i'll think of you when pop songs come on the radio
a collection of short stories, false recollections, and nothinglessness

Band Aid
Once, I was watching TV, and this show was on called “Clean House.” If I recall correctly, the show was a reality TV show about people who had really dirty homes. You could have your home cleaned, for free, if you opted to have the before and after shown on public television. So, for this show, there was a family from the mid-west who needed some help with their house. It was a single-really-overweight mom, (maybe 400lbs or so. She had hand dimples and sounded like the mom in “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape”) and her two kids living in a one bed-room apartment. The kids had written their sob-story to the producers of the show asking for their help in making their house livable again-so they could have friends over. It was heart breaking, they just wanted to have their friends over, for god’s sake. The host of the show came over with his video crew for the shame walk, you know, the one where they showed how bad the house actually was, and said things like, “how could anyone live like this?” in the face of the single mom and her tears. “I just don’t know how it got this bad,” the single mom cries. Room by room, the family and crew tour the house together. The Host notes that he has no idea what color the carpet is in the living room, perhaps it hasn't been seen in years the mom admits. They find their way to the bathroom. Inside, hidden under the sink, tightly holding onto the wall for dear life, are a collection of Band-Aids from all the kid’s falls. Each one with it’s original adhesive intact. The bandages are not gridded around the faded pink linoleum tile. But they do have a pattern. They are arranged by event, accident, or perhaps by age or kid. Few touch each other, most are the color of white peoples skin, some have drawings on them, most are soiled around the edges. The host points down to the collection, in all it’s glory, and states, “those will have to go.” I watch as the mom on TV pulls each bandage from the wall in tears. Between breaths, she tells the story of how each Band-Aid found it’s way to the bathroom wall.