Get your apology ready now: Time to talk moms of the '80s
It was the most humiliating phone call of my life. Okay, the last 10 days of my life. (Okay, the last 10 hours). And it happened in front of all my co-workers on Wednesday in the Stuck in the '80s newsroom:
Spearsy: Hey, mom, it's Steve.
Spearsy: Steve! Your son! I'm calling from work.
Mom: Oh, okay. Is something wrong?
Spearsy: No, not really. Okay, well, maybe. So there's a story in the paper on Thursday about Mother's Day, and I name you and I compare you to a fictional mom of the '80s.
Mom: My name in the paper? Wow. ... Which movie?
Spearsy: Did you ever see Terms of Endearment?
Mom: I think so.
Spearsy: Do you remember the character Aurora Greenway?
Mom: No, not really.
So let's just say that, hypothetically, I compared my mother to Shirley MacLaine. Stern? Yes. Psychotic? Nothing that a licensed doctor ever proved. Some would could Aurora "suffocating." I prefer the term "nurturing." Suffice to say it was all for the laughs. My mom never yelled "Give my son the shoooooot!" (Oh, best ... scene ... ever.) Otherwise, it's a dead-on match.
This week on Stuck in the '80s, we honor the good -- and bad -- moms of the '80s. Just the fictional ones. I swear I'll stop bringing up the fact that Momma Spears wouldn't let me see Duran Duran back in 1984, something that remains stuck like a splinter in my brain to this day. (All because my girlfriend Alisa was a dirty, dirty girl who smoked cigarettes and did so much worse in the backseat of my '82 Mustang.)
The podcast about moms in the '80s is less stressful. Thankfully, I deflect the pressure upon my co-hosts. I don't want to ruin any more surprises. So just click here to listen to the show. Or click here to get all our podcasts for free on iTunes.
In the meantime, anyone know a good florist?