Criminal - A Smooth One

The crazy kids in the LBC (see below) tasked us with the job of writing something brilliant for the topic "Criminal." It turns out that much like I can't hear the word "chaotic" and not think of Brittany Spears, I can't hear the word "criminal" and not think of Michael Jackson, followed by a brief synapse blast to the Alien Ant Farm file in my brain, and then back to the king of pop. It always goes in that order: Jackson, Ant Farm, Jackson. And then if I allow myself more than a second of associations, my mind goes here:

My cousin, Krisiti, was a cheerleader in high school. (Sorry, rough segue I know, but it will all become clear soon). Actually, she was a cheerleader and homecoming queen and competed in various team sports and creative problem solving competitions, and I'm 97% certain she actually hung the moon. Next to her, I was some Virginia Wolf character, all plain and mousy, who was made fun of for committing unpopular crimes such as playing with dolls until I was 13 and caring about Olympic figure skating. I say that in jest, with only a tweak of resentment, knowing now that my personality was simply shy in comparison to hers. The point is, I adored Krisiti in the same way that Robin adored Batman. Kristi was my hero. I wanted to be like her. So when we went to visit her in Small Town, Texas I spent much of my waking moments with her, and she was sweet enough to include me, her younger, reclusive cousin.

In small town, Texas, one spends her free time in one of three ways:
1.Makin' the drag - (driving from one end of town to the other and back (usually a distance of about two miles), stopping for a "town coke" (a soda with ice and a straw) and conversation at the drive-in)
2. Drinkin' (alcohol in copious amounts)*
3. Knockin' boots (also in copious amounts)**

Because, as I've said, I was of a more meek stock than many of my teenage counterparts, Kristi and I spent a lot of time makin' the drag. We'd buy vanilla cokes and ride around town sipping them and talking about Kristi's fabulous life. I seem to remember doing this while listening to "Smooth Criminal", Michael Jackson's version. It was sort of a sound track to that time in my life. I remember those times fondly in sepia tones.

I wish I could flesh out some more detail regarding these memories, but the truth is I'm not sure there is a whole lot more to them. They weren't earth shattering, nor are they particularly mention-worthy.

So that's it.

That's what my brain does when someone says the word, "criminal".

*addendum - shooting guns is also popular, tied in popularity with drinking alcohol
**clarification - for those of you are not familiar with US idioms, this means having sex and is usually followed by someone winking, and saying "Aw yeah."

This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (Crime or Criminal, this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.