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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