These folks were the epitomes of every her and him.
The men were all smooth-shaven with haircuts short and trim.
The ladies of the fifties had their pearls and curly hair,
and fancy little house dresses were what they chose to wear.
Their kids were the epitomes of reproductive joy
who could serve as patterns for the perfect girl or boy.
They came out cute and perfect, created just to please.
They never fought or cheated or brought home F’s or D’s.
How do I know that what I say is not stretching the truth?
How do I know these folks were all red-blooded, honest, couth;
and that every one of them maintained the stauts quo?
I know for I’m that perfect child in the very front row
who somehow by the sixties got somewhat out of step
and later by the seventies had misplaced all her “hep,”
did not become a hippie until nineteen eighty seven,
and will join the moral majority much too late to get to heaven.
I am not the epitome of any group you know.
I do not wear the clothes you wear or go where you may go.
Epitome’s a talent that I forgot to hone,
and ever since I’ve chosen a pattern all my own.
(These nice people were my parents and neighbors in the little town where I grew up and this poem is in no way meant to denigrate them. I’m sure they were all unique individuals, as well. It is the tendency of eras to turn into cliches that I am satirizing, not them.)
I love this photo I took of my friend Pat, my upstairs neighbor at the beach. She was good sport enough to give me permission to use it on my blog. She is not an oddball, but she would agree this photo is a wonderful oddball!!!
Although he looks like he’d rather be anyplace but here, his hand was actually the first one that shot up when the teacher asked who would like to run for king. Five years later, he is taller than his mom… and almost as tall as I am. Sweet Oscar. Wonder what he’d think of those blue satin knee pants now???
Here is a picture taken two days ago. It is of Oscar, his dad Pablo, his mom Yolanda, sister Yoli and me, aboard the pontoon boat Batur for a fundraising concert to send a San Juan Cosala girl to music camp in Huntsville, Alabama. First time anyone in the family had been on the lake, in spite of the fact that they were all born here. Yoli was thrilled! More photos to follow. I look frazzled. I was! Oscar has changed from being a frog prince to a bat man!
I very much wanted to get a nice portrait of this darling family at our club New Years party, and the mom seemed perfectly happy to oblige. The lighting wasn’t good, so I assumed there would be some problems, but . . .
the kids seemed to have a different idea about what constituted a good family portrait.
When their older brother zoomed in to join them, I assumed he would instill a little family order. Wrong! The mom still seemed oblivious to what was going on behind her back and to her right.
So big brother joined in the fun. Mom still cute, isn’t she?And innocent.
Finally, mom cottoned on to what was happening and tried to restore order.
I just couldn’t resist posting this picture. A visiting friend asked if it was okay if he removed his shoes and of course i said no problem. Imagine my surprise when these toes presented themselves to my view, just a foot or so from where I was sitting on a nearby stool. He nonchalantly twitched his toes as he told an engaging tale. They were sort of like a director’s baton, giving emphasis to certain emphatic points in the story.
If you know who this is, shhhhhh, don’t tell. I don’t want to embarrass anyone.
I think it is obvious why this picture naturally fell into the oddball category. I didn’t crop, wanting you to know I had the good sense not to be in the same room with this cranky old codger, who was 1500 miles away as he serenaded me.
I don’t know why I find this picture oddball. Perhaps it is the “Mickey Mouse ears” on the little girl that are really the heads of two boys in the water, or the contrast of all the bobbing heads with the one boy stretched as far out of the water trying to catch the ball that was thrown by whom? Perhaps it just happened to be flying by like the pelicans that are above and out of view.