When I was twenty I went to visit friends in Detroit.  I had on faded blue bell bottoms, a cropped tee-shirt, and underwear.  There were motorcycles at their house. One looked exactly like the chopped bike in the movie “Easy Rider”.  We gathered around this motorcycle and stood around with time on our side.

I have had numerous times when people dressed me like I was a Barbie doll.  My hair is unkempt all the time, blonde and straight and flying around in the slightest breeze.  One of my friends decided to add a headband around my hair.  A blanket vest, with fringe, added to the effect. I also had someone’s granny wire rim glasses put on my face and numerous chains and beads. They stuck a cigarette in my mouth and positioned me on the chopped motorcycle.  The end product was photographed.

I joked, “Hope my kids do not find this photo, EVER.”  They handed me the photo and like a fool, I took it. I have raised four children and at times they rifled through photo albums.  They found the photo, years after it was taken, and laughed until they cried.  “That was staged, I said, telling them the details”.

The photo disappeared into their blackmail archives.  They did not believe the photo was staged.  Whenever I questioned them about their attire as teens, out came the photograph of mom the motorcycle “Motorcycle Momma”.

I was right!  The photo did come back to bite me.  I wonder which of the four has it now.