Lord of the Lies
Childhood is a treacherous journey.
No one passes without incident or harm. Mine of course was the most
horrible. I lived in a beautiful home with parents that doted on me,
3 siblings that loved me, neighbors to play with on quiet suburban
streets, a country club and summer camp. So you ask yourself, “how
did she navigate the horrors of such a life?” My answer is
simple, I was a liar. Not a white liar with little tales, (although I
told many of those as well) I was a big liar. Any accomplished
spinner of untruths will tell you, while weaving your yarn, start
with the truth and build you story from there. If only I had been
given these directions back then.
In 1960 we moved from our Long
Island home, and away from all of our relatives, settling in
Greensboro, NC. We had left behind my grandparents in Paterson NJ, my
great aunts and uncle In Brooklyn, and my cousins in Plainview, Long
Island. Twice a year we would make a journey back to New York. We
went to the home of my mother’s cousin Barbara with her booming
Brooklyn accent, her husband, Mitch, and their many children. I loved my cousins so much....those
visits were my very favorite times of year.
Our Christmas vacation trip in 1963
was filled with all the usual events. It was a vacation for us but
also a business trip for my father. During the weekdays, my father and
Mitch would go into the city for work and be gone all day. My mother
and Barbara would cook, shop and play mahjong. I would play with my
cousin Nancy who was just a little bit younger than I....but young
enough to completely follow, trust and believe me.
The fun on this trip started with a
purple ink pen. The first evening, after we had our baths, I took the
pen and with Nancy as my willing canvas, I colored her entire body
purple. Her flat chest cried out for adornment. I made her breasts
into big purple flowers with stems and leaves trailing down to her
belly button, then on and on and ever downward. Upon completion, she
went into her parent’s room to show off her new embellishments. A
second later, her father charged out of his room screaming, “Who
did this to her?!??” I stood there with the pen in my hand and
purple fingertips, my eyes searching the empty room, looking for
someone to blame.... then I shrugged and said, “I don’t know”.
Mitch wasn’t my father, he wasn’t going to punish me, but I knew,
that he knew, that I knew, that he knew.
The following night, with no
real-life drama to share, I began one of my “altered truths”. I
told Nancy all about President Kennedy’s funeral. I explained that
just a few weeks ago, Caroline Kennedy (my close dear friend) had
called me. She had implored, since we were such good pals, would I
please come to her father’s funeral. Not one to leave a friend in a
time of need, of course I assured Caroline that I would come. I told
Nancy how adorable John-John was as he saluted the casket.....and
dead father aside; the funeral was really was a lot of fun!
These were conveniently the days
before google searches. No “fact checking” to worry about, I was
able to tell Nancy that there were probably photos of me standing
next to my BFF, Caroline.The pictures showed me giving Caroline the
consolation and strength she required in this time of need....and of course i was entertaining with an impromptu ballet recital or a song..... This tale
made me not just a great friend, but a great patriot.
Some of the particulars of my tale
were left out....
1- How does a 7-year-old get from
Greensboro to DC without even as much as a learner’s permit?
2- Where does a 7 year old, traveling
solo, stay while in DC?
3 -Did I hang out at the White House
with Caroline or with the other invited guests and dignitaries?
….. Nancy was kind enough, (perhaps
because she was only 6) not to press for answers.
Before we retired for the evening, we
still had time for some games. I loved running up and down their
staircase since I lived in a one-story ranch house in Greensboro. As
I got up to the top of the stairs it occurred to me that the wrought
iron banisters were just like a jail cell....so I wanted to play
“Prison”. I would be the warden and Nancy would be an incarcerated
criminal. I had her stand on the landing behind the bars, then I told
her to put her head through the bars as if she was attempting to
breakout. I don’t understand the science behind this, but it was
easy to put head through the bars, but impossible to get her head out...Nancy
started to cry. Once again, her father angrily came flying out of his
bedroom. This time in his tightie-whities and comb-over flapping. I
knew this wasn’t going to end well for me. As he slowly maneuvered
his little girl's head out from between the railings, Nancy had
of plenty of time to him all about my trip to DC and the JFK's
funeral...... If only she had been quiet! But Nancy was able to
recite every detail that I had I told her. This was 1963 and parents
still believed in spankings. Mitch wasn't standing on ceremony, he
may not have been MY father, but I’m pretty sure that evening ended
with me getting spanked.
