Methodius

My father has five siblings, and he is the fifth. They arrived girl-girl-girl, boy-boy-boy. The first boy is named Vladimir, after their father. The third boy is named Methodius, after their grandfather. My father is named John.

He dodged a naming bullet there.

I didn't know my Uncle Joe was actually Methodius until five-six years ago. I thought it was funny as hell. I still do, and I think if I were saddled with some ridiculous Czech first name, I'd have to laugh about it, too. I don't know if he found it funny, historical, or merely annoying.

Uncle Joe died yesterday.

I'm not close to any of my father's siblings - since my father died when I was young, we didn't go to those family gatherings. I don't remember any of my uncles ever playing with me. But Uncle Joe was an easy going guy, with a penchant for really lame jokes. He sent me emails on political points every now and then (we agreed on our politics).

Uncle Joe died mostly, I think, because he never had the surgery on his heart the doctors said he needed. They didn't have enough insurance. I haven't seen Sicko, but maybe I don't need to. Maybe I already got the point.