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Red hot Mama....
Red hot Mama....
A childhood recollection.
I grew up in a suburb north of Toronto, Ontario and my young mother was a very beautiful woman.
On the weekends the family would pile into our rotund Volvo wagon for a trip into town. Usually we would go to the St. Lawrence market which - if you don't know it - is a kind of multi ethnic culinary chaos.
I was about five or six at the time and so I was always holding onto my mothers skirt tails. In the crush there was so much to see and do. Often there was a blind man selling pencils, and always there were street musicians, once I got to taste real Turkish delight (tastes like cheap shampoo). An interesting sight were the butchers pigs hanging upside down in a row. They were in complete sagital section, brains and all.
I noticed that my mom always got a lot of attention. Often the male stall-keepers would wake up and call out to her, usually remarking on one part of her anatomy or another. It was a little scary to hear the cat-calls and see the winks, but mom was a game lady and she took it all in stride.
Late in the morning mom would visit the (mostly) Italian fruit sellers. With a proud mixture of titillation and annoyance she would wade in for the families weekly supply. Haggling aggressively she would have to strike the deals (and the occasional outstretched hand) before returning with the straight goods.
When the shopping was over we would share a treat. I noticed that mom was usually in a better mood, kind of bubbly and elevated. I could relax and we would have close, friendly conversation. The rest of the day would then always go well, with contented children sleeping on the way home.
What is this mysterious force of sexual attraction that cannot be denied? Is it good? Is it bad?
All I really know for sure is that it does (sometimes) bring us together.