Years ago, a stand-up shirt or jacket collar meant you were cool . . . throw in sunglasses and a motorcycle and you had the complete set. Roberto was an Elvis wanna-be. He wanted to be cool. He wanted people to admire him. He wanted to be a star. He wanted to be looked up to and admired.
The problem was that as he sat at the breakfast table eating toast and jam, he looked at his father and thought “Is that me at the age of forty?” He shivered at the possibility. His dad was bald, short, pudgy . . . and friendly.
His father spoke, “Happy birthday, Max!” Roberto hated the name of Max. “Have I got something for you!” his father said with a happy smile. Max’s mother Angela came dancing in with a box balanced on top of her head. Roberto shuttered in anticipation of the possibilities. He took the box and opened it. It was a set of boxing gloves for two. “I know you want these; you’ve mentioned them enough times.” said his dad.
Roberto was thrilled as soon as he ripped off the ribbons and the wrapping paper. In seconds he had the gloves on and was dancing around the kitchen and into the living room shadow boxing and moving his shoulders back and forth and jabbing like he had seen on TV. His dad was giving him suggestions and showing Roberto how to attack and defend.
Roberto ignored the instructions and simply let his Dad take over. Three quick jabs by his father were a shock and an eye opener . . . or would have been if Max had listened to anything his father had said. His right eye was beginning to close.
For thirty minutes his father gave him guidance and then for twenty minutes more his mother kept changing cold compresses on his growing lumps on his forehead and cheeks. The reddish growing lumps on his chest began to make Roberto’s dreams leave the room and leave the world to Max.
His dad went to Roberto’s room and said, “Why did you leave? We haven’t gotten to the big surprise yet.” Max’s head bent down to this chest and thought, “What’s next a baseball bat to my head?” But, no. The surprise was waiting in the garage.
As he and his father stepped out into the alley, the garage door opened up and his mother zipped into the alley on top of a beginner’s motorcycle. She zipped up and back the alley and then she pulled the front end up and she got the bike to leap along before she and the bike tore off down the alley, again. She came back sliding on the side of the entire bike. She hopped off with a big smile on her face.
Max looked at his mother and father and said, “I’m just not feeling well. Both his mother and father were surprised. His mother said, “Oh, don’t worry, honey it only took about ten minutes for me to learn the details of your new bike.” Both his mother and father left him standing in the middle of the back yard.
While Max pouted over his surprise gifts his parents left to go to church. Max was still just sitting by himself when he saw that he had one more present he hadn’t seen. He was afraid what one more present might do to his ego, but he opened it anyway.
It was a black leather motorcycle jacket and a pair of dark sun glasses, so dark he could hardly see through them. Max looked to the heavens and said, “Thank you, God. Thank you. Who needs a motorcycle when it looks like you already have one . . . somewhere.” The sun glasses were so dark they looked perfect. He put on the jacket, brushed off his clothes put on the cap and the sun glasses, and walked into the door. He shook his head a little bit and looked at himself in the mirror.
Out loud he said to the room, “That little cut above my right eye could be my ticket to Hollywood! Thanks, Mom and Dad.” he said to the room, just as he went out the door to survey his new motorcycle kingdom, complete with beautiful girls, he hoped. Well, he was young.
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