Purple Shorts and the Right Shoes

This from my friend Mark...

My mother grew up in Chicago and she travelled infrequently. She never left the country, and after a move to Arizona, rarely left the state. So she really didn't know how a place like New York City worked. It was 1989, and the City was still pretty grungy, so she had a few worries when I announced I was moving there to go to school.

Her first concern was that I should not embarrass her, in any way: "I don't want to see you on TV wearing purple shorts!"

This also points to some weird mom instinct: Though I did not own purple shorts, I still had not come out of the closet. So perhaps she sensed I might be inclined to own shorts that were purple.

But when the move was finally imminent – I was leaving the next week – she finally broke down completely.

"You can't go!" she declared.

"Why?"

"Because you're not prepared!"

"I am prepared," I said. "I have everything in order."

"You don't! You're not prepared!" she insisted. "You don't have the right shoes!"

Top that mom.