My mom recently called to tell me my picture was in my hometown newspaper, the Helena Independent Record (for all of your sakes, I hope the headline “Flight from Helena diverted because of passenger who said he’s an alien” is still the Breaking News alert when you click on the link.)
“Your picture is in the paper!” she exclaimed.
“I didn’t steal that Yugo! I was framed!” I replied.
“Nothing…” (despite giving birth to and knowing me for a quarter-century, my mom rarely understands my sarcasm.)
(Also, that part of the conversation didn’t actually happen, as I just now thought of that reply, because I usually think of witty replies/comebacks several days or weeks after I need them. I know that’s how it would have gone though.)
(And I only admit to this because, as someone in the running for No. 1 Squirrel Thoughts Fan/Most Frequent Squirrel Thoughts Commentor, I know my mom would’ve blown my cover in the comments section.)
(The rest of this post is factually accurate. I swear.)
“Umm, why was my picture in the paper?”
She went on to describe this:
And before you ask, yes, I was in high school when that photo was taken, despite looking approximately 9-years-old in it. And, if you look reallyreally close, it’s also quite evident I’d recently lost a tooth. In high school. (I was a late bloomer as far as teeth are concerned, and when everyone else was losing their last teeth at 8 years old, I was just losing my first, and didn’t lose my last until high school, andit’skindofasensitivesubjectsojustBACKOFF!)
Then, a few days later, she sent me the link to this, a letter to the editor submitted by my dad (who, BTW, never goes by “William M. Squires” in real life, just in his curmugeonly-letter-to-the-editor life), a passionate reply to an apparent rash of letters complaining about Helena not being biker-friendly enough.
In case you couldn’t tell from the letter, my dad is an avid bicycler and will go to the ends of the earth to ride his bike everywhere/defend his decision to ride his bike everywhere even if it’s snowing/40 below zero/hailing kumquat-sized iceballs. As in, the following Calvin and Hobbes comic mirrors my childhood:
All that stuff he describes in the letter? Yeah, he really does/has been doing that for basically all my life. And, much to the chagrin of my circa 1997-2003, desperately-clinging-to-normality self (I know — who was I kidding?), he does so while wearing Spandex.
I’m starting to seem a lot less weird now, aren’t I? (That last statement would be completely true if I hadn’t taken up running in Spandex as of late. Or if I hadn’t done any of the other things I’ve done in my life, ever. Hey, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my dad, it’s to quit resisting already and embrace my true self, even if that self is really, really random and weird. Hence: this blog.)
Anyway, I digress. I totally had a point when I started writing this, and it is this: the Spandex-clad Squires Family is taking over – first the Helena IR, then the world. Don’t pretend like you’re not scared.