my other sister, Marcie was also very very good to me. She was 14 years older than me, and thought of me as a very cool baby doll, i think. For years i thought The Ballard of Curtis Lowe was a lullaby. And, it was Marcie that bought me the big wheel.It was yellow and black, and i could fly on it. Marcie had a yellow camero, so i called my yellow big wheel a yellow camero. During the summer Marcie often came down on Sundays. We would park our yellow cameros side by side out in Granny's yard and haul out the water hoses, scrub brushes and buckets of cold soapy water. Then we would commence to wash our "babies." i took my big wheel washing as seriously as she took her car washing. Which was not that seriously.By the time we were done we'd both be covered in soap and water and splashes of mud. i would giggle enough to make up for days of no laughter, and she'd pick me up and spin me around in the air. No Sunday was complete without a change into PJ's for us both and then we'd drive to Hardees for hamburgers with lettuce and mayo. Since i often didn't get fed without "earning it" this abundance of food was an absolute delight.She told me she loved me, every time she saw me. And, many Sundays we would cruise around in her freshly washed car and i would eat as she waved at friends and sang along to the radio. In my eyes Marcie was the essence of all that was cool. Thinking back on "Mama Marcie" as i called her, always makes me feel special and loved. Like the coolest little kid in all the world. Just like she always told me i was.
