excited for 1st grade, I thought I'd finally get some respect now that I was 1st. Kindergarten wasn't even even a grade and now I was 1st. All that pride and excitement came to a crashing end quickly when I found out my teacher's purpose in life was to embarrass me at all costs.

On the first day of 1^st grade my teacher wrote something on the board and asked, “Who here can read?” And I just graduated with hovering colors from kindergarten and I knew the alphabet front to back. I even stopped saying “elimenopee”. So, I thought, knowing the alphabet was reading. You see, Connor, I thought I could read, but I couldn’t. Turns out, reading is a whole different thing. So I shot my hand up and of course she called my unknowing bluff. “What does this say?” she asked. So I start saying the letters and she stops me. What are you talking about, lady? I am reading. And if you’d stop interrupting me I’d finish, geeze. Before I knew it people were laughing, the teacher was shaking her head, and I eventually realized I didn't know how to read. Not a great start. Pretty much the rest of my life has gone like that first day of 1st grade. I speak, embarrass myself, and people laugh at me.

I learned a valuable lesson that day, Connor: Reading is dumb. And teachers are jerks who shouldn't set you up like that. And I hate everyone and I'M NEVER GOING BACK!

No, that's not right. Reading isn't dumb and that was only 60% my teacher's fault. I know that now. Sometimes the lessons won't hit you until you're a super mature grown up like I am. And though we both know the most important lessons are learned outside the classroom, without the lessons in the classroom, you will find yourself shouting letters like an idiot in the classroom of life. What? I dunno.

Good luck on your first day, buddy. I think if you do the opposite of everything I told you to do here today, you'll be just fine.

Your Favorite Uncle,

Kevin

P.S.- Hi, Jack. This letter was for Connor, but while it is Connor's time at school, it's your time at home. Your time at home. Enjoy it. I know you will. Goonies never say die.

Uncle Kevin Presents: Independence Day: The Real Story: Colon: Yup

Dear Connor & Jack,

Happy Independence Day! 

I love the 4th, boys. It's a great day for many reasons. Not only are we celebrating the birth of this great nation of ours, but we also get to eat hamburgers and blow stuff up. What’s better than hamburgers and explosions? Nothing, probably. Throw in some macaroni salad and maybe an ice-cold lemonade (read: beer) and your Uncle Kevin is about as happy as a pig in the city who can talk and is named Babe. I didn’t actually see that movie, but I assume everything works out in the end and Babe really enjoys the city.

It's important to spend the 4th enjoying all the awesome freedom we have, but it’s also important to take a moment every 4^th of July between all the ‘burgs and explosions to remember what happened on that great day in 1776 to form this great nation. Oh, you guys haven’t heard this story? Whaaaaat? That’s crazy talk. What are they teaching you in school? What do you mean you don’t go to school? What do you mean you’re only 3 and 1 years old? What’s happened to this country’s education system? More like Obamadoesnotcare, amiright? What were we talking about? Oh right, July 4^th 1776.

Awesome Dudes with Ponytails: Founding Fathers & Uncle Kevin

Let me drop some forefather knowledge on your dome pieces...

The story of the US of A begins with a handful of rebels named Thomas “Jeff” Jefferson, Benjamin “All About the Me's” Franklin, John “Don’t Call Me Quincy” Adams, Sam "I'm Not Drunk" Adams, John “I Don’t Do Autographs” Hancock, and a handful of dudes (51 dudes actually. How big is your hand?) meeting up in the greatest city in the world, Philadelphia, to discuss King George who was being a total knob.

(side note: If this were Star Wars, King George would be the Emperor, Jefferson would be Luke, and B. Frank would be Han. I guess Jefferson’s dad would be Vader, I dunno. Forget it. Jon Adams would be Chewy.)

  You see, the British Empire, headed up by King George thought it was cool to ask us for money even though we didn't have a say in how or why that money was spent. They were basically the mafia asking us to pay them for "protection" and we were all,“Nah Homie, we don't need your protection. We got this. ” And King George was all, "Whatevs. I'm the king, and I rule. You do what I say." So our smartest dudes (Sans the black guys and women. Whole other terrible letter I'll write to you when you're older.) met at Independence Hall, which was called Anthony Michael Hall before this meeting, to figure out how to deal with this jabroni and squash this beef once and for all.

