Posted by Reek at nas-242-60.seattle.navipath.net on September 05, 2000 at 01:34:47:
Since the last board was just killed on me...here is my reply
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See, that is all a deeply calculated subconscious thing in those 12 posts. So you like gotta go back and look at the origin of Brandon (yeah, we are close like that) to see where this all stem's from.
As a child, Brandon had to wear Roo's to school, the really stupid one's with the change zipper/pocket thing on em. Now Brandon, he didnt like that shit at all, he was all like "MAN THESE SHOES SUCK!" But his moms wasnt trying to hear it. She would say "Brandon, shut your mouth! I'm doing the best that I can!"
Being the child he was though, he never could look on his mother with any respect for her slaving away at the local bakery, bringing home scraps of doughnuts and french bread for dinner every night. Top Ramen was a luxury, if you get the picture.
Then one day, when Brando turned 15, he struck out on his own. Got a job as a gopher at a local newspaper in the small town of Maples, Indiana. With such stunning headlines as IT RAINED YESTERDAY and WHOAH NELLY THAT WAS SOME GOOD CHILI, Brandon learned through that job all he would ever need in the world to survive.
Suddenly Brandon was living like a baller! He bought a pair of Fila's from the local Big 5 Sports store. He went out and ate at places like McDonalds and Shari's, things he could never have done before he came into his newfound wealth. This was a time of discovery for Brandon, a time he would look back on years later with the fondest of memories. It was a good time to be alive.
Then one day, almost without warning, Brandon got a call from the town doctor. The words, they almost hit Brandon like a force of nature through the phone. His Mother had cancer. She was dying.
Brandon rushed home, to be with his sick mother. On the greyhound ride home Brandon came to a stunning conclusion, he loved his mother. Not for all the things she tried to give him, not for how hard she worked in her life to give Brandon all she could. No, Brandon loved his mother for everything she would never be able to give him again.
As Brandond arrived home, he found his mother, a shell of what she once was. She lay in bed, pale and grey. Her lips crusted over like the day-old glazed doughnuts she used to bring home when Brandon was a kid. Brandon approached his mother, who lay there dying, and asked her if there was anything he could do to ease her pain.
That night, the last night Brandon and his mother would ever be together, they sang this song. His mothers favorite song, Brandon sang like he never had, as if the Harlem Boys Choir had taken over his being. They sang The Twelve Days of Christmas.
It seemed like hours at the time, but the song ended only too quickly. Upon the final verse, on that 12th day of Christmas, Brandons' mother passed away.
So now you see, that number, sweet sweet 12, it means more to Brandon than perhaps you ever knew. That number, it's the closest thing Brandon has to being with his mother. It's a symbol, a reminder of where he came from, and who he is.
So show some fucking respect why don't ya?
-E