Last week as wife unit & I were driving back home towards what turned out to be a nightmare ride on I 64 and I 95 (I know I mentioned this earlier) we got a call from a cousin of mine who supposedly was calling to wish us both a happy birthday (wife unit & my birthdays are but a day apart).
Then after some small talk, we were asked if we had any idea of the whereabouts of my late mother’s wedding dress (wife unit wore it).
Wife unit and I looked at each other with the ‘Ah, hah’! look …….. THAT was the real reason for the call….
Told this cousin after the marriage ceremony was over, my mother took it back to the States with her, that was the last we knew of it and she ought to have called my youngest brother first, as he’s still living in our parent’s house (its his house now) and if there was anyone who might know where it is, it would be he.
Now to get my ears lowered before going back to the ghetto company on Monday; not that a good haircut or hair length matters there…
Coming back even but for an all too short 10 days has made me realize I have taken much for granted here, as many who leave their home do I suspect. Feel a bit prodigal son-like Its wonderful to revel in the diversity here and if that is a crime-ridden cultural cesspool as so-called brother, Pound Salt calls it, I’ll take that over the desolate, bland and boring intellectual vacuum called Ohio, which he calls ‘Real America’ any day.