I was cleaning my apartment on Saturday and I realized that I have not only morphed into my old man in some senses, but I have turned into my mother as well. I was mopping my kitchen floor when I realized that I had put a little bit of bleach into my mop water. My mom did this and still does to this day. So there I am mopping away in my kitchen with a faint aroma of Clorox in the air. All I needed was some Motown music. Now you're saying that I was probably sniffing too much bleach, but it is related. This all goes back to one of those childhood memories we all have.
First of all, remember back to when you were 13 or 14. On Saturdays, instead of getting up at the ass crack of dawn, you wanted to sleep in a bit. I was so over Land Of The Lost and the other cartoons that made up my Saturdays at that time. I was now able to stay up late Friday nights and I totally did. But parents are a different breed. My folks were up before the sun making coffee and talking around the table on Saturday and Sunday mornings. Why? No fucking clue; if anyone needed to sleep in, it was them. Why don't old people sleep in? Again, no fucking clue. I still love to sleep in when I can. To this day, if I sleep past 8, I've wasted 1/2 the day according to my old man. Anyways, my folks would go their separate ways after their morning coffee (dad to the garage to work on some project that would never get finished and mom would clean house).
8 AM. It starts. Mom would rouse us little by little from our sleep but we'd fight it. She'd pull off comforters, shake you, tell you get your ass moving, etc.. Nothing sane would pull us from sweet slumber's death grip. So mom had her secret weapon. She'd gather up all her old 45's and start playing them ... loud. We'd be treated to the sounds of The Supremes, The Temptations, The Four Tops, Marvin Gaye, and the other great Motown artists first thing on a Saturday morning. Before I knew it, I was wide awake with "This Ole' Heart Of Mine" blaring away. So I'd get up, get dressed, wash up, and grab a duster.
I'm permanently scarred from those incidents. I still put bleach in my mop water, I still play music when I clean my apt., and Smokey Robinson makes me want to grab a broom. So next time you're in your car or at home or at the mall and you hear a Motown song, take a second and dust something off for me.