My ma is still recovering. She’s making great progress learning how to walk again but obviously the mobility isn’t what it used to be. So she can’t hit the casino every day. Maybe just two or three times a week. In between days are for resting. Rest days are boring. It’s a lot of hours confined to a bed in an apartment with no company. You can imagine why my dad is a runner. He’s running a half marathon on Sunday but mostly I think it’s just an excuse to get out of the house for a few. I mean, my ma, this woman, she does not stop. Even when her legs aren’t moving her mouth is. A couple of weeks ago she wanted me to explain The Hunger Games to her. I have never hated anyone as much as I now hate Suzanne Collins.
So it’s about making sure she’s distracted. Giving her something to think about or watch on those days she’s not gambling. Amazingly enough, what I learned last night after calling her, is that one of those distractions is ...
Dancing With The Sh-ts.
Now I know why Dancing With The Sh-ts is on the air. For people like my ma, the Chinese Squawking Chicken, well into her 60s, who can barely understand the language, and watch only for the sparkly dresses and the thick makeup, and the legs that fly up in the air now and again. But I wonder if those tv executives and the marketing people, I wonder if they know how cheap she is. She’ll sit through the has-beens twirling but she will not spend extra on the new super absorbent paper towels if it means she has to pay more. See, it’s the children of immigrants they should be focus-grouping. My ma will just come to eat your free food.
Yours in gossip,
Intro for May 2, 2012