Airtime
Airtime By Rosie The opening credits roll by and my mother appears on the screen. She's wearing a shiny, lime green jacket. "Is that satin?" I whisper to my father, not wanting to drown the sound of the television. The seams on it are very stiff, making it look almost as if the shoulders are padded, and although the neckline is quite high, her breast are accentuated by darts that run all the way down until they disappear in a black patent leather waist. Below the waist, the...