The home, according to Jesus, was where the family prayed together and stayed together.In my home, my parents never kissed, and never hugged, much less prayed together. They never even laughed together and they certainly never slept together. Dad usually spent his nights on the couch in the den, or upstairs in the messy screened-in porch, on an old twin bed. In spite of that, my baby brother, Michael Jerome, came into the world, six years after me. It was a very exciting moment, especially when Dad came back late at night from the hospital and announced, "He's a little monkey all right!" My younger sister and I looked at each other with wide, sleepy eyes. Monkey?
As my family grew more confusing, I found solace in our RCA Victor T.V. Although I was only allowed to watch and hour a day, I was still heavily influenced. How I longed to be Mary Stone, whose mother was the calm and perfectly coiffed, Donna Reed. Running a close second, in a choice for a mother was, June Cleaver, so flawless in her shirtwaist dresses and cardigan sweaters.I wished that my father could be the boss of our family, like Robert Young on "Father Knows Best."It would be nice to have a home that was cheerful and have pretty furniture. Why couldn't my mom get up in the morning and fix us breakfast, and be nice? It was my father who would get up with us at times and make runny eggs. I know now, that he did the best that he could. But, back then, it made me sad, because most times, it was just me and my sisters slurping up cereal, as we read the back of the boxes. That wasn't how it was done on T.V. Something, was wrong.
It was a source of embarrassment for me that our family rarely attended church together on Sundays, like the other families. I could tell by the attitude from the nuns, that this, was beginning to set me apart. I suppose, that I liked myself and all of my family, well enough. But, I still longed to be someone different. When I wasn't dreaming of being St. Theresa of Avilla, or a young Jesus, I was dreaming of being the popular, Annette Funnicello, from “The Mickey Mouse Club,” or Sandra Dee, in “Gidget” . . . precious in every way, and loved by Moondoggie.
Fraudulence, and the constant lack of trust in tangible entities was what most threatened my spirit. Home was not a refuge where I could sort things out. The constant tension was like a vice constricting my mind. And, my school was slowly making me feel, made me feel, like the odd duck out. Something had to be done about it all, but just what, I didn't know.
I think the TV was a problem. TV gave us impossible standards to compare ourselves, our families, & our situations to. I think most people felt "the odd duck out", but for all different reasons. I think a lot of people were hiding a lot of stuff, & a lot of people still do!
This is the core, hiding and pretending. But, isn't this what society dictates? It seems that when someone is honest, or open, people try to find a way to change or criticize or fix things according to the mores of the day. Forcing conformity, to which is more or less obligatory; or customary law. Anyway, I feel that T.V. shows back and up to recent years, as recent years, (The Partride family, The Waltons', ad naseum . . . cause some damage. In many ways, the mom and apple pie illusions of post WW ll, laid way for the stirrings of the anti-establishment movement. As you say, many felt the odd duck out. Not a good way to feel, without a fight.
However, I would like to add right here, and put emphasis upon the fact, that most of the families that I came into contact with, were like those T.V. families. They would talk together, and the mother would bake, and smile and say sweet things to her children and wear proper dresses, would never cuss; and parents would kiss and go to church, and, well, you get the picture.
Very interesting! It's amazing what each person remembers from their childhood...have you ever compared views with your siblings? Gosh, it sounds like you were like a beautiful and sensitive 'bird in a cage', trapped by school & church & family ideology and brainwashing. TV was - and still is - a popular mode of escape, looking for anything different, something better. Unfortunately, rarely does reality live up to fantasy.
Wonderful writing, kiddo! Your power of recall is superb!
This is a note from my sister Lonie (Alona) she is two years ounger than me which makes her 32 years old.
Dear Music Diva, I thought I would post this for you as my sister, is not on Myspace, nor any of my other siblings. Here is what she wrote:
*I made it through another chapter of Parochial Days.
Pretty funny, you wrote in comments my sister is reading this very closely. Your writing is very good and entertaining. I have to go back and read the chapters more objectively, cuz at first reading it evokes many memories.
I'll never forget how disappointed I was, when I saw a human baby, I was really excited about having a monkey in the house. Seriously.
Thank- you again, for your compliments. My siblings and I share many of these memories. My one sister is reading this very closely (Hi Loni!) We were all different ages and therefore gauged certain situations differently, but in certain things, we have identical recollect. I reacted in a very singular way, and had a certain personality, where I was effected as my imaginings went deeper. Actually we were only allowed one hour of T.V. per night, as we had homework and chores, and a strict bedtime.
EASY TO BE HARD
Often, there was the question of how, when or where. What matters most is why...
They say there is but five degrees of separation between all of us.
This is my story and observations about growing up under the infamous Hollywood Sign, in the 50's 60' and 70's. This is also a story of my entering the fast lane, and finding that if I wanted to survive, I had to get off it, but... it wasn't that easy.
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