Texas Plates and Elevator Shoes

Posted: December 22, 2012 in Life, Mom, Russ
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Mom began seeing signs not just in billboards, but also in license plates. For whatever reason (one could assume Ross Perot‘s campaign may be the central, overriding factor) we started seeing a lot of Texas plates on the highway between New York and Philly. Mom took this as a sign that we were being watched – that we were being “considered”. We had to be perfect at all times – Mom had to learn a new way to dress, for example. She had to start wearing heels and makeup, and start dressing “classy” (I put this in quotes, because it wasn’t actually classy – just what she considered classy to be). Gilt shirts for example. Do you remember the kind they had in the 80’s and 90’s that actually were gold but also had that the shine to them? I even thought they were tacky as a kid. Anyway, she wore those. Make up, too – her face was always darker than the rest of her body by several shades (I guess that’s from a base that wasn’t matched right). She didn’t really know how to be classy, and it wasn’t her fault – she didn’t grow up in that environment. Moreover, she was a jock – in her younger days she was very into softball and other sports. Not exactly on the same plane as the world she was trying to enter.

When she didn’t see Texas plates for a while, she’d start to get upset and worry. She’d call Russ.

Mom: We haven’t seen “our friends” in a while. Where are they? I hope I haven’t done anything wrong…

Eventually she’d see some again (or thought she did) and all would be well.  She started asking Russ how and why he looked different too – this is one area she decided she didn’t want to pry too much into for some reason, but I do remember one particular conversation they had.

Mom: How’d you get so tall? You’re really tall today!

Russ: Elevator shoes.

Mom: Oh, wow. Elevator shoes…

Russ was, I assume, making one of his jokes. Mom instead took it as further proof – an admission, even – that he possessed the tools to dress up as somebody else. Once again, why anyone (let alone anybody famous) would want to dress up as Russ is beyond me. But then again, I’m not crazy (which is a blue eyed miracle).


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