the platitudes of willful resemblance

Today, 125 years ago, John Pemberton concocted his cure all tonic which would eventually keep America stoned until they removed the special coca ingredient – probably resulting in the seventies and eighties coke binges and nose bleeds.

I hear my son walking around singing and now I shift from soda products and soda jerks to the woman who everyday makes me proud and reflects a light that comes from a place I am not aware, My wife – the perfect mother and a fine woman. Baby, happy mothers day – I won’t bill you for the pancakes and bacon this time.
It takes a fine woman to raise a boy like Jackson and to tolerate a man such as I.

I love you baby.

My Mother – a woman rarely spoken of here largely of her unwillingness to allow me to share her story which is a hell of a story – I’ll wait for her to perish and tell it, damn her sisters that would probably be eternally upset by its truth. Anyway – Thank you for bearing me into this world and, variously, assisting me in becoming the man I am now.

My secondary mother – my sister. Thank you for never dressing me up as a girl, thank you for holding me in your lap and I bled half my bodies capacity onto your body and lap – you were twelve and mistaken for my mother – this is not the last time that has happened – now I call you my little sister as I am a manly 6’2″, 300 lbs and you no where near it. It was so good to see you recently and I can only hope you take my wife’s offer to stay here on respite from a blissful like in Colorado.