small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: don't call it a comeback

Tuesday, July 17

don't call it a comeback




My aged mother has been in the hospital the past few days so I thought I’d yank something out of the archives featuring her.

I love her to death and there’s never been a time when she hasn’t had my back. Plus she lets me store my bike over her house.

My mother’s a piece of art all by herself. She’s getting kind of long in the tooth these days and her swing isn’t as quick as it used to be, but she’s still a contender.

You know her and my father was married for forty three years, and get this; they knew each other since early childhood. That’s what happens when you’re both raised in the same small town in West Texas and that’s a lot of years to be seeing the same face even though she wishes it could have been more.

Years ago back when I was still somewhat cool I scored a backstage pass to meet BB King through an old roommate who knew members of the band in a “biblical” way.
And since my mother’s a huge blues fan I decided to take her so she could meet and hear the master at work.

They were playing at the Uptown Theater here in town and we had sweet seats near the stage. We’re sitting there listening to BB do his thing when this chick I knew walks up to the table.

Have I ever mentioned that if you were to see me and my mother together you’d have trouble believing she was my mother?

Well the chick sure didn’t, plus me and the chick used to be kind’a close if you know what I talking about. So she sees my mother sitting there with me and gets the wrong idea. The first thing she does is kisses me on the cheek then tells my mother to get up and unass the seat.

My mother say’s; “that’s my baby I’m sitting with if you don’t mind”.

The chick tells my mother that I’m “her” baby and she needs to go find some other man to sit with.

Of course I’m off to the side taking bets on my mother who I knew from experience had an evil left hook that just devastates.

Both women were getting all facial on each other when I decided to break it up. I asked my mother to calm down and told the chick who she was and to apologize.
I ended up telling my mother for years afterwards I couldn’t take her anywhere due to her always starting the shit up.

Some years later it was my thirtieth birthday and I figured I’d do it up something special and invite every woman I knew over to the apartment for a birthday party.

To my credit I actually had around fifteen women show up.

Talk about your laid back who-do. See, back in the day I had a thing where that every women I liked had to meet each other. It made for one big sort’a happy family and it kept the bullshit down. Of course there were the exceptions to the rule.

The Violent Stripper Chick had a hard time with that rule and the Stressed out Italian Stripper had issues also.

But back to the party, did I tell you that my Mother showed up?

For years whenever my Mother would call my place she never knew if she’d get to talk to me or not. If the Stressed out Italian Stripper answered the phone and she thought I was tired or busy she had no problem hanging up on my Mother.

I’d go visit my mother and she always ask me how was the evil bitch doing and I worked hard to make sure the two never meet. But with the party going on and all I completely let things slip.

My Mother had baked me this birthday cake and had it sitting on the dining room table all nice and shit. About an hour into the party the backdoor banged open and in came the Stressed out Italian Stripper wearing a leather and lace cat suit, and she had her own birthday cake.

She walked into the dining room and I swear to god picked up my mother’s cake and just fuckin put it in the kitchen sink, then put her cake in its place. My mother freaked the fuck out.

“Who’s this bitch and why’s she touching my fuckin cake”?

I heard one of the chicks in the living room holler out; “that’s Greg’s evil stripper roommate”.

“Oh, so you’re the bitch always hanging up on me whenever I try to call Greg?”

To make a long story short I had to step between the two of em. But at least they got to meet, and I had a memorable thirtieth birthday party.


"and the monkey flipped the switch"

5 Comments:

Blogger Miss Ann Thrope said...

Your love for your mother is obvious. I love her too just from this one post!

I hope she feels better soon.

10:20 AM  
Blogger Jeff said...

Great Post man.

Good thoughts on your mom.

JeffO

10:44 AM  
Blogger Spyder said...

Prayers for your Mom's quick recovery. I see you take after her! "fuckin cake” LOL

12:10 PM  
Blogger Spyder said...

Hey Greg how's Mom doing?

11:44 AM  
Blogger Greg Beck said...

she's back home and doing well

11:48 AM  

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