Medium: Quit Calling My Mom!
TO: Medium’s Uppermost Echelon
FR: Me (Roy!)
I’m using this Medium post to get your attention which I’m aware is only slightly more likely than getting my kids’ attention during SpongeBob.
There’s something you need to know:
I’m on to you.
That’s right, Green Beans! The jig is up! I know you’ve been speaking with my mom. You’re in cahoots, aren’t you? Sure ya are! I know it and now you know I know it.
If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s outsiders cahootin’ with my family.
Let me ask ya somethin’, Green Jeans: Why the shyster act? Is it because I wouldn’t pony up the five large for membership? Sure, I expected a shakedown sooner or later, but to pull a shifty and go behind my back to Mommy? For shame.That behavior’s reserved for pikies and politicians.
How’d I find out? HA! Betcha wanna know, Green Acres! Well you’ll just have to sweat it out cuz this son of a mother doesn’t dish trade secrets to just anyone. I divulge only to those within my tight inner circle.
Yup, only my tighties.
OK, since the only tighties I have are on Medium, you’ve got the bead on me. I guess the only way to tell them is by telling you.
You play dirty pool, Green Hornet(s).
Ya see, what you didn’t count on is my precious audio collection of phone conversations with my mother. That’s right! I started recording each call in 2011 after she finally apologized for waiting so long to get me to an orthodontist.
<college freshman + braces = sad face with braces>
Since then, I record every call with Mom so my wife can listen to it and gain a clear understanding of why I am the way I am.
BUT a particular discussion we shared recently was quite interesting. On April 11, I called Mom for our weekly chat. (If I skip a week, she’ll call my brother and sister to ask what’s wrong. She’ll never call me directly which is how Spanish mothers operate. I’m told this is also big with Jewish and Indian moms.) The conversation seemed a bit off. I reviewed the audio file and broke it down bit by bit.
It was intriguing to say the least -
ME: Hi, Ma. How’re you and Dad?
MA: Fine, mijito. Nice day — only 92.
ME: 92 degrees? It’s 10 in the morning over there. Do you have the air-conditioner on?
MA: Why? The breeze off the refrigerator is enough. Listen, honey: You know that I really, really like your writing, yes? I always thought you were very good with your stories.
[OK, stop right there! First of all, Mom never read anything I ever penned until just recently when she insisted I “make nice” dad’s complaint letter to the editor about the opening of “yet another mattress store”.]
ME: Really? That’s interesting. Back when I was in school, I didn’t thin -
MA: In school, you were always getting the biggest compliments from your teachers. Oh, my goodness! How they gushed.
ME: Ma, you’re thinking of your other son.
MA: No, honey.
ME: Mrs. Garza called me stupid in front of the entire class.
MA: She was threatened by how smart you were.
ME: What writings are you talking about? What did you read?
MA: On the computer. On the — the — the meteor.
ME: The what?
MA: The meteor— where you write your writings.
MA: Yes, yes — that’s it. El Medio.
ME: Ma, you never use the computer and you yell at dad when he shares photos on social sites.
MA: So you say, honey. I’m getting into the computer socials. Just yesterday, I did Faceplant with your Aunt Rosie. Yes.
[Exhibit B, Green Goblins — My mother hasn’t the faintest idea how to turn a computer on much less how to access social media. She can’t use the garage-door opener and that’s one button.]
ME: Well, wha’d you think of my stuff, Ma?
MA: Very good, honey. But let me ask you: Must you use so much bad language?
ME: What? I don’t — well, I used to but -
MA: That’s how you got into that fight in sixth grade, remember? You said a bad word at another student and they chipped your tooth.
ME: I called Debbie Tadasco obtuse and she pushed me into a door.
MA: Exactly. And one more thing, honey: You should write more about politics.
[This is your doing, Fried Green Tomatoes!]
ME: Absolutely not.
MA: But those are the most popular stories, honey. Don’t you want to be popular like all the really intelligent writers who write about -
MA: Oh well. I’ll read you anyway. Got to go, honey. Time to feed Evie.
ME: Evie? Who’s Evie?
MA: Oh, that’s right — I didn’t tell you we have a new cat. Your sister got her from a friend. She’s adorable.
ME: Good for you. Have fun with your cat, Ma. Love you.
MA: Love you more, mijito.
BOOM! I rest my case.
Not convinced? C’mon! The cat’s name is Evie! Evie! As in Ev? Ev Williams, hello? Why else would she name it that?
Why else would she name a cat Evie that was given by my sister?
My sister, who’s middle name is Evelyn.
My sister, who joined Medium last month.
My nosy sister.
I need time to think.
May 14 / Orlando