There was this tree trimmer from Missouri, at least that’s what he told me did for a living. He told my daughter he was in a rock and roll band. Either way, I didn’t like him. Not one bit. Whether it’s chainsaws or electric guitars, it’s too much noise. My wife liked him though. She like the way he made Mary Jo glow. Mary Jo was our daughter.
I locked up the bank one day and on my way out a young man in a fine suit approached me. Said he needed a job. Said his family was well connected. Just needed a little experience in finance. Wanted to be a senator or even President. Either of those is respectable. Respectable and quiet.
I told Mary Jo about him while having cocktails on the patio. My wife was there too.
“MJ, there is a young man you might like”
“But I love Gene”
“He’s no good. Makes too much noise and his car leaves oil stains in the drive.”
“But he’s getting promoted”
“As a lumberjack or lead singer?”
“Dear that’s not nice” chimed in my wife. “Besides, her eyes glow when Gene’s around”
“Her eyes always glow. That’s why the boys chase her”
“MJ, make your father happy and just go out with the young man”
“It’s not fair”
“Trust me, you and I will talk in the morning after I’ve calmed your father down”
“OK mom”
She drowned in his 1967 Delmont 88.
He’s a senator.
Gene played Woodstock.

No comments:
Post a Comment