My parents were very protective of me and always sought to shape my moral development. Why then were they unphased when Mr. Canseco tried to run his wife over with a car or choke a fan for heckling him? Did they force me to take down his posters or get rid of my Oakland A’s jersey? Nope, they never said a word.
My mother was not so kind when a poster of Kurt Cobain wearing a dress, eyeliner, and nail polish was tacked to my bedroom wall where beloved Jose once lived.
“Take that down, I don’t want you idolizing that drug addict. And why does he have to wear a dress? That’s just weird for sake of being weird.”
Her vitriol only made me love him more and in an instant my moral compass, although battered, was sharper than ever before.
Anyway, sorry I missed your birthday on Thursday, Jose.
