Caucasion Trash Rememberance #45

When I was growing up, I remember a few things about the poor white trash neighborhood I grew up in.

Next door to us, one day while I was outside, I saw a little baby, in diapers, rummaging through the garbage can that had been knocked over, and upon finding a watermelon rind with a little of the red fruit left on it, began chowing down. He seemed quite nonchalant about the whole thing. Even though I was really young, it was at that point I thought, we live in a poor neighborhood.

Later some new people moved into that house and little watermelon trash baby was gone. It was a Mexican family, and this one guy from time to time would ask me and my brother in a Speedy Gonzales voice, "Hey, is your Daddy a preacher? He got the little dog in the back of his car with the little head that goes up and down? Is your Daddy a preacher?"

I never knew what the hell he meant or why he asked. Though, my brother and I would perfect imitating his accent and ask ourselves this same question from time to time: "Your daddy a preacher??"