Living in the hood you have to get use to the fact that life is different than that of your native environment, but every now and then something catches you of guard.
Every 6 weeks or so the southing sound of "MOMMY, MOMMY, MOMMY, MOM, MOMMY" fills the air outside my window. Upon further investigation and a sneak peak out the window or over the veranda, the perpetrator is alway the same. A late twenties to early thirties hispanic male of painfully average height and wight, lacking any significant features what so ever. I suppose it is the fact that he is so remarkable unnoticeable that I often forget my twice quarterly serenader is.
Given this day in age I am still taken aback but by the fact that a grown man will stand on the sidewalk for sometimes up an hour screaming for his mother. I often wonder what message must be of such importance that he will shamelessly stand out in the cold like a child lost in the shopping mall desperate to get her attention. If there is this much information of such great importance needling to be conveyed to her; wouldn't a cell phone be a much easer option?
Suppose I will never fully understand the little differences between myself and the natives, but if nothing else, I suppose it will continue to provide for entertainment value if nothing else.
