Magazine article National Catholic Reporter

Omigod, I Am Becoming My Mother!

Magazine article National Catholic Reporter

Omigod, I Am Becoming My Mother!

Article excerpt

My mother, like your mother, used to say, "Just you wait! When you're my age you'll think the same thing!" My mother, when she got old, used to say, "The golden years? Bulls--t!" Well, here I am, 70 years old, and, looking back, I see my mother sneaking up on me. God rest her soul, I am becoming like her.

Whenever I visited Mom in her later years she would make me go to the 7-Eleven and get her copies of the National Enquirer, Star and Globe. "Mom," I said, "you shouldn't read those rags. They're trash and they're not true."

"How do you know?" she said. "You don't know! Now go and get me those papers. Your mother is old and can't go anywhere."

Dutifully, I drove to the 7-Eleven and laid the tabloids on the counter in front of the elder Hindu gentleman who looked into my soul. I was as embarrassed as when I was a teenager and bought my own copies of Playboy, Rogue or The Dude at the drugstore. I looked down when I paid the man as if I were 14 years old again.

The weird thing, the thing I don't understand, is that for the past year it has come to my attention that when I go to the supermarket, I invariably pick up a copy of the Enquirer or the Star at the checkout counter. It's not that I believe anything in them (well, some things have to be true), but the tabloids do promise entertainment as I eat my pistachios at the kitchen table when I get home. I am particularly drawn to issues that have photos of movie stars who have cellulite or are too fat or too skinny. All right, maybe it's schadenfreude or maybe I miss The Dude, but I confess: I like looking at Sandra Bullock in a bikini and derive satisfaction that Keanu Reeves has a potbelly, too. …

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