Soundtrack to Disney’s feature length animation, “101 Dalmations,” played on my red portable record player/briefcase — Cruella De Vil rocked. The chorus sings how she made her husband take her last name. What a woman! Too bad about her puppy-skin coat fetish. (And that fat ugly husband.) Debbie Boone’s “You Light Up My Life” — For a third grader who enjoyed singing herself to sleep with sad tunes like “Leaving On a Jet Plane” and “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” this was I-T, in feathered hair. My younger brother’s musical selections — These included classics by Donald Duck, Alvin & the Chipmunks, and Wonder Woman’s theme song. I admired his musical maturity and confidence, especially with the 8-track tapes. Cory Hart, “Boy In the Box” — He wore sunglasses at night. ABC, “How To Be a Zillionaire” — How do I? That K-Tel one with “My Boyfriend’s Back,” “Leader of the Pack,” and “It’s My Party (and I’ll Cry If I Want To)” on it — I find my niche! Alas, I was born 20 years too lat
Hey. You know how it snowed? And there was snow on your car? Well I’ve got a surprise for you. It‘s not any more! I know. Let’s jump up and down. How’d the magic happen, right? Well I went outside in the cold and cleaned it off. You're very welcome, my pleasure, no trouble at all. I almost enjoyed being outside in the fresh air. Anything for you. Oh, by the way. Just a small thing. In the future, maybe after the rainy season, you may see a tiny bit of rust. Like a line of it here and there. Mostly on top of the car but also on the hood and trunk areas. Roughly where snow would be if your good friend here hadn’t cleaned it off wayyyy back in winter. Brrrrrrr, right? Gosh it‘s cold. From the shovel scratches, silly. You shovel snow, you don’t kiss it away. I was shoveling the sidewalk and the next thing you know I was being helpful to you. Steel-bladed shovels work great! Yeah, let’s go see how great it looks. Look there. Isn’t that friendly, that one almost says “Hi!”
“Anizo 100% Reality Mind.” What this means, I have no idea. A friend found it living in a vending machine on the street in China and brought it back to Boston for me. The one-inch tall yellow plastic guy (I think it’s a he) has a smile, a blue tear, a pair of hand holes, a growth atop his head pierced clean through, and, on his backside, a man getting squeezed between two lines that I hope do not represent butt cheeks. The warning printed on the paper insert commands, “Do not use as lifeguard equipment.” Anizo and I, we’re inseparable. Anizo 100% Reality Mind!
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