My mother’s name is Marge. I call her Marge In Charge because.. she is. She’s also known as The Marginator. The fact that she carries a loaded gun in a Folgers can in the trunk of her car inspired the nickname Make My Day Marge. It’s caffeine free Folgers, by the way. I don’t think the best part of waking up is a bullet in your cup, but you can’t argue with the Marginator.
We’re a family that bounced back and forth between a small town in Colorado and a small town in Missouri, eventually ending up in St. Louis. St. Louis is baseball crazy for their Cardinals and especially their Cardinal player legends like Ozzie Smith. If you are not familiar, Ozzie Smith is a clean cut looking black man in his mid 50s.
One day we had the opportunity to meet Mr. Smith. My mother had no clue who he was. I introduced myself, then presented my mother. She stepped toward him, leaned in real close and raised her eyebrows while touching his arm, “It’s nice to meet you, but I don’t quite understand why your music is so loud.”
The baseball great stepped back from my mother and replied, “Ma’am?”
Mom waved her hand in the air. “Oh you know. The music. The music! It’s just so loud. Why does it have to be so loud?”
Ozzie Smith turned and gave me a confused look. I looked back at my mother, who was dead set on getting an answer from this very confused man.
Then it hit me.
“Mom, that’s Ozzie Smith. The baseball player. Not Ozzy Osbourne, the rock star.”
My mom nodded her head seriously. “Oh! Well, of course!” She turned back to Mr. Smith. “Well, when you see Ozzy Osbourne, could you tell him to tone it down a little? I know the kids like that loud music, but it’s really out of control!”
To his credit, Ozzie Smith took her hand, smiled, and promised he’d deliver the message.
A photo of Margeinator, Myself and Miss Boo (to make her debut one month later.)
