Amoeblog


(In which Job honors his Mother.)

Posted by Job O Brother, May 10, 2010 12:27pm | Post a Comment
 

victorian woman
An actual picture of my Mother (not pictured here).

In honor of this week’s Mother’s Day, I’m dedicating this entry to my Mammy. 

I remember Mom liked the house kept quiet so she could concentrate on reading her scripts. It also allowed her to track the progress of the housekeepers; she could hear if they were spending their time talking, how much time they spent scouring the living room tile, etc. It was kind of intense, but not as bad as when she stopped getting decent movie roles and her alcoholism worsened. That’s when she started beating me with coat hangers and…

Oh, you know what? I’m not thinking about my mother. I’m thinking of Mommie Dearest, the movie about Joan Crawford, starring Faye Dunaway. Sorry.

My Mom never once beat me. How silly to get the two confused! And as far as an alcohol problem, that’s ridiculous – she would never have been able to maintain her job as a church organist if the body of her Christ was vodka over ice! I mean, I guess it wouldn’t matter anyhow, since she was fired from that job. Plus, she kind of drove her car like she was drunk, so it was no surprise when she and her automobile careened off the road one day into a river. She had insurance, so that wasn’t a big deal, but it was a problem when the undead started haunting her and robbing her of an ability to determine that which was real from the ghostly hell of the after-life underworld.

Oh my God. I am so sorry. Totally not my Mom. I mean, yes, my Mom was a church organist a while – that’s totally accurate – but she was never tormented by the souls of the undead (unless you count having potluck lunches with some of her conservative, right-wing cousins).

No, quite the opposite – my Mom was the life of every party! She even helped invent a dance craze in the roaring 20’s…

No! She was too busy entertaining guests at her sprawling mansion with the help of her wife Annabell…

Sorry, I meant she was a great 15th century Russian icon painter who traveled the world looking for work until she finally settled at the Andronikov Monastery after escaping the Tartars where she prevented the rape of Durochka by slaying a man, an event which caused her to fall into self-doubt, give up painting, take a vow of silence, and perfect the art of making perfect French fries.

Okay. Seriously. Enough silliness. Let’s be sincere about my Mother. My Mother who is the Battle of Gettysburg.

civil war
Looking as fresh-faced as ever...

What follows here is a small selection of music that reminds me of my dear, sweet Mammy. If you want to know where to find any of this stuff in Amoeba Music, come see me and I’ll hook you up. If you wanna find my actual Mom, be sure to wear a jacket, because she’s currently in 1911, leading a team of men and sled-dogs in an effort to become the first people to set foot on the South Pole, which she will successfully do, beating British explorer Robert Falcon Scott by 34 days. Yay, Mom!





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