Sunday, March 27, 2016

Resurrection

If you accept the fact that Easter celebrates a man coming back to life you have to wonder why Jesus didn’t get to stick around for a few more days and have one more last supper. You have to wonder why His resurrection didn’t last longer. You have to wonder why it only happened once and just for God’s Son. You have to wonder why the all-generous God we’re taught about doesn’t do it for everyone. 

Johns Street was a holiday destination. The small house was always bursting with people, many of whom would have been alone if not for the warmth of my parents. Ray & Dorothy didn’t have much money but I never remember that being an issue. There was always plenty of food on the table; ham, broccoli, green beans, mashed potatoes, gravy that Mom never taught any of us to make, and the Lazy Susan.

Our table was small. It seated six at the most and with over twenty guests expanding horizontally wasn’t an option. Building vertically was the only choice. Our Lazy Susan was a black rotating dowel with ten golden teeth under which little glass bowls were secured. In those little bowls guests would find various relishes. Over the years Lazy Susan gave us Crab Apples, Pickled Herring, Black Olives, Planters Mixed Nuts and my Grandmother’s homemade Bread and Butter pickles.

I thought it was hilarious that it was called a Lazy Susan, as that is the name of my oldest sister. The name seemed like an indictment. Susan was lazy. HA! Hilarious to a child. As an adult I know she is anything but lazy. She's hardworking.  As a matter of fact, she's missing Easter today because she has to work.

When I was a child I used to worry that my Grandma's homemade pickles meant we were poor. Everyone would rave about her treats and I’d just roll my eyes wondering why we didn’t have ones that were advertised on television. I wanted Vlasic, not a mason jar filled with Emma Fiore’s best. Now every year or two I buy those and wonder why they don’t taste like my Grandma’s. 

I don’t remember guests using the front door. They’d always enter from the side. The door would stick, someone would pull from inside. Whoever was waiting outside would body check the door with one of their hips, unless they were too old to do so. Once inside they were immediately hit with a wall of humidity from the boiling potatoes. Fogged glasses would be taken off to be wiped on a shirt tail or a paper napkin from the holder made by Lil McKiernan at a senior citizen craft class.

Men would make their way into the living room to watch whatever was on television. Women would stay in the kitchen, often sitting on a green metal folding chair. The chairs were old and kind of beat up. The cushions were green. When they inevitably tore my folks patched them with green electrician’s tape that nearly matched. The tape would curl up and leave a little adhesive on the clothing of whoever sat down on those chairs. I don’t remember anyone ever noticing.  

Were those chairs mine, now, I would throw them out without thinking about it. Thirty years ago they were perfectly fine. In fact I favored them because they were more comfortable than the regular chairs and if they were in use the house was full of people I loved - people I'd do nearly anything to see one more time.


If only resurrection weren’t so selective.

Monday, March 7, 2016

Send in the Clowns

I was on COWBOY EDDIE'S TV CIRCUS a lot when I was a kid because my brother Art was the cameraman at WISC-tv Channel 3 in Madison, WI. I'd be called in when they were short a kid. For my effort I would be given a loaf of Wonder Bread, an orange drink from McDonald?s and a little camera time. Those that know me as an adult might think that I would love it. They would be wrong. It was never fun.

The host, a ventriloquist named Howie Olsen was mean. I don't suppose his dream was to introduce public domain and cheaply produced cartoons to kids on a snack break from chores on the farm. He was frustrated and took it out on the kids.

Howie would grumble into the studio about two minutes before airtime. He'd pull Cowboy Eddie out of a trunk stashed under the stage making no effort to protect the kid?s illusion that Eddie was real. One time Mr. Olsen told me to shut up on the air because I was talking to one of the other kids instead of listening to his lame jokes about Popeye the Sailor Man.

The worst part was when they would ask the featured kids the Question of the Day. I was always a featured kid because my brother worked there. The question was always related to a sponsor. My parents were instructed to coach me with answers before I came in.

"What's your favorite bread Greg?"

"What's your favorite treat at McDonald's?"

The circus came to town and the question was, "What are you looking forward to when the Ringling Brothers come to the Madison Coliseum next week?"

I had been told to say, "I love the clowns!" which I did but it was a lie. I hated them. I still do for the most part. To me clowns celebrate the moronic. Any idiot knows there is confetti in the bucket, that all those guys aren't going to fit in the little car and that the wooden beam needs to go through the doorway lengthwise, not across.

I came by my hatred of clowns early.

When I was about three I had a dream that my parents were having my birthday party at a church right by our old house on Rutledge Street. A clown was there and he carried a huge knife. I thought he was going to cut the cake. Instead he chased me through the church, eventually catching me on the altar and holding me down. Before he plunged the knife into me he pulled off his mask. It was my father. I woke up screaming.

Irrational fears not withstanding, I told Howie Boozehound Olsen that I couldn't wait for the freaking clowns to get to Madison.

As usually happens when you're on TV, people you know tune in to watch. For my birthday that year I got lots of clown figurines, all of which were placed on the bookshelf in my room keeping silent, creepy vigil as I slept.

In the morning I would go into the kitchen for a breakfast that included toasted slices of my paycheck making me a literal breadwinner for my family. I remember being proud that I was helping feed everyone.

WISC-tv Channel 3 in Madison, WI recently celebrated its 50th Anniversary. Howie Olsen has passed away but they brought Cowboy Eddie back for one day. I happened to be home and tuned in. It was good to see him again.

I did not miss Howie.