Tuesday, February 17, 2004
Feels like Spring. Suddenly it's Spring time. The wildflowers in my front yard are pushing upward and a few have suffered from premature blossoming:
Blurry yellow.
Which reminds me of the last time I was in Nogales, Sonora with my mother. We walked across the border and wandered through the tourist portion of town. Shops crammed with ticky-tacky stuff, a tired old burro to pose pictures with, and the street hawkers trying to sell you stuff.
"Hey man," says el hombre, a little older than me, "You need some Viagara?" Christ, couldn't he see that was I with my mother?
"No thanks," I said, my face turning red with embarrassment.
"Okay, then you want to go see the donkey fuck a girl?" Jesus H. Christ, we must have been walking down the wrong street. I steered my mother back into a shop to admire little knobs with bluebirds painted on them.
"Oh, I wish they had had that stuff back when your father was alive?" she said.
"What stuff?" I asked.
"That Viagara. After he got diabetes he could never have an erection and that was very upsetting for him. Not that I cared one way or another."
Oh. My. Frigging. God. That was a billion times more information than I ever needed to know. "Mother!" I said, "I don't want to know about that."
"Well, I was just saying...." It was almost as bad as the time I asked her why she had these purple plastic high heeled shoes. "Well, when your father gets depressed because of the stroke I take my clothes off and walk around naked in front of him wearing them. It cheers him up."
This was over 10 years ago, and I'm pretty sure I suffered internal sunburn from the degree of embarrassed redness.
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Blurry yellow.
Which reminds me of the last time I was in Nogales, Sonora with my mother. We walked across the border and wandered through the tourist portion of town. Shops crammed with ticky-tacky stuff, a tired old burro to pose pictures with, and the street hawkers trying to sell you stuff.
"Hey man," says el hombre, a little older than me, "You need some Viagara?" Christ, couldn't he see that was I with my mother?
"No thanks," I said, my face turning red with embarrassment.
"Okay, then you want to go see the donkey fuck a girl?" Jesus H. Christ, we must have been walking down the wrong street. I steered my mother back into a shop to admire little knobs with bluebirds painted on them.
"Oh, I wish they had had that stuff back when your father was alive?" she said.
"What stuff?" I asked.
"That Viagara. After he got diabetes he could never have an erection and that was very upsetting for him. Not that I cared one way or another."
Oh. My. Frigging. God. That was a billion times more information than I ever needed to know. "Mother!" I said, "I don't want to know about that."
"Well, I was just saying...." It was almost as bad as the time I asked her why she had these purple plastic high heeled shoes. "Well, when your father gets depressed because of the stroke I take my clothes off and walk around naked in front of him wearing them. It cheers him up."
This was over 10 years ago, and I'm pretty sure I suffered internal sunburn from the degree of embarrassed redness.
