I wrote a Facebook entry today to my cousin Maxine reminding her of the time that she and I were sitting on the beach at Eldorado Beach Club when I called her attention to Morris Levy’s balls sticking out of the side of his bathing suit.
Now why did I remember that?
Maybe it’s her daughter Tracy. Sometimes I look at Tracy’s website just so I can admire her paintings. I was doing that today and so it’s likely that that made me think about her mother.
When I think of Maxine, it’s always with her laughing. She’s an easy laugher. I don’t see her and her sister Barbara very often but whenever I do I feel such a rush of love for both of them.
It has to be Maxine that brought this long forgotten memory to mind because it simply couldn’t be Morris Levy. He was a friend of our parents who, let’s be honest didn’t wear his bathing suit or his age well.
It wasn’t like seeing Tom Cruise’s balls. No sirree.
Now that I think of it, I was pretty young and I come from a family of all girls and a modest father so it’s entirely possible that since my slut years didn’t start till much later, Morris’s balls might have been the first balls I every saw.
Hmm now that’s an unfortunate blip in the Mattie Joan Smith timeline. What started as a fond cousin memory has ended with me having a severe case of the icks.
These sexual memories persist. It’s one of the reasons I tried to protect my kids from premature sexualization.
And how did we get on this subject? Oh right, nothing you’ve never seen before.
Hey! Congratulations! This your 250th entry! I’m sure Morris Levy was a wonderful man.
Yep. A real brick
They ought to name a sandwich after Morris Levy. I like the sound of that. Hold the onions.
Meatball Parm (ROFL)