Posted by Frank M. on November 05, 1998 at 23:35:15:
This is a story about my beloved mother, Iris Arreche Vda. de Maddlone.
NOTE: The anecdote you are about to read is true. The puns, jabs and humorous observations were cleared by the folks at FEO (Family Entertainment Organization) - a dubiously profitable entity dedicated to exposing the funnier side of a family’s humanity (I think their motto is: Ah, ya veo - eso es FEO). Anyway, Iris (a.k.a. Titi Iris, Mami, Sñra. Maddlone, Esa Mujer de Bayamón) never tired of my endless attempts at humor at her expense. I hope that, in her honor, you’ll have a few chuckles with me. After all, laughter gives rise to the wings of angels...
My mother was a person who possessed a boundless amount of energy. I used to comment to my sister (you know, Ginger, a.k.a. “esa mujer de California”) that, if Mom would have channeled her energies into something like politics, she would have become the first female President (the line for Canadian visas forms to the left, please). Where did she get if from, you ask? Why, from those die-hard Arreche genes (or, as Mami would have said: “Ah-rrre-cheh gens”).
Bueno; Mami would start out her day in the usual way: Got up at the crack of dawn, made 2-3 gallons of freshly-squeezed orange juice (of course, she bought the oranges at 100 for $1.00!!), washed dishes, ironed clothes, made breakfast, got my sister and I out of bed (while giving each of us a sermon about something or other that we hadn’t done right), killed a few Martians.....you get the picture. Pure energy. But one day, on a weekend, we discovered the source of her powers......
Coffee? No.
Exercise? I don’t think so.
Drugs? Ay, no seas necio!
It was - La Faja.
La Faja, for all you mono-lingual members out there (ay, que es eso...mono-lingual? Ay, bendito; esas cosas no se hacen con los monos! Si tu padre estuviera vivo....!) Sorry - Mami’s voice keeps interrupting.... :)
La Faja is a girdle. A plain, ‘ol run-of-the-mill, Lycra, “Honey, you look so thin!” girdle. One fine Saturday morning, my sister and I got up early (that usually happened when I was plotting some scheme to hassle Ginger, and she was up even earlier to diffuse whatever I had set-up.......except for THAT radio alarm...he, he, he.....), and we found Mami coming out of her inner sanctum (i.e. bedroom). Her hair was standing almost straight up on one side - I named it Gumby Hair, ‘cause her hair could be made to stay in whatever position it was placed - stubborn hair, stubborn genes... She was moving at a snail’s pace; one hand on her hip, while the other made a vain attempt to bring about some order to the hairdo. She had her robe on, slippers, and was squinting to the point where she could barely see. She saw us at the end of the hall and muttered something in Spanish (or was it geringonza?), then slipped into the bathroom (second inner sanctum). Thirty minutes later - voila! Out comes the new and improved, energized Mami! She rushes by us (yeah, while making “the” comments), flying through the normal chores PLUS the ones reserved for the weekend (i.e. cleaning everything in sight with Pine-Sol!) - all without skipping a beat! Whoa! What happened here?!? Whatever it was, the evidence still had to be around somewhere! I ran into the second inner sanctum (bathroom) to see if I could discover any clues that would reveal the source of this magical transformation. The only things missing were “la faja“ and “el brassiere” (THAT one is a story - a BIG story - all of its own!) Well, I could only deduce that there was something about the compression of flesh that caused energy to flow at a faster rate. Great; how can I confirm this? I wasn’t about to bring THAT one up in science class! Hmmm. I COULD ask Mami, but her reply to any question re. anatomical references was “esas cosas no son para niños”. Maybe Ginger knew, but she didn’t have enough flesh to squeeze for THAT kind of energy boost! Rats. No evidence; no answers; no newly-discovered energy source (Faja-Fusion?) So for years, the mystery of La Faja prevailed. It became almost mythical in nature. Like a shaman from some South American or Aborigine tribe, I started to ritualize the whole Faja Conversion thing. People/family would come over; they’d do the eat-until-you-explode routine, talk about anyone who wasn’t present, and lamented about how the world was going to hell on a runaway train. Afterwards, Mami would bring everyone into the living room for the main event: I’d come walking out of the bedroom area, wearing her robe, hair all spiked up, hunched over, squinting while looking to and fro (I borrowed the look from Mr. Magoo) - all the while moving unbearably slow. I’d do the mumbling thing then, without warning, I’d slip into a doorway - whip off the robe (I was fully dressed underneath), and pounced back out into the room. Standing there with my hands on my waist, I’d yell out, “Look at me! I’m full of energy! I’m going to clean the entire house in 10 minutes, then go to San Juan for some shopping! Get out of my way, you peons! Here comes Super-Mami!” The finale was me, running out of the room, grabbing a broom and sweeping anything in sight. To say the least, Mami would be laughing to the point of tears. Others would join in with the fun, while a few thought that this little child should be committed (wise choice!) Sure; it was silly. No doubt that (in retrospect) it was on the better side of strange. All in all, I really didn’t care how “La Faja” did its thing. I just loved the opportunity to make Mami laugh - really laugh.