Friday, January 17, 2014

4944. LIKE DETECTIVE OVERLOAD

LIKE DETECTIVE OVERLOAD
Let me just go, five more minutes running off.
Like when my mother fell from the caboose, or
my father ended up in the hoosegow  -  something
Spanish, about the courtroom or law  -  which I know
as jail. I bailed him out you know  -  used my house as
collateral. Gambling like a crazy man; what could go wrong,
and what did I care? He was my father after all?
-
Now it's like 20 years later already and he's gone. I
realize he actually did skip bail. Where's that leave me?
Well, fatherless if nothing else. And a motherless child
to boot  -  but now a child so old that age like this doesn't
matter. My friend Jessica says I'm not old. I reply, 'No?
Sixty-five, I say, is the new ten.' I expected to bring down
the house; instead no one laughed  -  they just all got up
and left. Laughed, left, what's the difference anyway?
It just depends on how you say it. They both sound alike.

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