We've Come a Long Ways, Baby

Squinting in the dairy section

local grocer, wooden floors, they

don’t make em’ like that any more;

where is it? That sour-cream substitute

blue and white tub...

A voice in my head says “Gone since

the eighties...” Mom’s voice, gone

since the eighties also. She went out

with the sour-cream substitute, back when

life was slower but not necessarily better.

Too many choices for shampoo today.

It was Breck, Johnson’s: man names,

back in the day. A man’s world where you

kept your ass to the wall or the men

were free to play. “Men will be men,

after all” mama said, chin up and

barely a hint of bitter. Rushing home to

make daddy supper on time...her, not me.

Definitely not me. Rotisserie chicken,

bag of Friskies Seafood flavor...that’s me.

We survived. All of us. All of it. And

not just the ass grabs. Six inch thick

Dacron wads during that shameful time

of the month. Head tilts to the “fairer sex”

kudos for getting it right. Barefoot, pregnant

and fighting for “our man” when he was found

with some shameless hussy in the night.

Home-wrecker. She was. Men will be men.

Real sour cream has more calories, It’s a

fair trade; my cat is the only one begging tonight.