First: When it gets to the point where they are sandbagging the highways and considering shutting down school because of RAIN, that is too much rain. Too much, too much.
Second: I am on the phone with my Mom as I type. She just watched “Save the Last Dance,” for the first time. For those of you who haven’t seen it, it’s about a white high school girl who gets her dance on. Unfortunately for her, “getting her dance on,” means ballet. This does not go over well for her as the new girl in school in the ghetto. Then, to the chagrin of many, she has the gall to date a black dude. Her new black friends teach her how to bring it, “In Living Color” style, and she incorporates some of her newfound jiggy into her ballet.
Momsy’s thoughts? “Gosh, I never went through any of that when I was with your brother’s dad. Or with your dad. [Mom's white, our fathers are black.] It’s not that the white race created their problems. It went way, way back to slavery. But now, a lot of white people have just as many problems as black people. Oh, by the way, I moved again. There were thieves. They stole my lawnmower.”
Welcome to my life. Now she’s talking about the joys of living in Jamestown, NY. I’ve mentioned this before – Jamestown is about as uplifting as looking out my windowpane at the road, which is quickly flooding.
Momsy: “Erie [county] is just f*cked up. It’s not us. It’s depressed. It’s how this area is.” Ah, the delight. “Don’t set limitations on me, ’cause there aren’t limitations as far as I’m concerned. I said some things I shouldn’t have said, but that’s how I am when I get heated. I don’t need to apologize. I will write to my congressmen and senators and they will put heat on them, ” Momsy says. “Jackasses.”
I do love her.
[Edit: For people who live in NY, you know Jamestown is not in Erie County. But my family is originally from Buffalo, which is the heart of Erie. My Mom has no love for that whole side of NY. Everyone but her and my grandfather's first wife (Mom's mom) moved to Florida. We talk about it every time she calls.]
[Edit 2: Okay, I just got off the phone. Talking to my Mom is a 50/50 enterprise. Half the time, she drops gems that have me laughing so hard I practically wet myself. She is ridiculously funny and bitchy. She knows this about herself and does not give a flying f*ck. I'm pretty sure I picked part of that up in the womb. On the other hand, talking to me usually brings out the worst in her because she hasn't seen me since I was 14 and she misses me. That's half of my life she hasn't witnessed. She cries. It makes me sad. I'm not gonna take it any deeper than that here because some of my things aren't for public view. I hope those of you who are close with your moms had a great mommy's day.]
