I Want My Mommy!

When I was in Chicago Sunday, I asked me mum if she had any plans for this coming Sunday. "Mom, are you gonna be around next Sunday?

"Yes, I have no plans."

"Well, I'm gonna be in town for a show at 3:30 so perhaps we could have brunch beforehand."

"Sure. What show are you going to see?"

"It's at the Victory Garden Theater and features a bunch of naked people dancing while images are projected onto them. It's high art."

"Good. I'll go with you."

OK, where is my mother? Back when I knew her, she was this mild-mannered, conservative kinda gal. Had I told her just a few years ago that I was going to see The Living Canvas, she would have rolled her eyes and said, "Do what you want to do". But now she is actually going. And she came with me to see the in-store performance of Marillion. This is not my mother - she is a body snatcher, a simulacrum grown in a giant pea pod sent to flummox me.