America!

They knew that King George would be a real jerk about them forming their own country, so they decided to be adults about it and write him a letter. And since Thomas Jefferson had the best handwriting he was made head writer. Tom Jeff brought in B. Frank and John "Don't Call Me Paul Giamatti" Adams as his top aids because they had brains on top of brains. The one thing they knew for sure: They weren't asking King George for Independence; they were gonna straight up Declare it.

To make sure the King knew this was for real everyone signed the letter—kind of like a birthday card that gets sent around the office. You may not have bought the card or written it or know who it's for or what's wrong with them, but you sign it because everyone else is and it's the right thing to do. Of course, John Hancock had to show off and write his name all huge, even though he was just the president of congress and Tom Jeff totes wrote the thing. Typical Hancock.(Years later Will Smith would play John Hancock in a movie, I didn't see it, but I'm told it's historically accurate.) 

Legend has it when Hancock was signing this Declaration of Independence he told everyone that congress must hang together. Then B. Frank was all,  “Yeah, we better hang together, or we shall all hang separately, fo sho.” B. Frank was dropping knowledge like that all the time—it’s no wonder he was such a ladies’ man (see: cause of death).

Then they sent the letter. King George was pretty miffed. There was a war. The rebels won. Boom, America!

Happy Birthday, America!

And that, gentlemen, is the story of our Independence Day. There’s a sequel and Will Smith is in that too. President Bill Pullman (Not Paxton) kills aliens with a speech and Will welcomes the aliens to "Erf" in that movie. It’s pretty good. Not as good as the original.

Anyway, enjoy the 4^th, see some stuff explode, eat some hamburgers, remember how cool B. Frank and the other rebels were, and lastly, at the top of your lungs (Connor, you’ll love this) yell out, “Happy Birthday, America!!!”

She turns 236 years old today. Doesn’t look a day over 200.

Your Favorite Uncle,

Kevin

My Apologies...

Dear Connor & Jack,

Remember this?

Let me just put it out there now because the tension between the three of us is palpable and I would like to just put it behind us. Yes, I do realize I haven’t written to you in six months. I am sorry. I have no excuses and you’re right to be mad. I’ve been a terrible uncle. And I know a giant box of candy (Connor) and a couple of books with naughty words in them (Jack) don’t make up for my lack of correspondence. And I’m also sorry for bringing those presents up while I apologized. It was self-serving just like the remainder of this letter probably will be, this whole blog probably has been, and my existence as a whole almost certainly is.

You have a selfish Uncle, but in time I hope you will forgive me for this and we can continue to be friends. In the meantime I thought I’d catch you up on the last six months of popular culture with, as always, my very skewed and egocentric point of view.

Judge these books by their covers.

Then I thought, ‘I can barely remember anything from the past six weeks’. So I’ll do my best to remember stuff, but it’s more likely that you’re going to just get a heavy does from the past eight days or so. Most of these stories are ones that upset me because that’s all I remember.

Anyway, let’s try to recap:

Hamels Pays For Being Honest

As you get older you will find honesty to be a more and more complicated concept. You can’t always be honest and some times it’s just better to keep your mouth shut. Honesty is often most difficult when it’s needed the most, which is totally lame of honesty to be like that. In this case, Hamels admitting he threw at Nationals 19-year-old rookie Bryce Harper on purpose to “welcome him to the big leagues”, he probably should have kept that to himself. It’s kind of one of those unspoken parts of the game and Hamels was punished for speaking about it. He only missed one start and now the Phillies-Nationals rivalry is a little more interesting, Hamels is a little more of a villain in the eyes of baseball fans—which I think he wanted, and the rookie learns a lesson. What is that lesson? I don’t know, duck, I guess. As for Major League Baseball, well, let’s just say they aren’t huge fans of honesty. Especially when one of their giant headed players is smashing 500 ft. home runs. But I’m not here to talk about the past. (Though that’s literally all I’m doing)

We Lose a Beastie

I don’t know what kind of music you boys will be into. For the next 12-15 years it’s most likely going to be horrible, whatever it is. Then one magical day you will find an artist, a band, a group, and it will be like you’re hearing music for the first time. And in many ways you are. And that music will open you up to more music and that’s how your music taste will grow. And since you’ve decided to be a couple of white boys from the suburbs of Philly there’s a good chance you will be into hip-hop. I mean you have to rebel against your Dad’s love of Pantera, right? Well, if you do get into hip-hop, The Beastie Boys’ “License to Ill” is a great place to start. The Beastie Boys won’t steer you wrong. And MCA has more rhymes than Abe Vigoda. I know, I know, you didn’t think anyone had more rhymes than Abe Vigoda, well someone did, and he was awesome. RIP MCA.

