In my new life, I kind of teach 2 and 3 and 4 year olds. And geez, some of the things they say, I hope they remember that they said them. Because they’re kind of brilliant, and it would be a shame if some of those things get lost in the infantile shuffle.
I remember being little more than a baby in my diaper. I never slept as a kid. I never sleep now.
But I remember being maybe 2, maybe barely a 3 at the most, and watching Saturday Night Live with my parents. The house was very different in those days. We had a little tiny black and white TV sitting atop a beer barrel – yes, an actual beer barrel – where my future awesome fish tank would sit. And we’d watch SNL cuz, fuck, I was never one to sleep on a Saturday night.
I remember being horrified by the Mr. Bill bits. “He did nothing wrong! Why is he getting hurt all the time! He’s such a nice guy!”
Not in so many words, but that was what I was getting at.
But anyways, what I remember most were the bits when Paul Simon was co-hosting. My mom and dad would STFU whenever that happened.
I couldn’t make my mom and dad STFU for anything in those days. So when someone could, I kind of paid attention.
I don’t remember what happened in those sketches. But what I do remember was that, as a child, when my mom was at work on days my dad would be home with me, he would sing “Still Crazy After All These Years” to me.
My dad still had crazy Charles Manson hair in those days – almost similar to the hair I have now. But there was that one night my Mom went to a bachelorette party. (yes, I remember this and knew what it was, probably because my dad told me what it was, repeatedly) And he knew I liked lemon-flavored things. So he tried to make a lemon meringue pie for me. While singing “Still Crazy After All These Years”.
I don’t know what the fuck he did, but the meringue blew up all over the fucking kitchen and onto the ceiling.
I can’t tell you the last time I’ve ever tasted a real lemon meringue pie. But I can tell you that, to this day, I know every word to “Still Crazy After All These Years”.
Many, many years later, when I came home for Thanksgiving, my parents threw me in a car and parked it at Mohegan Sun, where we would see Simon and Garfunkel perform live as a surprise present to me. I'm pretty sure it was 2005 because they knew I was having a shitty year. I'm not a huge Simon and Garfunkel fan, but some songs of theirs. fucking kill me.
And we sang along the whole time. Me, mom, and dad. It was like a non-verbal, non-commital "hey, son. We're gonna be okay."
My parents are weird, wonderful people that I wouldn't wish upon anyone else. Because if they were anyone else's, they wouldn't be mine.
I was wearing my underpants and nothing else at all these times. That is where I was going with this.
