I'll Give You Ten Bucks to Rake Those Leaves

 
My Grandma, the Great-Grandmother finally came by to visit today. I so wish that she were fully with us to enjoy this amazing boy. I wish we could go back somehow and he could grow up mowing her lawn, driving her around and generally doing what needed to be done. A little because that gig paid pretty well and we need the money, but mostly it’s because there’s nothing cooler than tooling around with your Grandma, not caring if you look goofy or not; there’s nothing cooler than road-tripping with your Grandma and listening to. . . Well, let’s see. . . The first thing I remember listening to with Smokey would be that crazy CB album with the song “Convoy” on it. That was on 8-Track in her Royale 88. We’ll leap ahead to Huey Lewis’ “Sports”; then, I think it would be Billy Idol. Probably the last thing we listened to together was “Check Your Head”.

I wish so much Max could have that: back roads of Wisconsin, Grandma’s Regal and the B-Boys: “Funky Boss, Funky Boss, Funky Boss get off my back!” Not caring about a damn thing, laughing with your Grandma and hearing stories about how the train strike in the Forties screwed up the Coca-Cola business. You got a better way to spend your summers? I didn’t think so.

I’ll tell Max the stories, though. Some days, when he’s sleeping too late, maybe I’ll poke him with a crutch and in my best “Yoda” voice, wake him with the simple question: “Hung-over?! Hmmm, Hung-over?!” I’ll laugh until I cry and Max will just wish he could have a normal Dad.