Cracklin’ Rose, You’re A Store-Bought Woman

storeboughtAnnalisa wrote that last after I was talking to her in my usual obliviousness.  I don’t know why I am like I am but I recalled standing in between the cars in the parking lot at our high school, smoking a cigarette and watching her laugh and socialize in a large group.

I couldn’t for the life of me figure why she wanted to do that, told her I was just standing there like a pile of mud, it seemed totally not worth it to me but there she was, laughing and throwing her head back like a horse, she was a favorite of the African Amercians in the school for some reason just so you can get a picture of this. She was always in a big crowd and I was always thinking, wtf?

I recalled this for her and she said I was not a dirt clod or mud but very focused.  I thought it was interesting and probably correct because I would drill whatever I was looking at or thinking about even if it was why the hell she”d want to talk to all those people.

I am not talking about 2 or 3 people. I am talking about a crowd, more like 10 or 15 people and we were from the desert so I just didn’t get it at all.

She said (today) that I had my own way of thinking, that I looked at her and at my older sister when I was young and I just saw nothing that I was going to emulate. I have to say, she’s right.

My oldest sister was six years older and she didn’t like me one bit so that right there made her a flying foriegn object. Annalisa  was in the middle sort of went between the two of us.  She’s social, see?

My oldest sister is a double Sagittarius so she was always leaving anyway and my thought about her was always, “When?”

It’s not that I didn’t love her. I tried to save her life as an adult but she was bleating all the time and beat the shit out me so you know.  When she left I was doing back flips. You just can’t treat someone like shit for 10 years and expect them to like you all that much.

Anyway, Annalisa picked this up. She said I didn’t want to be like my sisters which is true.

“You came up with your own thinking. You see things in your own way…”  She mentioned they had Sagittarius in common which I lack.  She said I wanted to be effective which is true.

I told her about Rowe in the book I’ve been writing about, how I thought we had very similar minds. She was surprised someone could or would have a mind like mine but I think I convinced her.

I could convince you too but I get in such trouble for comparing my life to these figures (icons) who have suffered like Rowe, or Elizabeth Fritzl and the like. I don’t know why this is because I rank right up there with them but people are obviously freaks.

I’ll end on a humorous note, at least I think this is hysterical.

The other day I posted the song, “Cracklin’ Rosie” which my mother had when we were kids.  We were spectacularly poor and my mother sewed all our clothes.  I didn’t care about this but Annalisa sure did. She has always, always been interesting in clothes and fashion.

Anyway, there is a line in that song, “Cracklin’ Rose, you’re a store-bought woman…”

“What is that?” I asked, Annalisa, curiously.  I’d have been about eleven. “What is a store-bought woman, what’s that mean, anyway?”

“It means she get to buy her clothes in a store,” she said. “Unlike us,” she added with her nose sort up in in the air.

“Oh,” I said, walking away more confused and curious than ever.


Comments

Cracklin’ Rose, You’re A Store-Bought Woman — 6 Comments

  1. “I could convince you too but I get in such trouble for comparing my life to these figures (icons) who have suffered like Rowe, or Elizabeth Fritzl and the like. I don’t know why this is because I rank right up there with them but people are obviously freaks.”

    Maybe it is because authors keep making shit up in their memoirs so people don’t know who to believe anymore.

  2. Well I love when My Woman Dress and Looks like That that is for Sure !!!!

    And It always makes me Wonder !!!!!

    P.D. I Am Laughing as i write This Because It Reminds me many Great Moments !!!

  3. Having never heard the song (sorry, didn’t listen to it the other day), just the phrase “store-bought woman” makes me think of someone discardable: there’s twenty others just the same, sitting on a shelf waiting to be bought.

    Probably waaaaay off the mark, but that’s what ran through my head. *smiles*

  4. i think maybe people want to think that the experiences of people like that… don’t happen to people one could actually know. that they’re… out in the blue hazes and not something that could just happen to someone…

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