After shave, sometimes, but cologne, overwhelming spice and alcohol, no. Though, when the heat is overbearing, and the mint mixes with the musk, the tobacco and square dance sweat, yes. It is the confusing bouquet of my uncles, about to hit Texas on the trail, about to get into the kind of trouble they warn you about with a wink.
They would give me a couple of dollars in change, and the local pizza place had those cigarette machines, and you would pull on the knob and get nothing from time to time, but a pack frozen in place between the glass and your happiness. If it was your dad, you would scour the parking lots, the phone booths, construction sites were good for slugs, but you wouldn't come home empty handed.
I am older now than they in these memories, and cannot believe I am denying my son the rawness of this imagery. I am raising a person who will be completely unlike me in all the ways that count, and wonder if he'll be worse for it.
Not better, no. The imagery is fine, looking out the window as I ride between rests.
“Ain't a lot of boys wear berets around here.”
“Ain't from around here.”
“Ball caps, mostly. People might think you're different.”
“Good christ, I hope so.”
4 comments:
Get OUT of my HEAD!!! Just two minutes before reading this, I told a friend that my daughter is me without the baggage of a disabled sister and a strict german father. When I look at her I see who I could have been without anger and fear. But then, but then, but then. . .
is it wrong to wish upon our children that they be better, newer, brighter and smarter than we are? does evolution work this way?
i am still too busy wishing that I will be better, newer, brighter and smarter. the kids better wait their turn, goddammit!
This? This is perfect. I love this post. I want to marry it and make it happy for the rest of its life. (Which, should be approximately 1 or 2 days, which, is about the duration of my willpower anyway, so it should work out just great.)
Dude. That is pretty much how I feel when I look at my nieces.
Except you said it better than I could, which, to be honest, kind of makes me hate you. But in a highly complimentary way.
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