Added:
She died 5 days before Christmas after 9-11.
Some holiday, huh?
I had to choose the casket, the memorial handouts, prepare the text of published notification, apply for duplicate copies of the death certificate, travel 300 miles to pick up my Sister and have her stay with me, duels between two girlfriends,
choose what my Mother would wear, what jewelry, the animosities within the family....
STOP!
I don't give a damn about your petty grievances!
Go out back and beat y'all selves senseless for all I care.
But if any of you sully the memory of my Mother,
I'll be the one to beat you senseless.
Every since my youth,
I've given my Mom a red rose for her birthday and on my birthday.
I made sure of a red rose on her gravestone....
"So, you're saying that our subject, Scott, is seeing things through his mother's glasses...
ostensibly, through his mother's eyes...
That's....an interesting concept. We'll need more info on his mother and influences...."
"Yeah, I guess what you're sayin' might be true....
{spit of cigar-end tobacco}
But I think you might want to think twice about messin' with Scott.
You see, I barely know him, but I've seen him deal with
punks like you. He will take your lunch, eat it in front of you
and make you pay the tip.
I've seen him eat eggs and gunpowder for breakfast from a tin can that he carries,
curse lightning and laugh at certain death.
I've wrestled grizzlies in Alaska, fought fire ants in Georgia,
out-shot a dozen bounty hunters at once,
but,
I ain't gonna mess with Scott."
"Um...Barney...is he talkin' 'bout Scott?"
"Shut up, Gomer! Shut up!"
He ain't talkin' 'bout Shaft!
(If you listen closely, you will hear the words, "Can ya dig it?")
{{Full Circle?}}
Best,
Scott
