Whenever I think of writing this series of chapters I feel guilty for not feeling guilty....Is that wrong...?
My Mother.....everytime I say those 2 words I cue Rodney Dangerfield in my head....oh well...my Mother...as a teenager, my mother was infamous...in fact she remains infamous...all that has changed is I am no longer a teenager...but I digress.......my Mother...she had the hairy eyeball, the evil eye ....she said the most shocking things just to let you know she was on to you......none of this really surprised me.....our family crest features an Eagle with a baby in its talons with a Latin script beneath that translates into " We eat our own".....
As I grow to be a parent myself to 2 teenage daughters I have come to understand the complex and challenging realtionships we have with our kids...I also understand I am not in the driver seat anymore...I am more like a tour guide on a runaway bus.....oh well...more on that later...
Back to the story at hand....
I was 19 years old and still living at home.....I had graduated from high school and was doing what all teenage boys do...chasing girls, working part-time and driving a shitty car......as a side note it is arguable that the 1972 Ford Cortina was perhaps the shittiest car ever made....The English make terrible cars as a rule but this was their nadir of nastiness....a piesta du la crappe..!
But I digress......shitty car aside I was a good kid...not a great kid, not a bad kid...just a kid....
It was, as I recall, a Monday afternoon......about 2 PM...I was in my basement bedroom...stereo blaring...Springsteen I suspect....my mother was upstairs and my father was at work.......I was preparing for a difficult night delivering pizzas...ok...perhaps delivering pizzas in Victoria is not a life threatening occupation but ...ok...carrying on....
A knock came upon my bedroom door.......I opened to find my mother.....2 hard plastic, red in colour, empty suitacses, 1 in each hand.....
" Time for you to go.." she said.....
"huh?".....Morning mom..." I said
Again she stated..."I said...its time for you to go....I have spoken with your father and he agrees with me..its time for you to move out...here, take these"
Silence....
I knew she was serious....when you live with a loon you come to realize that tone of voice, that look that says....don't even think about asking me to change my mind......my mother would have made a good Nazi...
My lame protestation would do no good but try I must...." When...?" I said...
"Now..." with this she turned and went back upstairs...
I picked up the empty suitacases and laid them on the bed.....I was not entirely sure what I should do......I only knew there was no way to change her mind.....
I opened the cheap hard plastic cases.....I began to toss the essentials into the cases....albums, underwear, shirts, jeans, hash pipe, guitar cords, socks......surely she would let me come back for the rest I thought...or perhaps this is a sinking ship excersize...take whats most important because it won't be here after you leave....there was scorched earth policy to my Mothers child rearing habits.......I became more careful as to what I chose to pack...
razor, shampoo, food, food!!...shit......I know...I will raid the freezer downstairs......I then began to pack roasts, steaks and frozen chickens....
There was no sounds from upstairs aside from the general noises found in any kitchen....would she cry...? Would she change her mind and recant...? .....I packed faster packing more frozen food.....
Soon the cases were full.......I put them back on the floor and took one long last look at my room.....lots of stuff left....would I ever see it again.....I did not know.....
I left the cases and went up stairs to say goodbye.......I think I was in shock......
"Well" I said..."its been fun"........hmmm..what does one say to their mom when leaving and there is no emotional attachment?...."its been fun" just seemed to fit....
"I'll come down and see you out" she said.....I had the feeling like I was a servant from Victorian times and the master of the house was coming to make sure I had not absconded with the silverware....
We stood at the entrance to my old bedroom....I was staring at the suitcases as I did not where else to focus my attention....My mother scannned the room...."hmmmmm" she said..."This will make for a great sewing room..!"
She then focused her gaze upon the hard plastic suitcases.....the larger of the 2 looked like it had been out in the rain......it had a dewy sheen to it....it was covered in condensation.....shit....the frozen meat was causing it to sweat....
"What have we here...?" she said....opening up the dew laden suitcase.....the first frozen roast....(I think it was Pork..) rolled onto the floor....it wobbled to a stop.....
She glared at me...."Why are you taking the food?"
Hmmmm...I thought this would be self evident even to her, but apparently not......I had watched several National Geographic specials with her about the great polar explorers Amundsen and Perry and they had all packed food for their journey into the unknown....
" I thought it would be ok...?" I said......
"Well you thought wrong...put them back..." with that she turned on her heel and went back upstairs....
I did as I was instructed....I replaced the frozen booty with more socks and underwear....can never have too many of those.....
I also threw in a hammer and a pair of pliers just in case....its a guy thing I guess...
I picked up the cases and went out to the Cortina...it sputterd and gasped to life....the oil light coming on as per usual and the radio brilliantly picking up crackling static and white noise....
I pulled out onto the road and headed into the city...where to go, where to go.....damn...none of my friends had places of their own and their parents certainly did not want another teenager moving in......shit....where to go, where to go....
"Aha!!...I know"...3 nights earlier I had meet a girl at the bar...I was in the band and she had spent the night standing close to the stage....I had spent the night at her apartment......I'll go there.....I thought..
I headed to where she lived.....what would I say to convince her to let me move in.....my parents had been killed in a fiery crash and grief stricken I could not bear to live in the family home......? ......my household had become infected with Ebola yet I had escaped unharmed and needed a place to stay...?
.......as I walked up to her door...I still did not have a plausible excuse for my request......It was getting dark and a chill was in the air......I knocked...
She answered the door...."Hi" she chirped in a not unpleasant way...."I was hoping you would call..."
...."Hey..." I said back...."Listen....I don't have a lot of time and there is no simple way to say this...., I have been kicked out of my house and I have no where to live....can I move in with you....?"
She squealed with delight...." Of course.." she said....."C'mon in...."....I lived with her for 3 years.......I still have the suitcases somewhere....
