Tuesday, March 16, 2004
My great grandmother was pregnant when she married my great grandfather. And it wasn't Great Grandpa's baby.
Uncle Ray, the other guy's baby, had to have his larynx removed when he was sixty because he had throat cancer. After the operation, his speech sounded like a burping electric razor.
Although I was home for Spring Break when Uncle Ray died, I was not allowed to go to his funeral. Why? Because a few days before the funeral I got into a bit of trouble with an electric razor.
I shaved the side of my head.
And, because she was always willing to help, my best friend at the time decided to shave the other side of my head to even things out.
When everything was "even" I looked at myself in the mirror and burst into tears.
Me: Oh my God! I look like a freak!
Best friend: Would you feel better if I let you wear the Truman suit?
Me (sobbing): Yes.
So, my best friend, who was one of the many mascots at the university, broke the rules by allowing me to stumble around the house in a big tiger suit. And suddenly, my world brightened.
Please excuse me for a few days. I need to see a man about
a tiger suit.