Community Loses Its Leader

Last Friday Dan Harmon, the creator and driving creative force behind the TV show Community, was unceremoniously fired.

As you guys know, I love TV.  More than just love, I respect TV. And there are more reasons to love TV now, in 2012, than any point in history. There are also more reasons to hate TV than in anytime in history—so many reasons to hate TV. There are some of the most detestable people in society on TV; in fact, being detestable is what makes them so appealing. I guess, I don’t know, I can’t watch that stuff. I meet enough horrible people in real life; I don’t need to watch them on television. I watch TV because I enjoy watching talented people do what they do best. It brings me joy.

 At first Community was just a funny show about seven students at a community college, one of which had an almost encyclopedic knowledge of TV and movies and quite possibly suffered from some form of Asperger’s. I related to this character for obvious reasons. Also, the show made me laugh, so I continued to watch.

Then their Goodfellas show where Abed became the Godfather of cafeteria chicken fingers happened and I thought maybe the is more to this show than just another sitcom.

Then the paintball episode “Modern Warfare” and the and the clip show that wasn’t a clip show and the bottle episode that was a bottle episode and the insanely weird “My Dinner with Andre” episode and the masterpiece that was “Remedial Chaos Theory” where they explored seven different timelines in just 22 minutes and well…you get the idea. Community challenged with the idea of what a situational comedy could be. I admired it for this.

And even though they were renewed for 13 more episodes, without Harmon the show probably won’t be the ambitious, mind-bendingly weird show I’ve grown to love.

And my problem isn’t that Harmon was fired from his own creation*, that’s the business of TV. If you want to create a TV show, you have to sell it to someone who has no interest in the show’s artistic merit. It’s show business, boys, not show me something I’ve never seen before that’s creatively challenging to me.

(*Though I can’t imagine how hard it must be for him to walk away from what will probably be his career defining work. Something he put so much of himself in and obviously cared enough about not to let anyone convince him to change it. Now he has to watch a bastardized version of it exist for 13 more episodes. I can’t imagine he’ll be able to watch it. That’s got to be tough.)

My real problem is that Harmon never would have been fired if people watched the show. But no one did. It got terrible ratings. And the weirder and more ambitious it got the less people watched.

This was a show for people who don’t just love TV, but respect it. And Community’s ratings and Harmon’s firing only proved what I already knew…people are the worst.

-----------------------------------------------------------

All three of those stories happened in the last three weeks. If I try to go back any further we’d be here all day, and I know you boys have a long drive ahead of you.  I don’t know what the overall lesson is with these three stories. I guess the lesson is don’t let “The Man” keep you down, people are the worst, and The Beastie Boys are dope.

(I’m rusty. Gimme a break.)

I have to finish packing and hop on this plane.

See you tomorrow.

Your Favorite Uncle,

Kevin

The Story of The First Thanksgiving (I Think)

Dear Connor and Jack,

How you livin'? What's going down? What's the haps? Uh, I never know how to begin. I'm not very good at starting things. Not terrific at finishing things either. I'm more of a middle man. I'm the guy who knows the guy who can write a decent letter to his nephews. To get to the letter you gotta go through me.

ANYWAY, I'll probably go back and delete that last paragraph. Well, I should, but I won't because then this sentence won't make sense. It's a vicious circle of mediocrity, boys. A vicious cycle.

But enough about my own insecurities. It's Thanksgiving! We should be talking about all we are thankful for. But I feel like we did that last year (though I refuse to go back and check). And besides, Jack, it's your first Thanksgiving. You probably don't understand what this day is all about. For all you know it's just another Sunday dinner at Mom-Mom's. All the guys watch football and the ladies cook. But it's more than that, Jack. It's so much more than that.

