08.18.03 |
Down there ... at the 8/14 post ...
I wrote about how I need to get my home clean and myself groomed when I see radar indicating impending stormage.
When I was writing it, I flashed back to my childhood.
You know, waaaaay back then.
Anyhow, I had a neighborhood friend named Kathy F. that I used to play with. Barbies, bike riding, playing "store" ... just being girls: lots of giggling, dressing up, and silliness.
She had an older sister named Tina and two older brothers, Roland and ... um, whatever.
Her dad, John, was a Sergeant with the Phoenix Police Department ... in the homicide division. I remember that I thought he was very handsome in a young James Garner sort of way.
Not that this is integral to this story, but Kathy and I would sneak into her parents' bedroom and look at the glossy black & white photos of homicide victims. I was so young and unaffected, they just did not seem like real people.
And once, she and I snuck into the bedroom to look at photos and instead found his service revolver. Yep, we both picked it up and looked at it. Of course, nothing happened ... but when I think back .... whew.
But alas, I digress ...
... Kathy's mom, Margaret, was a bit ... er, shall we say "eccentric"?
I remember that she had her light beige carpet cleaned but some of the doggie stains just would not come out. She went out and bought sooo many boxes of dark green Ritz Dye Powder and proceeded to mix bowl after bowl of dye in a large mixing bowl... and on her hands and knees, using a big yellow (soon to become green) sponge, she dyed her carpet.
It took days and days to dry. The house smelled horrible for weeks.
Margaret was a huge, mega, totally devoted John Wayne fan.
Back in the 1960's a local teevee station used to show a movie every Saturday night. "Channel 5's Silver Dollar Movie".
Movies of the "western" or "war" genres were big around here. Hence, at least once a month some John Wayne movie would be featured for Saturday Night Faire.
So, on these Saturdays ... Margaret would clean the house. I mean really clean. All Saturday morning and midday. When the house was spic and span we were warned, by threat of life and limb, not to mess anything up.
Margaret would not, however, make dinner on those special Saturdays.
Instead ... late in the afternoon she would disappear to her bedroom. She would slip into a long, hot bath ... then maybe add a bit of henna to her mousy brown hair ... and sit at her dressing table for hours fixing her hair, dabbing on perfume, painstakingly putting on make-up.
[Kathy and I spied. Kathy told me that her mother did this, but I did not believe her]
Margaret would lift her short, pasty white legs and slowly, so slowly ... bring up a silk stocking ... then another ... only to have them disappear under her modest underslip.
She would then slip into a very nice dress (often sewed with little beads or a sprinkle of rhinestones).
Margaret would emerge looking stunning. The dowdy housewife was transformed.
She would take one wineglass down from the shelf, pour herself a chilled softdrink, and settle herself like a seductress on the sofa in the living room.
John Wayne was coming to Margaret's house. Margaret was in her version of Heaven.
The family indulged her. Everyone spoke in whispers. Sgt. John made the family dinner.
I was allowed to spend many Saturday nights at Kathy's house and I remember that "John Wayne Night" was almost a religious experience.
A ballet of a fan ... dancing in her fantasies with her movie idol ... sipping Diet Rite, Tab or maybe Tang ...
... and her permanently dyed dark green cuticles barely noticeable because of the sparkle in her eyes.
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