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The Way I’ve Scene ItBY DENISE POYERWhen I think of my good old days, my mind’s eye sometimes re- members them in black and white, like an old square photo with tattered corners. Thousandsof days ago, the whole Brush clan piled into the pale green Country Squire sta- tion wagon with the faux wood sides and made the short trip that always felt long to see our aunt. She was my mom’s aunt, so to four young kids, she always seemed old, though she was probably actually closer to the age I am today, so yikes.We knocked on the door of her little house in Kalamazoo, and when the door finally opened, there stood Aunt Grace... in her Cross Your Heart bra and slip... with a pair of granny-panties... on her head like a night cap. Her response? “Oh dear! You’ve come to visit and I only have on my under-skirt! Let me go get some clothes on.” The door closed, and we stood on the steps looking at each other until a few minutes later, when she returned fully dressed. We filled her tiny house and pretended like we didn’t think that wasn’t the funniest thing we had ever seen.Another time, she wore her polyes- ter double knit pants backwards to our house. Instead of fretting or simply step- ping into our very pink-tiled bathroom to turn them around, she took advantage of the opportunity to tell us what she had done – pointing out the seams that ran down the back of her legs instead of the front. My Grandmother wore two dif- ferent shoes from time to time, and my mother was a nut snuggled right next to the tree.My stereo was my most prized pos- session, and I spent endless hours listen- ing to records. My mom asked me if I liked Fleetwood Mac, and when I said that I did, she proudly produced a re- cord album from behind her back. She was beaming when she handed it to me. I took it and thanked her. A little while later, she popped her head into my room and asked how it was. I hesitated, notHey... It Happens!wanting to hurt her feelings, and then gently broke the news that it was not very good at all and was some unknown, no-name group who did a cover album and not actually Fleetwood Mac at all. She could not stop laughing. She said she had not noticed the words “singing the songs of Fleetwood Mac” in big print on the front. Her laugh was infec- tious, and then neither of us could stop laughing. I would prop that record up in obscure places for her to find. It would always end up back in my room, and it would be funny all over again.Evidently, my own dorkiness is inher- ited, and the dumber the move, the more apt I am to tattle on myself for doing it. We were up north with our friends, Kurt and Wanda on a Saturday, and U of M was playing football. I don’t give two hoots about football, but the Hub does, so I put on my one and only Michi- gan shirt to show my support. We weregetting ready to go to dinner when Wan- da asked what was with my elbows? I had a shirt on under that one, so I figured the patch-elbow was all wonky because of that. “Are you sure they are supposed to be like that?” She gently wondered. “Oh... yeah... I guess.” I thought nothing more of it until I was doing laundry the following week. I pulled the shirt from the dryer, gave it a quick shake and start- ed to fold it. Wait! There was printing on the back AND the front? Seriously? How could I not have known this? My mind flashed back to our trip. There, at the Shipwreck Restaurant, with my coat off, I paraded myself to the bathroom with Go Blue! emblazoned across my chest and the logo and scoop neck on my back. I must have looked like an idiot. Appar- ently, I have reached that time in my life, so there is but one thing to do. Do any of you know where I can get some maize and blue granny panties for my head?MotorShopis proud to support...40 Bartlett Street ■ Battle Creek, MI 49014PH 269-968-2241 ■ FX 269-968-6069 ■ www.mselec.comA PORTION OF THE PROCEEDS FROM THIS AD WILL BE CONTRIBUTED TO MILES FOR MEMORIESCHARITABLE ISSUE I SCENE 4311 7


































































































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