MarxLennon's Gratuitous Image Page

As I mentioned last week, my mom was the one who kept things pretty calm and stable at home. God knows my dad's line of work creates enough chaos and weirdness. Mom just takes it all in stride. Not even finding the babysitter naked and asleep in her bed fazed her. Every once in awhile she still laughs about that. The only time I've seen my mom a little irritated with my dad has to do with the newest tattoo craze I mentioned in last week's chapter.

When I was home for Christmas Break, we were all watching the news because there had been teasers on all day about a new craze surrounding my dad. Imagine my surprise (not) when they showed a picture of a big breasted blonde woman sporting a "Jesse James" tank top. I suppose to would be redundant to mention that her breasts were falling out of it, but I digress.

Anyway, the news crew was at a local tattoo parlor. Seems women were getting my dad to autograph various body parts, and they would immediately run to the nearest tattoo place to get the autograph permanently tattooed to their bodies. Several women were "featured" in this bit. More than a few were willing to show off their tattoos.

Guess which body part my dad signed on the big boobed blonde? If you guessed her breast, you'd be wrong. Had it been her breast, my mom probably wouldn't even have blinked. No, my dad has signed his name so far up the woman's thigh, that he could have done a Pap smear with no trouble.

Now, you have to understand something about my dad. Ever since I can remember, he's had women throwing themselves at him. He gets flashed, stalked, propositioned and periodically, some woman gets into the station while he's doing his show and strips. None of this fazes him. He's always viewed his popularity with a mix of incomprehension and amusement. Unlike certain other radio personalities, he doesn't think this makes him better than mere mortals. Besides that, he's never been interested in anyone but my mom. It didn't surprise me that dad humored the woman and autographed her where she asked him to. It surprised me that it never occurred to him that mom might think he'd lost his mind and wouldn't see the humor in it.

When the picture of the woman came up, with the blue dot strategically placed over her "what's happenin'", my mom shot him a look usually reserved for bad children and unruly dogs. My father, of course, remained oblivious, and was laughing. My mom, as is her habit, said nothing and went about her business as per usual. Us kids knew dad was going to feel the wrath, but we weren't sure what form it was going to take. My mom gets her point across in ways that leaves no doubt in the transgressor's mind that they screwed up.

We had to wait a week before we found out how mom was going to let her feelings known. I was somewhat surprised she waited so long, but then again, dad was so oblivious, he wasn't even aware that the other shoe was about to drop. My dad was on his way out for yet another autograph session with his adoring fans. As he was walking out the door, my mom said, "Jesse, you forgot something." She was holding up one of the old black bags doctors used to carry for house calls. My dad said, "What's that, Chrissy?" She told him to open it and find out. All us kids, of course, gathered around to see what mom was up to. Dad opened the bag and pulled out speculums (if you don't know what they are, look it up) of assorted sizes, a tube of KY Jelly and rubber gloves. Dad gave her a confused look, and my mom just looked at him sweetly and said, "Honey, if you're going into the gynecological business, you need the right instruments." Then she kissed him, and told him to have a good time. My dad now has a policy that if they want the inside of their thigh signed, he will go no higher than the bottom of their shorts.

As I said last week, my mom has always been the stabilizing influence in the house. I've never heard her raise her voice, nor seen her react beyond the "you've gone too far" look. I, personally, have seen that look more than once. For me, that's all it takes. I don't play with my mother. Only a fool would, and my momma didn't raise no fool.

Mom's not a big woman, and she's got that "Earth Mother" quality about her. Some people believe that means she's meek and mild with no discernable personality. Nothing could be further from the truth, as people who try to play her for a fool, or treat her disrespectfully find out. All it takes is a look, or a few choice words, and people know not to cross her again. The other side of that is her willingness to help anyone in trouble. People in our neighborhood call her before they even call the police or an ambulance.

Ah, hell. Dad informs me that I'll have to continue on with the story of mom next week. Apparently I have diarrhea of the word processor. Gee, I wonder where I get it...

Well, I've got to tell this before I go. I made my dad promise not to visit me on campus. I like it that nobody knows I'm Jesse James' daughter. So we usually get together somewhere else, like restaurants in nearby towns.

After Christmas Break, I was in the dorm and this girl came running up to me.

"I was you having dinner with Jesse James in Akron!"

"Ah, yeah. He's a friend of my dad."

"So, like, there's nothing going on with you two?"

"NO! He's a friend of the family. REALLY."

"GREAT!!! I'll be right back." And she ran down the hall to her room and came running back. "Do you see him a lot?"

"Every so often. Why?"

"Could you give him this?" She gave me a picture. "I just love him."

"This isn't real is it?"

"Oh, yeah," she said pulling up her tee shirt, showing me her boob, "See?"

And Dad wonders why I don't want him to visit me on campus.

MarxLennon's Gratuitous Image Page:

The Front Page.