| Mama loved Elvis. She admired Bing
and Frank and was casually devoted to Garth, but her heart belonged to
The King.
Much as she loved him, though, she didn’t want to end up dying of constipation with her pants around her ankles, so she drank her Metamucil every morning, before I turned on the TV for her to watch last night's basketball game. Mama loved the Bulls almost as much as she did Elvis. She cheered for Michael and Scottie and Steve, but Dennis Rodman was her special one. He played with guts and courage and a touch of defiance and his antics didn’t put her off one bit; she understood him, green hair and wedding dress and tattoos and all. She always said that if she'd had him in the second grade he wouldn't need all this attention now. Poor boy, bad boy, lost boy. Just like Elvis. For mama's sake, I hoped Dennis was getting enough fiber. |
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©1999 by Terry Kanago.
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