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Do you know the old joke?

my mother in the nude

A: Do you have any naked pictures of your mother?
B: No!
A: Would you like to buy some?

This is why you must never try to set me up for that joke. Yep. It’s Mom, in the buff, circa 1960. She was 30. Actually, it’s a photo of a Xerox of a stat of a Polaroid my dad (whew!) took. The original hung on the wall of my office. It was a popular attraction. My mother only visited me up here in Yankeeland the one time and she was shocked when she saw it.

“What kind of daughter hangs a naked picture of her mother on her office wall?”
“The kind of daughter who has a naked picture of her mother.”

Then I showed her the Miracle of Photoshop and she spent half an hour trying to fluff up her right tit because, “it was all flat from nursing you.”

I was going to try to elevate the tone of this blog today, but screw it. I got a notice that I never quite finished some paperwork related to Mother’s sad little estate, so I had to go into the Ouchy Folder tonight and try to find one last copy of her death certificate to file with some useless scrap of bureaucratic hoo-ha. One more verse of the Intimations of Mortality Rag.

I found her Do Not Resuscitate order. She had to counter-sign it herself. Can you imagine what a downer that was for her? There’s a real grown up moment, right there. I found a bunch of paperwork from the hospice, chock full of vomitous metaphors about ships and naps and adventures. I found a bunch of uncashed checks I never opened because I assumed they were bills I had taken care of (yes, Uncle B, I’ll make some calls tomorrow).

And I found a whole stack of Xeroxes of this picture. Mother always said, “I hope you don’t post this on the Internet” in a tone that sounded like of all the things in her life she really didn’t want to happen, if this one happened it would make her the least unhappy.

So there you go, Mom. Immortality.



p.s. I don’t seem to have any more copies of the death certificate, dammit.

p.p.s. I’ve called my mother “Mom” twice in this post, which might be just enough to earn me a haunting. Only I’m pretty sure she’d have haunted me already for the hell of it, if she possibly could.

p.p.p.s. No, we don’t look all that much alike.


Comment from Pupster
Time: December 11, 2007, 7:03 pm

Uhm…oh-kay then.


This is kind of a tribute thing, yes?

If I perchance happened to light upon my bunk for a moment of reflection, with all due respect, can I assume this will be taken in the spirit intended? Good clean fun, and all that?

Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: December 11, 2007, 7:46 pm

You’ve really left us po’ li’l minions nowhere to go, Stoaty.

When Dad died I found several naughty photographs (yes – of Mom – amongst others), and when Mom died I found recreational “items” that will never be described or divulged to the rest of the family.

Our parents are ALWAYS all-to-human – just like every one of us.

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: December 11, 2007, 8:29 pm

S’okay, McGoo. It’s…whatever.

Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: December 11, 2007, 8:42 pm

I don’t know about Rhode Island, but in the happy state of Mo it can take a looonngg time to get copies. So the funeral homes always chisel folks into buying a (marked up) shitload. I bought 15 for Dad – and used two. No – three, but I got one back.

So I bought 7-8 (I don’t recall exactly) and used ……wait for it…..one. I used two, but one was returned after copying.

Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: December 11, 2007, 8:43 pm

That last should have a “for Mom” in it somewhere.

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: December 11, 2007, 8:53 pm

Well, we’re talking Tennessee here. But the lady at the courthouse ten years ago (which is also the lady on the email today) was and is as nice and helpful as she could and can be. I got…six, I think, but apparently needed seven. I’m thinking this is why I didn’t tie this up nice and neat ten years ago…I ran out of death certificates and, simultaneously, the ability to see the goddamn point.

Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: December 11, 2007, 9:27 pm

Someday I’m gonna connect Tennessee with Weasel’s fambly. I bet things are easier in Tn. Its always seemed to me that the further south and west you go, the easier things/people are.

Comment from lauraw
Time: December 11, 2007, 10:38 pm

That has to be the p-shopped version. That top boob should lean over, somewhat like the other one.

*shuffling feet*

Uh. Sorry.
Seems like she was a rather cool chickie.

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: December 12, 2007, 6:42 am

Yeah, there’s a definite symmetry problem there. I think that might’ve been what she was trying to correct, though. Appallingly, I can’t find the original to compare.

Comment from Gibby Haynes
Time: December 12, 2007, 9:06 am

Symmetry looks okay to me, and I look at a lot of, uh, art.
I’ve still got both of my parents, so maybe this sounds naive, but I’ll say it anyway: sorry to those of you who’ve lost them.

Comment from Christopher Taylor
Time: December 12, 2007, 4:33 pm

I have to tell you the last thing I want to see is my mom naked at any age.

Comment from mesablue
Time: December 12, 2007, 4:51 pm

Is that a leopard skin couch?

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: December 12, 2007, 7:11 pm

No, mesa! It’s a lovely Victorian floral brocade thing. She might’ve been slutty, but she wasn’t tacky.

Well, except in the late ’60s.

Pingback from Who Has A Picture Of Their Naked Mom? « Innocent Bystanders
Time: December 14, 2007, 4:03 am

[…] 2. We had a pretty interesting discussion about parents recently in the Secret to Raising Smart Kids thread. So, you may be wondering how S. Weasel became fondly attached to this picture. Read the rest here. […]

Comment from Retired Geezer
Time: December 14, 2007, 4:16 am

My parents got into home developing of photos in the 50’s. I found a couple of nekkid shots of my mom. Pretty much the same style as yours.
Not sure where those photos ended up.

The other thing she was into (photography wise) was hand coloring B&W photos with little tubes of color and Q-tips. We all looked like Space Aliens.

Good Times.

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: December 14, 2007, 7:17 am

Geezer! My mom did that! Hand tinted photos, I mean. I remember those tiny aluminum tubes of paint and the Q-tips!

My mother was a really excellent portrait painter, though. Pefeshionally trained and everything. So it came out…as well as those things could come out, which wasn’t great.

Comment from Dave in Texas
Time: December 14, 2007, 9:39 am

She was quite lovely.

Ouchy folder

yep. Sorry you had to dig into that one toots.

Comment from eddiebear
Time: December 14, 2007, 10:20 am

RG: Speaking of touched up B&W Photos:

When my grandparents were married in th 1930s, they had a B&W photo of them at the church tinted. Weirdest thing I ever saw.

And before anybody asks, they were clothed.

Comment from Michael
Time: December 14, 2007, 6:00 pm

I was going to try to elevate the tone of this blog today, but screw it.

Heh. That’s pretty much a lost cause at IB.

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