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Teenage Birthday
Glynn, Fermin, Hunter, and Jacque came by on the Sunday after the Fourth of July because Hunter's birthday is the 3rd and Glynn's is the 4th and I had told them we could do a movie and the all you can eat buffet. I think its been two years since we have been out together, except for last year when I took Hunter and Glynn to the Westbank to each get twenty dollars worth of fireworks.
Hunter is seventeen and the other three are sixteen so I was trying to impress them with my MP3 player because I don't have anything else they would consider "new," and would not already be entirely hip to. But out of the eighty hours of music I was having a hard time finding anything appropriate to what I know of their tastes. I tried Family Affair by Sly and the Family Stone and they all recognized it and started dancing, in the front room here at Rocheblave. Fermin performed movements from the Michael Jackson school and Hunter was doing Bill Cosby. "This how Bill Cosby dance," Hunter said. And he performed those awkwardly graceful making-fun-of-dancing gyrations that Cosby does pretty well. Hunter also does a great white person imitation, equal in tone to the master, Richard Pryor, which I love, but as a white person feel awkward encouraging him to do. He can make the adult in me laugh hard, so I really apprecitate it when he does the white guy. The other boys will look nervous when he does it because they are being overly sensitive to the insulting aspect of the imitation. I appreciate that too.
I guess if I looked at it too hard I would agree that Men In Black II was not a great movie. I was stuck on the third row and two of the boys were in front of me and two more were in front of them. Like I said its been two years and I didn't want to spoil their fun but I also did not want them acting the fools in the theatre so I gave them the speech about the Palace being better (?), and more expensive, than the (the no longer existing) dollar cinemas and how I would absolutely not tolerate loud goofiness outside of the proper context. And they were perfect young adults, and the two toddlers, boy and girl, who made some noise and played hide and seek on either side of my most bony knee did not distract me from the apparently less than perfect Men in Black. I was happy they liked me enough to balance their tiny little hands on my knee. I generally don't smile on distractions in the movie house, but apparently on this day I was in a most convivial familial mood.
I should tell you about the cats but that would go on and on.
At the all you can eat steak house/buffet even Jacque ate a fairly large portion of some hopefully non-salted food. I was struck by the words that came with his first self-served plate of corn and something else that did not look so appetizing which were him saying he had asked someone about the salt content. So that was heartening, this adult behavior which had him taking care of himself until comes the prophesied outgrowing of his life threatening medical condition. Salt causes Jacque's whole body and most notably, his face, to swell up to alarming proportions. I think to his and their advantages what Jacque has in common with the other three boys is that he has more than one person looking after him (Jacque splits his time between his mom in the Lafitte projects and M on Dumaine. Fermin between his mom in the 7th Ward and M on Dumaine. Hunter between a sister in the 6th Ward and M on Dumaine, and Glynn between his grandma and M on Dumaine), and that's not including my haphazard, very occasional efforts, and those of maybe two fathers and an aunt and uncle or two.
The fried shrimp did not seem very much salted to me and I suggested Jacque try one and he said he sometimes ate them at home. His second plate was full of shrimp and he finished his meal lazily with one ice cream cone after another. "This is my fourth one, Mr. Jim." To see Jacque feast is a treat, his diet as I have seen it, so constricted as to be bleak.
Glynn clicked with the waitress and was never wanting for Hi-C (fruit punch).
Fermin is the only kid I know who given the chance will eat voraciously from the salad/fruit bar.
The place was packed and we had to sit in the smoking section which was ok until people started smoking. A big fat intimidating preacher lookin' black man dressed to the nines and companioned by a young female escort, who had pushed himself quickly in front of our party when I briefly hesitated at the smoking room option, was now smoking, as was the Joe Dirt lookin' dude behind me.
"Hunter," I whispered, "go tell that big fat preacher man to quit that smoking. It's bothering me. Tell him it is unsatisfactory. We insist that he put the damn thing out. Tell him that and whatever else you wanna tell him. Let him know we ain't scared."
"This the smokin' section, Mr. Jim."
"Tell him we don't care about that, tell him we won't tolerate his behavior."
Hunter smirked, got up quickly and B-lined right to the guy, causing me no small momentary grief, before veering off towards the dessert bar. In a barely perceptible sideways glance he smirked again, and got himself an ice cream cone.
I dropped them all off on Dumaine, where Glynn's dad and stepmother were up on the porch, hangin' with M. I waved, stated the obvious, and drove on home.