Parental Visit Wrap-Up: Part I
My father was a Greenpoint greenhorn. Until I moved to Greenpoint he equated New York Shitty with the worst it had to offer: midtown Manhattan. Pa Heather made numerous trips to our fine city “on business” before he retired. These usually entailed being shacked up in some shitty corporate hotel on Times Square. Well, dear readers, he has returned home a Greenpoint believer.
Yessiree. The Pontiff of Poop (I acquired my predilection for all things scatological from dear old dad— he can back-up a toilet like no one’s business) loves him some Garden Spot.
This is the first thing that caught my father’s eye upon riding the G train for the second time: a woman wearing an incredibly short miniskirt with high heeled boots. Her entire ensemble was trimmed in gold. LOTS of gold. It was topped off by a huge mop of permed hair. BIG HAIR. After all, the bigger the hair, the closer to god.
Pa Heather: I saw a woman who looked like that while waiting at DFW (Dallas/Fort Worth Airport).
Me: It took me years to figure out the fashion here, but I did.
Pa Heather: ?
Me: You hit the nail on the head. There is very little difference between the likes of her and Texans. You could put her in a shopping mall in Dallas and no one would notice.
Therein lies the rub, dear readers: NO ONE WOULD NOTICE.
Inasmuch as we New Yorkers would fancy ourselves as being different, the fact of the matter is we Americans are all pretty much the same: Gauche. Hence why I didn’t mind when my mother chided me for dressing like “a bag lady” the last time she visited. There is no better means airing one’s dissent in an affluenzic society than looking like a homeless person. What’s more, it’s damned comfortable.
Methinks I will have to take this sociological experiment to a higher level. I will dye my hair gray. Nothing will render a person more invisible to our society than being elderly, poor, foul-mouthed and bat shit crazy. Maybe I’ll start a new trend and twenty-somethings will being eschewing Brooklyn Industries for the local pharmacy. Surgical stockings, colostomy cans, walkers and Metamucil might just become the new trucker hat. Who knows, crazier things have happened.