human beings. I’m going to assume it
was around the time of their divorce,
when Mom had all four of us mostly to
herself, either in, or hovering around,
high school, and phone rules got
bulldozed in her switch to combat mode.
The demand for manners in general,
however, was left firmly standing, and
no matter how wild and wasted we got,
we always remained those polite
Sincero kids: “Can I help you Officer?
Thank you, Officer. Yes, sir, that is my
marijuana.” Not only are the words
“please” and “thank you” ingrained in
me like the recipe for my Italian father’s
red sauce or the knowledge that it’s not
cool to kill people, but being polite just