May 2005 The Megaphone Page 4
What Was My Mother Thinking?
My
Mom used to cut chicken, chop eggs and spread mayo on the same cutting board
with the same knife and no bleach, but we didn't seem to get food poisoning. My
Mom used to defrost hamburger on the counter AND I used to eat it raw sometimes
too, our school sandwiches were wrapped in wax paper in a brown paper bag, not in
icepack coolers, but I can't remember getting e-coli?
Almost all of us would have rather gone swimming in the lake instead of a
pristine pool (talk about boring), no beach closures then.
The term cell phone would have conjured up a phone in a jail cell, and a pager
was the school PA system.
We all took gym, not PE... and risked permanent injury with a pair of high top
Ked's (only worn in gym) instead of having cross-training athletic shoes with
air cushion soles and built in light reflectors. I can't recall any injuries but
they must have happened because they tell us how much safer we are now.
Flunking gym was not an option... even for stupid kids! I guess PE must be much
harder than gym.
Every year, someone taught the whole school a lesson [and provided comic relief]
by running in the halls with leather soles on linoleum tile and hitting the wet
spot. How much better off would we be today if we only knew we could have sued
the school system.
Speaking of school, we all said prayers and sang the national anthem and staying
in detention after school caught all sorts of negative attention. We must have
had horribly damaged psyches.
I can't understand it. Schools didn't offer 14 year olds an abortion or condoms
(we wouldn't have known what either was anyway) but they did give us a couple of
baby aspirin and cough syrup if we started getting the sniffles.
What an archaic health system we had then. Remember school nurses? Ours wore a
hat and everything.
I thought that I was supposed to accomplish something before I was allowed to be
proud of myself.
I just can't recall how bored we were without computers, Play Station, Nintendo,
X-box or 270 digital TV cable stations.
I must be repressing that memory as I try to rationalize through the denial of
the dangers could have befallen us as we trekked off each day about a mile down
the road to some guy's vacant lot, built forts out of branches and pieces of
plywood, made trails, and fought over who got to be the Lone Ranger.
What was that property owner thinking, letting us play on that lot? He should
have been locked up for not putting up a fence around the property, complete
with a self-closing gate and an infrared intruder alarm.
Oh yeah... and where was the Benadryl and sterilization kit when I got that bee
sting? I could have been killed!
We played king of the hill on piles of gravel left on vacant construction sites
and when we got hurt, Mom pulled out the 48 cent bottle of Mercurochrome (kids
liked it better because it didn't sting like iodine did) and then we got our
butt spanked. Now it's a trip to the emergency room, followed by a 10-day dose
of a $49 bottle of antibiotics and then Mom calls the attorney to sue the
contractor for leaving a horribly vicious pile of gravel where it
was such a threat.
We didn't act up at the neighbor’s house either because if we did, we got our
butt spanked (physical abuse) here too and then we got butt spanked again when
we got home.
Mom invited the door to door salesman inside for coffee, kids choked down the
dust from the gravel driveway while playing with Tonka trucks (Remember why
Tonka trucks were made tough ... it wasn't so that they could take the rough
Berber in the family room), and Dad drove a car with leaded gas.
Our music had to be left inside when we went out to play and I am sure that I
nearly exhausted my imagination a couple of times when we went on two week
vacations. I should probably sue the folks now for the danger they put us in
when we all slept in campgrounds in the family tent
Summers were spent behind the push lawn mower and I didn't even know that mowers
came with motors until I was 13 and we got one without an automatic blade-stop
or an auto-drive. How sick were my parents? Of course my parents weren't the
only psychos. I recall Donny Reynolds from next door coming over and doing his
tricks on the front stoop just before he fell off. Little did his Mom know that
she could have owned our house. Instead she picked him up and swatted him for
being such a goof. It was a neighborhood run amuck.
To top it off, not a single person I knew had ever been told that they were from
a dysfunctional family. How could we possibly have known that? We needed to get
into group therapy and anger management classes?
We were obviously so duped by so many societal ills, that we didn't even notice
that the entire country wasn't taking Prozac! How did we ever survive?
Submitted by . . .
Trent
Toensing '57 & Craig Toensing '55