It's been a while since I've read the story of the first Thanksgiving, but I think I remember enough of it to be able to tell it to you guys now and fill in the blanks with some uneducated guesses.

So without Freddie Ado, The Story of the First Thanksgiving...

Once upon a time about 400 years ago, there were these British people who called themselves Pilgrims. The Pilgrims were such dorks even other British people made fun of them. One day the Pilgrims decided they'd had enough swirlies and wedgies for one lifetime, so they got all their stuff and set sail for India to start their own community based on shoe buckles and capri pants. Why India? No one knows for sure, but many suspect that because there are so many IT guys there, the Pilgrims thought dorks would be especially welcomed.

In an ironic twist, their GPS malfunctioned on the way to India--something those dorks in India could have helped them with--and they ended up going the complete opposite direction. Where did they end up? You guessed it, the United States of the USA.

And this is why we call Native Americans "Indians"--because the Pilgrims were terrible with directions. And eventually everyone realized this wasn't India, but we continued to call Native Americans "Indians"* for another 400 years because you can't choose your nickname--nicknames are thrust upon you by hordes of dumb people.

(*I'm calling the Native Americans 'Indians' from this point forward because Native Americans is just too long and awkward sounding. Sorry Native American Indians.)

ANYWAY, the Pilgrims landed in Plymouth Rock, Massachusetts. I guess they didn't really land, since they were on a boat. What do boats do? Dock? They docked at Plymouth Rock and thought to themselves, "We did it! We made it to India! Look, I see some Indians! Wow, you know what, it doesn't smell all that bad here. This place gets a bad rep." There was no video evidence of the first encounter between the Pilgrims and Indians so we don't know exactly what was said, but here's an uneducated guess:

Billy Pilgrim: Hey, what's up Indians? We are the Pilgrims.

Stephen the Indian: Who you callin' Indians?

Billy Pilgrim: We have come from very far away to start a shoe buckle and capri pants based society. I notice your shoes don't have buckles. Also, I notice you don't have shoes.

Stephen the Indian: Welcome to America! Please, share with us this bountiful Earth!

Billy Pilgrim: Um, yeeeeah, sharing. Okay. We'll "share" the Earth with you. But later I have some paper I'm gonna need you to sign. It's no big deal, it just says who shares what and when and for how long sharing will last, blah, blah, blah...Like I said, it's no big deal, you won't even have to read it.

Stephen the Indian: Um, alright. You seem like trustworthy dudes. But first I want us to break bread. We must have a grand feast to celebrate a new friendship that will no doubt last many, many, moons. Have you ever tried maze?

Billy Pilgrim: Maze?

Stephen the Indian: You may know it as "corn".

Billy Pilgrim: Ah, yes, corn, no we have never had corn. I don't know why I acted like I recognized the word "corn", I've never even seen it.

Stephen the Indian: And I don't know why I assumed you would know corn, but not maze. I'm starting to think our narrator is getting confused.

Billy Pilgrim: He's not the sharpest tool in the shed, that's for sure. He spends a lot of his time making fart jokes.

Stephen the Indian: Please come sit and eat with us. We do not see how anything could go wrong once we have shared food.

Billy Pilgrim: Sounds great. We will bring disease--I mean bread. We will bring bread.

Stephen the Indian: And we will bring everything: a turkey, cranberry sauce, corn/maze, a corn maze, stuffing (stove top of course), a giant horn and we will fill it with inedible gourds for some reason, all the good stuff.

Billy Pilgrim: Ooh, I know what we can bring, alcohol. We have all this alcohol. You are gonna love it. It's not dangerous at all.

Stephen the Indian: That sounds great. I know this alcohol you speak of will go perfect with dinner. And then maybe it will be great to have right when we wake up and in no way will it lead to terrible things for me and my people.

Billy Pilgrim: This is gonna be awesome. We are gonna be BFF!

Stephen the Indian: Totes.

And so they ate together. They ate and sang and filled a giant horn with a bunch of inedible gordes for some reason and they gave thanks. They gave thanks for new friends. And they were best friends forever, just like they said they would be. Isn't that awesome?

Love you guys.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Your Favorite Uncle,

Kevin