A comedy of errors yesterday morning wound up devouring half of my day…. but offered some brain food.
My mom called and asked if I’d pick her up from dropping her car off at the shop.. A little independently owned joint in what’s now become the Bosnian ghetto of inner south St. Louis.
About a quarter of the way into the city I noticed I was almost out of gas… but figured I’ll pass a gas station that sells diesel…. Bad figuring.
I wound up crisscrossing south-city for 30 minutes trying to find a station… but finally did….
Got to the garage – picked up mom – got about half-way out to her place way out in the periphi-burbs and she realized that her house key was on the ring with the car key, which were in the possession of a guy with the name “George” embroidered on his left chest.
Sooo.. Back to the house…… Picked up Chad… Took him to work… Then, since we were downtown, – stopped by Gorman’s warehouse studio and fed her cats (mom’s pet sitting for her) – then went to the garage – then took her all the way back out to the county.. THEN raced back into town for a 12 lunch appointment.
Anyway… When I was searching for diesel I wound up in the most depressed section of south city along a strip of road called “Broadway” which runs parallel to the river and is the address of burnt-out storefronts, industrial chemical tanks and blocks of small frame houses which would make your modern trailer look luxurious.
I stopped and snapped a photo of one of the burnt out blocks with a “River View” behind hit… and subsequently got propositioned by a hustler / bumb… I took the shot quickly – but didn’t take the offer of a twenty dollar hum-job.
It was purely one of those exercises in appreciating what you have…
I tried to explain this to mom, (dramatically), buy pretending to cry hysterically and bitch about my life:
“Ohhh wooois me… We live in a 1400 square foot house!” (*sob*)
“and we’re OWNING it!” ( *sniffle *)
“Ohhhh…. and it has a yard… and nice neighbors” (* sobbing more *)
“Ohhh.. and we can only afford one car….” ( *sniffle* )
“AND IT’S A 2003 MODEL!” ( *balling hysterically*)
She didn’t comprehend the meaning / message / irony behind my melodramatic outburst.
She thinks I’m turning into a socialist.
I think I’m not blogging.