Is the Doubt Better than the Cold?

3D Street Art, Stationsplein, Arnhem, Netherlands

A cranky old man slips on a banana peel.

I keep on expecting the price to go up, new varieties to be marketed. It’s still all cheap Cavendish. Fungi travel slowly. But steadily.

A lot of fruit can’t multiply because they are multiples of one. The fruit in the Organic section have the same clone mothers as their cheaper relatives. Are clones siblings?

My mother liked to dress my two younger brothers and I in matching outfits. It increased the staircase effect. The grandmothers would make her day while we were avoiding getting our cheeks pinched.

I couldn’t understand why my mother didn’t like rock and roll. I tried gateway music: ballads, prog rock, folk. It didn’t bother her.

Once I discovered that one of her albums had a French cover of Ruby Tuesday. It didn’t count because he was a famous French singer.

When American Graffiti came out there were a lot of articles about the birth of rock: Alan Freed, Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry. Nostalgia for some, a history lesson for me.

I realized that my mother had been in her late teens/early twenties when Rock was coming out of the womb and making itself heard. She said it was the music of the greasers and that she rode the train in first class to avoid those type of people.

Rock was in it’s late teens/early twenties when I started to know it. It was still young and rebellious. It was here and it wasn’t going to die.

Elvis was only a few days younger than my mother. His death made her perceive mortality.

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