anyway, it was so hot that i couldn't sleep last night. like at all. then it was so hot that my hair wouldn't dry. and so hot that my deodorant wouldn't really soak in. that's gross.
but while i was not sleeping, not drying and not deodorizing, i wrote this blog entry in my head.
it's about oral histories. and how they get passed down from generation to generation. and how they get retold. embellished. distorted.
i wonder how many of my family stories are really true. i wonder if i've embellished some of them myself. i wonder how my kids will tell them.
like this gem:
my grandfather's name was sam cook. there was a "sam cook auto sales" there in forest city. auto-sam was of no relation to pawpaw-sam. but auto-sam apparently sold lemons. not real lemons. but cars that were lemons. because pawpaw-sam got phone calls all the time about those lemons.
what did he do? he said, "yes, sir. i'm so sorry that your new car broke down five miles from the dealership. things like that just shouldn't happen. how about you have that lemon towed right back here and i'll just swap it out for another. you tell them sam sent you."
what do you think? true? sounds true. fits with all the other pawpaw stories i know. like that he used to sit at the window and shoot squirrels with a handgun. or, my favorite:
my father went to pawpaw and said, "dad, roxanne and i are getting married." what did pawpaw say? "that's great. who did the two of you find that would have you?"