Mama Said

When I was a young boy my Mother had a few rules for me.  Not just the usual ones like "don't pick your nose" and "don't fight with your Sister."  No, I'm talking the kind of rules that will get you disowned and thrown out of the house kind of rules.  If I wanted to live under Mom's roof there were three rules that could never be broken.

Rule 1.  No Motorcycles.

Honestly, and I'm not making this up, I didn't even ride a bicycle until I was 12.  I never even had my own bicycle until I was in my twenties.  My Mother was totally against motorcycles for many reasons.  First, anytime you ever heard about a motorcycle accident the rider ended up as road pizza.  She didn't want me either dead or in a coma.  Also, I don't think she wanted me to "associate" with the motorcycle crowd.  And to this day I have never owned a motorcycle.

Rule 2.  No Tattoos.

I guess you have to remember the era where my Mother came from.  Only really bad criminals had tattoos.  Heck, even back in the 60's, a woman couldn't get hired as a stripper if she had a tattoo.  Yes, only the most delinquent persons of society had tattoos on their skin.

While she was telling me all of this she made sure to let me know exactly how tattoos are done.  You have to imagine her telling a little kid all of this.  She asked me how I liked getting shots at the Doctor's office?  I told her that I really didn't like them.  She made sure to let me know that to put a tattoo on someone they used a machine that rammed a needle repeatedly into their skin.  Did that sound like fun to me?  Guess what, no it didn't.  And to this day I have no tattoos.

Rule 3.  No Banjos.

It's true.  My Mother hates the banjo.  It has such a bright and annoying twang that it's like nails on a chalkboard to her.  And while I have two cellos, a number of guitars, I have never owned a banjo.  I have worked on them.  I have even played them in music shops.  But I have never owned one, and never will.  It's not that I don't want to own one.  It's just that Mama said.