Mallory's Camera

The Maxer dropped by yesterday on his way to SoCal.

"Beau's really gotten into climbing," Max said. "So we figured we'd try to lure Dad out under the pretext of Father's Day –" Max laughed.

"Your father's very into climbing," I objected softly. Indeed when I first met Bill, he was a veritable mountain goat. One of our first dates, in fact, was scaling Indian Rock in Berkeley. I am desperately afraid of falling – from any height, even wimpy heights – so I'm afraid I was a washout at the climbing. But I was a pretty strong cyclist (for a girl) and I'd already made up my mind to sleep with Bill that night.

And twenty-four years later, Max stares at me from across a booth at RG's.

It was good seeing him. Max has always grounded me. I backburnered much of my own weirdness in order to be a good parent to Max. It is odd and regretful that I haven't done the same for Robin, but then I haven't been a single mother to Robin so I guess I felt I didn't have to.

News? _______ has finally gone off to rehab. That was only a matter of time.

I've always really, really liked _______ – watched him evolve from basketball prodigy at age 12 to slacker par excellence at age 21. I feel badly for him now. He has a really good heart, is bright too in his own _______ way.

I'm also a bit mystified as to how _______ came to have a drug problem. I mean – I have no problem with drugs as long as their use is recreational. They are illegal, of course, and "justice" here is highly discretionary – if the person who nabs you is an asshole, you're cooked. In that sense illegal drug use is always a cost benefit analysis so these days I don't do it.

I don't know what drugs got _______ busted this time but I do know he had quite the predilection for opiates at one point.

I had quite the _______ habit myself way back when. Which got me into a huge amount of trouble.
When the trouble was over and I was staring at the ashes and twisted metal beams of a burned bridge – once a major transportation artery but that road was closed forever now – I had a revelation: opiates are analgesics; people who take them may think they're taking them to get high, but really they're taking them because they're in a huge amount of pain.

But how could _______ be in pain? His parents are rich as Croesus, they've given every indication that they will continue to support his slacker lifestyle for another fifty years –

It is a mystery.

After I interrogated Max about his grades, his health and his love life, we started talking politics.

"Mom and I are against each other again," Robin volunteered.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "It's true I supported Hillary Clinton in the primaries. But now I'm a proud Obama girl. An Obamatron! Want to see my robot dance?"

"That won't be necessary, Mom." Max.

"But I'm not for Obama anymore," said Robin primly. "Now I'm for McCain."

"What?" I shrieked.

"Mom. Keep your voice down." Max again. Oh, dear. I'm going to be one of those embarrassing old ladies, I can already tell.

"Why do you like McCain?" Max continued.

Robin squared his shoulders. "Because I'm for the war in Iraq. Gigi's brother is in Iraq. And he wants to be there, he wants America to win."

Oh dear, dear, dear, dear. The Gigi family, paradigm of stability, Dad a fisherman, Mom in the kitchen cooking – probably she collects ceramic roosters.

"You know honey, just because I'm against the war doesn't mean I'm against soldiers. I love the military. I give a military discount at the store – I think we're the only business on Cannery Row that does. Tons of military people come into the store. I like them a lot. But the war is just bad."

"No, it's not," said Robin stubbornly. "We're bringing democracy to that part of the world –"

Max laughed. "Democracy can't be brought to that part of the world! The people there have no model for it. It's all about tribal warfare, think red states and blue states only with plastique explosives instead of hanging chads."

"Well what do you care what I think," Robin asked. "I'm only thirteen, I can't vote."

"Of course, I care what you think, honey," I said. "You're my son, you're one of the people in the world I love the most. And honestly – if I thought you'd thought this through and you had reasons for supporting the war in Iraq, I'd respect that even if I disagreed with you. But I don't think you've thought this through. Supporting someone politically because your friends support them politically – well. That's not a really good reason to support them."

Robin shrugged defensively. "Obama isn't even black. He's Muslim."

"What are you talking about? In the first place, Obama's not a Muslim, he's a Baptist or a Methodist or something – I can never tell those Protestant sects apart. In the second, why couldn't he be black and a Muslim? Haven't you ever heard of Malcolm X?"

"Yeah, but – " Robin stopped.

Max hooted with laughter. "He thinks Muslim is a race."

Robin blushed. Robin does not blush easily.

Way to make Robin a Republican for life, Max! I thought. But all I said was: "My, aren't these onion rings delicious?"

###

In other news, yesterday was the worst Friday the Little Store had had since January. People are just not spending money. Or at least – they're not spending money in my store. All the other stores were customerless too although there were some people in the restaurants – ya can't eat $4.50/gallon gas, after all.

I'm not really sure what to do at this point.

I'm cranking out a ton of work for Gatsby and JDK and trying to ignore the Little Store as much as possible. My problem child. Is there such a thing as retail rehab?