That’s Bad – a short story
I used to drive my mom nuts whenever I called something
“bad!” Like a black 1963, split-window Corvette or a buddy performing a
spectacular jump on his BMX bike. But when I came home from school and she
asked me how I did on my test I said, “bad.” Decades later the same Corvette
was “wicked,” but mom had once read a Psalm to me that mentioned we should avoid the
wicked. And just a decade ago, a brand new Corvette was “sick!” It all made
sense to me. But not to my mom. Even so, things are changing – again.
When a friend took me for a ride in a mid-engine Corvette on Laguna
Seca raceway, I stepped out of the car and became sick. Because now it’s “dope.”
Which is fitting from becoming sick. And now, I hear a phrase like “only in Ohio,” and
I can’t tell if my daughter is talking about her geography or something else. Not
sure if this sounds nuts or weird, but I wish I could drive to Ohio in my bad Corvette.
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