It's the day after Mother's Day. I wanted to write something yesterday, on Mother's Day but internet connectivity problems prevented me from doing so. Something my Mother is not capable of helping me out with.
My mother, like most mother's is not very technical. But I think my mother takes the prize in that arena. I remember we had an answering machine. Remember those? And she could not record or change the outgoing message without help from my sister and I. We took full advantage of my mother's technical shortcomings. One time my sister Anna Marie and I took the answering machine hostage and recorded a cover of "hello, I love you won't you tell me your name." The message was us singing (in a thick tex-mex accent) "hallo..... we laahv yoo wontchooo tal us yer name... hallo we laahv you wontchoo tal us yer nommmmmmmmmmmmmbberrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" - we thought it was hilarious and we refused to change it for her. That message stayed up for months until I replaced it with my own five minute piano concert featuring a medley of hebrew folk songs. We were not Jewish.
My mother, like most mother's is not very technical. But I think my mother takes the prize in that arena. I remember we had an answering machine. Remember those? And she could not record or change the outgoing message without help from my sister and I. We took full advantage of my mother's technical shortcomings. One time my sister Anna Marie and I took the answering machine hostage and recorded a cover of "hello, I love you won't you tell me your name." The message was us singing (in a thick tex-mex accent) "hallo..... we laahv yoo wontchooo tal us yer name... hallo we laahv you wontchoo tal us yer nommmmmmmmmmmmmbberrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" - we thought it was hilarious and we refused to change it for her. That message stayed up for months until I replaced it with my own five minute piano concert featuring a medley of hebrew folk songs. We were not Jewish.
My Mom is many things. She has a generous heart that gives the shirt off her back to complete strangers. It was not unusual to wake up early in the morning and find my mother counseling a wayward teenager in our kitchen, or to run with her to buy groceries or to a garage sale to buy furniture for a family in need. And she is just as beautiful on the outside as she is the inside. I've always been proud to have the prettiest mother.
I can remember my favorite part of the day when I was five was when she would pick me up from daycare. I'd be playing in the back and here her call my name. I'd turn around and there she was, in her signature high heels and a skirt and a perm (this was the '80s). Everyone has always told me "your mom is so beautiful."
I can remember my favorite part of the day when I was five was when she would pick me up from daycare. I'd be playing in the back and here her call my name. I'd turn around and there she was, in her signature high heels and a skirt and a perm (this was the '80s). Everyone has always told me "your mom is so beautiful."
I get my passion and fiery temper from my mother. My mother was always first to dig her long red-painted fingernails into the arm of any adult who was ever unnecessarily mean to me and threaten them with their lives. "I'll get you, you sonofabitch." - And she was always first to get us thrown out of establishments for "bad" behavior. My mother was and is the original "girls behaving badly." That's where I get my over the top, boundary pushing and reckless sense of humor from. We've been kicked out of department stores for knocking over displays, refused service at the McDonald's drive-thru because she could not bring herself to stop yelling "cheeeessssburgerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" over and over into the intercom, stared at for driving around town running errands with ice cream purposely smeared all over our faces pretending to be oblivious to it ("we have NOT been eating ice cream!" would be shouted to the bank teller, the dry cleaner, the neighbors), and gossiped about for picking pecans from our pecan trees (okay so we were crawling in the lawn on all fours laughing hysterically shouting "nueces, nueeeeeeeeeeces" (nueces is espanol for pecans) and pelting each other with them.
My mother has always been completely fearless of being silly and having a good time no matter when or where it was appropriate. She is magnetic, always the life of the party, always first to help anyone in need - and always in high heels. And I love her.
(And she is going to kill me if she finds this post and sees that picture to the left. "Dammit Danny! You take that down right now you sonofabitch" - But I love eighties helmut perms.)
Talk to you soon.
Danny
P.S. I bet Mother's Day is very expensive at the FLDS ranch.