My Mother.....everytime I say those 2 words I cue Rodney Dangerfield in my head....oh well...my Mother...as a teenager, my mother was infamous...in fact she remains infamous...all that has changed is I am no longer a teenager...but I digress.......my Mother...she had the hairy eyeball, the evil eye ....she said the most shocking things just to let you know she was on to you......none of this really surprised me.....our family crest features an Eagle with a baby in its talons with a Latin script beneath that translates into " We eat our own".....
As I grow to be a parent myself to 2 teenage daughters I have come to understand the complex and challenging realtionships we have with our kids...I also understand I am not in the driver seat anymore...I am more like a tour guide on a runaway bus.....oh well...more on that later...
Back to the story at hand....
I was 19 years old and still living at home.....I had graduated from high school and was doing what all teenage boys do...chasing girls, working part-time and driving a shitty car......as a side note it is arguable that the 1972 Ford Cortina was perhaps the shittiest car ever made....The English make terrible cars as a rule but this was their nadir of nastiness....a piesta du la crappe..!
But I digress......shitty car aside I was a good kid...not a great kid, not a bad kid...just a kid....
It was, as I recall, a Monday afternoon......about 2 PM...I was in my basement bedroom...stereo blaring...Springsteen I suspect....my mother was upstairs and my father was at work.......I was preparing for a difficult night delivering pizzas...ok...perhaps delivering pizzas in Victoria is not a life threatening occupation but ...ok...carrying on....
A knock came upon my bedroom door.......I opened to find my mother.....2 hard plastic, red in colour, empty suitacses, 1 in each hand.....
" Time for you to go.." she said.....
"huh?".....Morning mom..." I said
Again she stated..."I said...its time for you to go....I have spoken with your father and he agrees with me..its time for you to move out...here, take these"
Silence....
I knew she was serious....when you live with a loon you come to realize that tone of voice, that look that says....don't even think about asking me to change my mind......my mother would have made a good Nazi...
My lame protestation would do no good but try I must...." When...?" I said...
"Now..." with this she turned and went back upstairs...
I picked up the empty suitacases and laid them on the bed.....I was not entirely sure what I should do......I only knew there was no way to change her mind.....
I opened the cheap hard plastic cases.....I began to toss the essentials into the cases....albums, underwear, shirts, jeans, hash pipe, guitar cords, socks......surely she would let me come back for the rest I thought...or perhaps this is a sinking ship excersize...take whats most important because it won't be here after you leave....there was scorched earth policy to my Mothers child rearing habits.......I became more careful as to what I chose to pack...
razor, shampoo, food, food!!...shit......I know...I will raid the freezer downstairs......I then began to pack roasts, steaks and frozen chickens....
There was no sounds from upstairs aside from the general noises found in any kitchen....would she cry...? Would she change her mind and recant...? .....I packed faster packing more frozen food.....
Soon the cases were full.......I put them back on the floor and took one long last look at my room.....lots of stuff left....would I ever see it again.....I did not know.....
I left the cases and went up stairs to say goodbye.......I think I was in shock......
"Well" I said..."its been fun"........hmmm..what does one say to their mom when leaving and there is no emotional attachment?...."its been fun" just seemed to fit....
"I'll come down and see you out" she said.....I had the feeling like I was a servant from Victorian times and the master of the house was coming to make sure I had not absconded with the silverware....
We stood at the entrance to my old bedroom....I was staring at the suitcases as I did not where else to focus my attention....My mother scannned the room...."hmmmmm" she said..."This will make for a great sewing room..!"
She then focused her gaze upon the hard plastic suitcases.....the larger of the 2 looked like it had been out in the rain......it had a dewy sheen to it....it was covered in condensation.....shit....the frozen meat was causing it to sweat....
"What have we here...?" she said....opening up the dew laden suitcase.....the first frozen roast....(I think it was Pork..) rolled onto the floor....it wobbled to a stop.....
She glared at me...."Why are you taking the food?"
Hmmmm...I thought this would be self evident even to her, but apparently not......I had watched several National Geographic specials with her about the great polar explorers Amundsen and Perry and they had all packed food for their journey into the unknown....
" I thought it would be ok...?" I said......
"Well you thought wrong...put them back..." with that she turned on her heel and went back upstairs....
I did as I was instructed....I replaced the frozen booty with more socks and underwear....can never have too many of those.....
I also threw in a hammer and a pair of pliers just in case....its a guy thing I guess...
I picked up the cases and went out to the Cortina...it sputterd and gasped to life....the oil light coming on as per usual and the radio brilliantly picking up crackling static and white noise....
I pulled out onto the road and headed into the city...where to go, where to go.....damn...none of my friends had places of their own and their parents certainly did not want another teenager moving in......shit....where to go, where to go....
"Aha!!...I know"...3 nights earlier I had meet a girl at the bar...I was in the band and she had spent the night standing close to the stage....I had spent the night at her apartment......I'll go there.....I thought..
I headed to where she lived.....what would I say to convince her to let me move in.....my parents had been killed in a fiery crash and grief stricken I could not bear to live in the family home......? ......my household had become infected with Ebola yet I had escaped unharmed and needed a place to stay...?
.......as I walked up to her door...I still did not have a plausible excuse for my request......It was getting dark and a chill was in the air......I knocked...
She answered the door...."Hi" she chirped in a not unpleasant way...."I was hoping you would call..."
...."Hey..." I said back...."Listen....I don't have a lot of time and there is no simple way to say this...., I have been kicked out of my house and I have no where to live....can I move in with you....?"
She squealed with delight...." Of course.." she said....."C'mon in...."....I lived with her for 3 years.......I still have the suitcases somewhere....
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