Strangers in Similarities

The more I listen to SMODcast the more I realize that Kevin Smith and I are more the same than we are different. Both of us are too fat to fly, both completely obsessed with film and what that means to us as audience members and writers. Both of us are still trying to figure out our origin stories. We both have incredible weakness for beautiful, funny, smart ass women that when they smile or laugh with us we WIN!! Geography seems to be the one big difference; he’s a Jersey boy and I’m a Southern girl. I mean that and he talks about his penis A LOT and I rarely mention my Vajayjay.

Recently I listened to his two SMODcasts which he recorded with his Mom (Grace). I learned that both our Dad’s were postmen, both of them loved to travel and with the help of extremely Catholic wives built a home where the children grew and prospered. Both ultimately leaving organized religion to the vultures of politics, extremists and pedifiles.We both had Uncle Mike’s, and loved one set of grand parents and hated the other. His mother and me were both adopted through Catholic Charities and had similar family falling outs over blood vs. water.

What really got me though was the way he made his mother laugh, especially after getting her high on some “baked” goods. It made me think of the time I came home from my first attempt to move to New York. My best friend from college was home as well and her parents put together a soup night for all of us to get together and hear me tell my tall tales of the big city. Well I went off!! It was the first time I think I performed stand up. They all were laughing so hard. You know that laugh were you almost can’t breathe and your face starts to hurt. When I heard that sound I remembered Mom's face, and that through the hysterical tears I saw her beam with pride. She didn’t live to see me do stand-up, but she knew I had some of their story telling magic, how I was going to use it was still a mystery.

Even Kevin’s delivery sounds like me telling a story…it’s freaking me out a little bit. How he swoops in before she can catch her breath and hits her again with something louder an even more outrageous. I’m totally jealous that Kevin gets to record this oral history with his Mom. I’d give anything to have Doyle & Mariea over to the treehouse to record a Work in Progress. Hahahaha!! Lord knows my father could tell hilarious stories and my mother’s dry wit could cut your funny bone in half.

There are so many holes in my memory that it would be great to be reminded of all that I’ve forgotten. All those crazy family trips, and near death experiences, pets through the decades, dead relatives, the crazy crap my mother wouldn’t through away etc…So thank you Kevin, thank you for sharing your family with me, it made me feel closer to what my life was before the treehouse years.