10.2.08

the jimmy picture.















I made a grievous error this morning (in addition to originally spelling "grievous" wrong, duh) and started looking through old pictures. Real pictures, like on photographic paper. Talk about nostalgia, baby...I got a regular damn ol' suffusion going on here.

But I knew the risks going in, didn't I. The reason I took a chance at all in the photo box this morning was to find The Jimmy Picture: the archetypical photodocumentation of the Mooperbird in a state of nearly perfect happiness. And there you have it, above, circa 1998 maybe, on the streets of Manhattan, cracking wise somewhere in Chelsea with a hot dog and a strawberry Julius.

Hopefully I'll tell the whole story here in a few days, including the history of Jimmy the Pizza Boy and a sidebar about Mara's mystical effect on the men of Chinatown (for example, she's walking down the street wearing a shirt with the number 33 on it, a passing Indian man says in a thick accent "let me be 34"). But first another teaser photo or two from the archives. Let's see. How about this: sometimes when you see a movie from the 80s, you're like: people didn't really look like that, did they?
















I guess the point is, there are two girls in the 1988 photo above who have been "my girlfriend" for more than a year or so at some point. And then they both showed up at my wedding in 1997:
















That's Wendy and Mara. They're obviously hugely uncomfortable with the whole situation.















You can see Mara's tongue if you look real close. Me? I was busy a few yards away, harassing my passed-out dad on the front lawn.
















I like the idea that I'm trying to chat up the pile of girls in the driveway despite my dad lying unconscious in front of me. "So hey, hey. HEY. Ladies? Hey, what are you guys doing later. Yo, me and homes here (motions at Dad) know a thing we can check out after this...Oh, yeah, totally, don't worry...he's cool to drive."

I'd like to emphasize that this is the only known example of my dad being drunk. He made a special effort for me that evening, and boy did it pay off, unless you had to be on the plane home with him the next day...then, not so much.

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