This is the One-Hitter, don’t forget to exhale
Chorizy-E and I share a fair amount of our teenage and young adult years with you readers or podcast listeners. We aren’t much different than any of the rest of you that grew up in the 90’s and became adults in the early 2000’s especially from the Midwest. Although, in general, we had very good relationships with our parents. They had their issues as any adults do, but it never really turned into any long term pain or anguish for me. I have an ongoing healthy relationship with my parents…..or should I say, UNTIL NOW!!!!
The picture above is a spry and earnest, yet handsome young BeefLoaf, probably about 2-3 years old. I’m on a swing, having the time of my life. My old man probably pushed me a few times and then swung around to take the picture. He was an amateur photographer and a damn good one, there are many pictures just like this brandishing my folks single family abode in the Bridgeport neighborhood. But just the other day, I took notice of something glaringly obvious about this picture that has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, but I don’t see it here…
Do you see any difference? This picture is from circa, “Drunk Uncles of White Sox Twitter”. You damn right you see a difference. Look at my fucked up nose now and look at that cute little button nose I had back in the early 80’s. I think I know what happened.
The modern parable The Goonies might shed some light on what could’ve happened to the modest nosed BeefLoaf. I guess I’ll probably never know what actually happened to create the honker I currently sport, but I suspect foul play and my folks definitely know what happened. Should I confront them? Or should I leave our excellent relationship in tact and live with not knowing?