Why my mom is the bomb, yo.

Before I catch up with all the missed time this blog has been clamoring for--don't worry, I have a few very large entries planned in the next two weeks after I recover from this cold--I just thought I'd like to share what I consider to be one of the greatest pictures in Gorman existence.

A few weeks ago, my parents flew to Manhattan to participate in the New York City Marathon and catch about eight plays on the Great White Way. That is no mean feat, but was is far more noteworthy is what happened at San Francisco International before the plane to NYC even took off.

Behold the crazy life that is my mom's:



Yeeeaah, boyeeeeeeeeee!

That is, in fact, a picture of Mama Gorman and none other than Flavor Flav.

Now, the first thing that came to mind when she called me up after the flight and said that she got a picture on her cell phone with the Flavmaster himself was how mom even knew who he was.

Mom: You know, I see him on VH1 and Best Week Ever.
Me: Yeah, but you don't watch Flavor of Love, do you?
Mom: No, but I know you keep talking about it.
Me: Well, yeah, because it's the greatest parody of reality television I've ever seen.
Mom: And wasn't he Public Enemy back in the day with...
Me: Chuck D. Yeah.
Mom: Yeah, "Fight the Power."

I guess my mom was more of a fan of Do The Right Thing than I thought.

Me: Well, how'd you know it was him? I mean, he's just this gangly, ugly black man. I mean, he wasn't wearing...did he wear a clock on the plane ride?
Mom: And a crown.
Me: A crown?
Mom: Yeah, a pointy crown.
Me: Now, I don't know why, but in this day and age of heightened airport security measures, I would just think that a large kitchen wall clock around your neck and a crown would be somehow some kind of security breach?
Mom: Apparently not.

Wooooooooooowwwwww...