My reading was interrupted by three little boys whose faces appeared in the open doorway of the stretched Humvee limousine I had parked in a church parking lot. My passengers were inside the church, a Hispanic family that had chartered the limo for the quinceañera of their 15-year-old daughter.
A quiceañera is a celebration of a young woman’s fifteenth year and can be as complicated and crises ridden as a big church wedding, and may include a special mass for traditon-minded Hispanic Catholics. Mamas and aunties began picking fabrics and making dresses weeks and even months in advance. Papas, uncles and male relatives rent colorful tuxedoes, small boys are collared and forced into similar attire. Churches, reception halls, limos and caterers are booked; invitations are printed, tempers are flared, doors are slammed, tears are shed. In short, it's a typical large formal family occasion. I guessed the boys in my doorway had gotten squirmy and restless during the long, droning service and been shooed outside by their parents.
“Boy, this is a big car,” the eldest said. He looked about nine. “Did my dad pay you a lot of money to rent it ?”
I laughed. Just the kind of artless question I posed at that age. I said he would have to ask his dad about that.
“Can we look inside?”
They seemed reasonably tame. Their white shirts were spotless, their hair neatly combed, their navy blue pants carefully pressed and shoes brightly shined. I guessed their ages to be nine, six and three. Earlier, inside the church, I had seen the eldest boy pick the youngest one up so the little guy could get a drink from a water fountain. I liked the way he helped his little brother. Sure, I said, as long as they stayed on the back seat by the open door. They clambered up the access step and sat in an orderly little row.
“What’s your name?” the eldest asked. I told them, and asked theirs.
“My name is Alejandro,” the eldest said. He nodded toward the others. “He’s Alfredo. The little one is Alexis.”
Alexis? That gave me pause. I thought the name Alexis was better suited to a tall middle-aged woman with an aristocratic bearing, maybe British, all tweeds and brogans and redolent of Yardley’s lavender soap, but not for a three-year-old boy who, at the moment, was “disappearing” me by putting the backs of his hands over his eyes. I've since learned that Alexis is a common gender neutral name in Latin America and increasingly so in the U.S., like Taylor, Tyler or Madison.
Alfredo spoke up. “Do you have to be really smart to drive one of these?”
This time I stifled a cynical laugh. I explained that you need a special drivers license to drive a limo this big, and you have to study for it, but no, you don’t have to be especially smart. But you do have to deal with all kinds of people on special occasions, and mostly you just have to follow the Golden Rule. I stopped talking at that point. I was getting preachy. Preachy adults give off blips on the unfailingly accurate bullshit radar of all kids everywhere. Another rule: When a kid asks a simple question, give a simple answer. Otherwise you just prompt more questions. Alexis latched onto the phrase right away. “Goden woo,” he said.
“I know what that is!” Alejandro said. “Do undo others like they do undo you!”
“Goden woo, goden woo, goden woo,” Alexis said.
Close enough. And it did bear repeating. Then the boys got bored and started looking outside for something to. The parking lot didn’t look too promising, but they piled out anyway and scampered off to create an adventure, leaving me to ponder goden woos and a nine-year-old’s thoughts.
“My name is Alejandro,” the eldest said. He nodded toward the others. “He’s Alfredo. The little one is Alexis.”
Alexis? That gave me pause. I thought the name Alexis was better suited to a tall middle-aged woman with an aristocratic bearing, maybe British, all tweeds and brogans and redolent of Yardley’s lavender soap, but not for a three-year-old boy who, at the moment, was “disappearing” me by putting the backs of his hands over his eyes. I've since learned that Alexis is a common gender neutral name in Latin America and increasingly so in the U.S., like Taylor, Tyler or Madison.
Alfredo spoke up. “Do you have to be really smart to drive one of these?”
This time I stifled a cynical laugh. I explained that you need a special drivers license to drive a limo this big, and you have to study for it, but no, you don’t have to be especially smart. But you do have to deal with all kinds of people on special occasions, and mostly you just have to follow the Golden Rule. I stopped talking at that point. I was getting preachy. Preachy adults give off blips on the unfailingly accurate bullshit radar of all kids everywhere. Another rule: When a kid asks a simple question, give a simple answer. Otherwise you just prompt more questions. Alexis latched onto the phrase right away. “Goden woo,” he said.
“I know what that is!” Alejandro said. “Do undo others like they do undo you!”
“Goden woo, goden woo, goden woo,” Alexis said.
Close enough. And it did bear repeating. Then the boys got bored and started looking outside for something to. The parking lot didn’t look too promising, but they piled out anyway and scampered off to create an adventure, leaving me to ponder goden woos and a nine-year-old’s thoughts.
_______________________
Comments and Indictments:
I loved it. -- Beaty
Not bad, Mike. I could see a picture in my mind -- Nick
Thanks, Nick. Your comment prompted me to add one at the top of the page. MB
“Do undo others like they do undo you!” (And run like hell, denying knowledge or involvement if caught!) Yep. Those kids are ready for adulthood. -- Brat
What a sweet story, Mike. Undo you..hahaha, and ya betta undo others first! -- Amanda
Loved it!!! -- Juli
Ah yes the golden rule....we should all remember it and put it to constant use. Once again a parable from the tomatoman times. -- Mary Pat
I enjoyed reading this essay. -- Ken
What a sweet story, Mike. Undo you..hahaha, and ya betta undo others first! -- Amanda
Loved it!!! -- Juli
Ah yes the golden rule....we should all remember it and put it to constant use. Once again a parable from the tomatoman times. -- Mary Pat
I enjoyed reading this essay. -- Ken
From Glomar:
