The stories I tell...
I'm not the best story teller but there are like 3 stories that end up repeating... The first is because it happened when I was a kid, and as a kid you don't have a lot of interesting stories; the second likewise amused me for a few years and the third while still about a decade old I end up repeating to mention my animosity between me and my dad. I figure since I've shared these with most who'll listen( my brother really got tired of the first story) I'd share them with y'all.
My first story: The year was 1975. I was 8 years old. As I've mentioned before- I grew up in NYC... well for the summer, IF you/your family has money you summer in the Hamptons. My parents had a house in the Hamptons BEFORE their divorce and ended up selling it in about '71... However my mother still rented places in the Hamptons slash still had friends up there. Jaws had just come out.... My older brother wanted to see it, my mother didn't, and I was still of the age where I sorta wanted to tag along with my brother. My older brother talked my mom into leaving us at the theater and seeing it ALL BY OURSELVES. It was pretty scary... I think more scary because it was more about suspense( not seeing Bruce) then horror by having a large body count. I wound up 'going to the bathroom' at the key scenes. I liked the movie but I did find it scary.
So after the movie we go to the house of one my mom's cousin... her daughter was a teenager who had seen jaws like 8 times- the daughter invited me and my brother to go rowing with her.... in a WOODEN rowboat. My older brother wasn't having any of that. I decided that I had to step up to the plate, to prove that *I* wasn't a scared little kid, never mind the fact that as mentioned I was hiding my face from the scary bits of the movie. I went out in the wood rowboat... and my brother being a wiseguy stayed on shore and sung the jaws theme song.
I think he got tired of this story not only because I told it a lot but because he was the 'bad guy' of it.
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My second story is the reason I'm posting this... I was talking to my sis and even though she was there for it she didn't remember it. It was on thanksgiving while I was in college. I brought a friend with me because his family lived in Ca. and he wasn't going home for the holidays so I thought I'd bring him down with me so I'd have someone to pal around with. My mother perhaps had a bit too much to drink and declares that ALL the men she loves are left handed. I blink... and look around the table... her father left handed- check. My brother- right handed, she doesn't love him? me... right handed. Her second husband... who she was married to at the time- also a right handed. My father, her first husband,- who wasn't there- left handed... and my friend- my friend was left handed. I turn to him and asked him what was up with my mom loving him more then me???!!!??
It just was a really stupid faux pas, as only two men in her life were left handed... but I'll always remember it because of the fact that my friend, Mike, was there and left handed.
Basically I was talking to my sis... and told her I was talking to Mike, whom she might remember because my mom liked him more then me... and she had forgotten this story. I mean it might be a throw off story but it still brings a smile to me when I think about it.
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The third requires a bit of background. My paternal grandfather died in open heart surgery when he was in his 50's and my father was a teenager. About a year latter his mother died... as a kid I was told she had wasted away, as an adult I found out it was a drug overdose which didn't happen all that often in those days. So my father was morbidly obsessed with death. He often told me that he was not long for this world- also mentioning on other occasions that he wanted his plug pulled and that if he got alheimezer to put him in a home.
I don't remember the straw that broke the camel's back but in the early 90's after hearing that he only had a few years for what I felt was the 10,000th time- I told him... Hey you're not your dad. You're in better shape then I am... You run every day. You take care of yourself. Unless you're not telling me about something, you're healthy... and odds are you'll outlive me.
My father retorted that I was evil.
I hung up on him. I couldn't believe that he called *ME* evil. I tried as a kid to be a nice kind boy and here my dad was calling me evil. This was the first time I hung up on him, but not the last...
I also will admit after the call I got a bit petty. My father had given me an 'emergency' credit card. I felt if he was gonna call me evil... well what would be more evil then using the card. Now if I was REALLY evil, I would've seen what the limit to the card was( which prolly was pretty high as it was linked to his) but as it was I bought some comics... maybe a box of trading cards and a meal for Mike and I. Mike tried to get me to buy 'extras' so that we could bring food home with us... I felt I didn't want to push it. I just wanted to rack up some charges as if to say f you to my dad.
It should also be mentioned that I talked to my mom about this and she claimed that my dad mentioned AS HE WAS LEAVING HER that he had only a few years left to live and he wanted to be happy in those years... and he left her OVER 30 years ago. ;-)
The ps to this story is that I often think that perhaps mine and my dad's relationship would've been better if he had had an adult relationship with his dad- i.e. my dad never had to deal with defining himself to his parents as an adult/ equal.
My first story: The year was 1975. I was 8 years old. As I've mentioned before- I grew up in NYC... well for the summer, IF you/your family has money you summer in the Hamptons. My parents had a house in the Hamptons BEFORE their divorce and ended up selling it in about '71... However my mother still rented places in the Hamptons slash still had friends up there. Jaws had just come out.... My older brother wanted to see it, my mother didn't, and I was still of the age where I sorta wanted to tag along with my brother. My older brother talked my mom into leaving us at the theater and seeing it ALL BY OURSELVES. It was pretty scary... I think more scary because it was more about suspense( not seeing Bruce) then horror by having a large body count. I wound up 'going to the bathroom' at the key scenes. I liked the movie but I did find it scary.
So after the movie we go to the house of one my mom's cousin... her daughter was a teenager who had seen jaws like 8 times- the daughter invited me and my brother to go rowing with her.... in a WOODEN rowboat. My older brother wasn't having any of that. I decided that I had to step up to the plate, to prove that *I* wasn't a scared little kid, never mind the fact that as mentioned I was hiding my face from the scary bits of the movie. I went out in the wood rowboat... and my brother being a wiseguy stayed on shore and sung the jaws theme song.
I think he got tired of this story not only because I told it a lot but because he was the 'bad guy' of it.
============
My second story is the reason I'm posting this... I was talking to my sis and even though she was there for it she didn't remember it. It was on thanksgiving while I was in college. I brought a friend with me because his family lived in Ca. and he wasn't going home for the holidays so I thought I'd bring him down with me so I'd have someone to pal around with. My mother perhaps had a bit too much to drink and declares that ALL the men she loves are left handed. I blink... and look around the table... her father left handed- check. My brother- right handed, she doesn't love him? me... right handed. Her second husband... who she was married to at the time- also a right handed. My father, her first husband,- who wasn't there- left handed... and my friend- my friend was left handed. I turn to him and asked him what was up with my mom loving him more then me???!!!??
It just was a really stupid faux pas, as only two men in her life were left handed... but I'll always remember it because of the fact that my friend, Mike, was there and left handed.
Basically I was talking to my sis... and told her I was talking to Mike, whom she might remember because my mom liked him more then me... and she had forgotten this story. I mean it might be a throw off story but it still brings a smile to me when I think about it.
=====================
The third requires a bit of background. My paternal grandfather died in open heart surgery when he was in his 50's and my father was a teenager. About a year latter his mother died... as a kid I was told she had wasted away, as an adult I found out it was a drug overdose which didn't happen all that often in those days. So my father was morbidly obsessed with death. He often told me that he was not long for this world- also mentioning on other occasions that he wanted his plug pulled and that if he got alheimezer to put him in a home.
I don't remember the straw that broke the camel's back but in the early 90's after hearing that he only had a few years for what I felt was the 10,000th time- I told him... Hey you're not your dad. You're in better shape then I am... You run every day. You take care of yourself. Unless you're not telling me about something, you're healthy... and odds are you'll outlive me.
My father retorted that I was evil.
I hung up on him. I couldn't believe that he called *ME* evil. I tried as a kid to be a nice kind boy and here my dad was calling me evil. This was the first time I hung up on him, but not the last...
I also will admit after the call I got a bit petty. My father had given me an 'emergency' credit card. I felt if he was gonna call me evil... well what would be more evil then using the card. Now if I was REALLY evil, I would've seen what the limit to the card was( which prolly was pretty high as it was linked to his) but as it was I bought some comics... maybe a box of trading cards and a meal for Mike and I. Mike tried to get me to buy 'extras' so that we could bring food home with us... I felt I didn't want to push it. I just wanted to rack up some charges as if to say f you to my dad.
It should also be mentioned that I talked to my mom about this and she claimed that my dad mentioned AS HE WAS LEAVING HER that he had only a few years left to live and he wanted to be happy in those years... and he left her OVER 30 years ago. ;-)
The ps to this story is that I often think that perhaps mine and my dad's relationship would've been better if he had had an adult relationship with his dad- i.e. my dad never had to deal with defining himself to his parents as an adult/ equal.
1 Comments:
At 4/14/2005 02:08:00 AM,
Anonymous said…
I really enjoyed your triple tales, storyteller-luffed the jaws one, wish I coudl have seen that on the big screen, how awesome would that be-one of my fave movies ever!!
the second one sounds like a screenplay for a wonderfully snarky holiday flick-but the third, so way real life-I get ya;-)
- carolyn
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