The next day, the men went back into
the city and the moms went shopping. My cousin’s house had an open
front porch leading to the garage. For theatrically minded girls like
me, it looked like a stage with entrances, both stage left and right.
There were about a million or so kids living on their block, so there
was always an audience.... but I wondered what kind of show could
Nancy, her brother Douglas and I put on? EUREKA!!! Thanks to that
purple ink being non-washable, Nancy was still festooned in my
handiwork. Why not a striptease? Douglas could be the Barker/MC,
Nancy the painted lady and I (of course) the main attraction. Douglas
was great at getting all of the neighborhood kids to come over. They
gathered on the front lawn, He would grandly introduce us, and then
Nancy and I would run naked from the garage side door, across the
front porch and into the house. With each performance, the crowds got
larger and more enthusiastic. Nancy and I waited, naked in the garage
for Douglas's signal for the two of us to streak across the porch.
Children were screaming and cheering on the front lawn. Nancy and I
charged across the front porch in our all together. At that very
moment, my mother and Barbara pulled into the driveway. Seeing our
two mothers, we bolted up the stairs to Nancy’s room. We jumped
into the closet. Moments later in her dulcet lilting voice, Barbara
shouted, “WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?!??” Nancy and I, naked, sitting
on the closet floor, looked up at her and I answered, “Nothing.....”
I don’t remember the drive back
down to North Carolina after this vacation, but I'm pretty sure it
included at stop in Washington DC for lunch with Lady Bird.
----------------------------------------------------
Recipe:
Chewy Chocolate Chunk-Cherry Cookies
Family favorite cookie....perfect for relatives, even if they are liars!
INGREDIENTS
3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
3 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature
2 cups packed light-brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
4 large eggs
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
12 ounces semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped (2 1/2 cups)
8 ounces dried cherries (1 1/2 cups)
STEP 1
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Whisk together flour, baking soda, and salt. Beat butter and sugars until pale and fluffy. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in vanilla, then flour mixture. Beat in chocolate and cherries. Refrigerate dough for 1 hour.
STEP 2
Roll dough into 1 3/4-inch balls (about 3 tablespoons each), and arrange on parchment-lined baking sheets, spacing about 3 inches apart. Bake until edges are golden, 12 to 14 minutes. Let cool on sheets set on wire racks for 10 minutes. Transfer cookies to racks; let cool completely.
----------------------------------------------------
Recipe:
Chewy Chocolate Chunk-Cherry Cookies
Family favorite cookie....perfect for relatives, even if they are liars!
Makes 40 Cookies
INGREDIENTS
3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
3 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature
2 cups packed light-brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
4 large eggs
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
12 ounces semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped (2 1/2 cups)
8 ounces dried cherries (1 1/2 cups)
DIRECTIONS
STEP 1
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Whisk together flour, baking soda, and salt. Beat butter and sugars until pale and fluffy. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in vanilla, then flour mixture. Beat in chocolate and cherries. Refrigerate dough for 1 hour.
STEP 2
Roll dough into 1 3/4-inch balls (about 3 tablespoons each), and arrange on parchment-lined baking sheets, spacing about 3 inches apart. Bake until edges are golden, 12 to 14 minutes. Let cool on sheets set on wire racks for 10 minutes. Transfer cookies to racks; let cool completely.
I can't remember any of these stories.
ReplyDeleteMaybe you weren't there...except for lunch with Lady Bird...it's all true
DeleteThis episode jogged my memory of how I used to "abuse" my little brother by building a cage out of tinker toys and making him stay inside whilst I sat idly buy munching a plate of cookies that were beyond his reach. I finally let him out when Batman came on TV, so that I would have someone to KAPOW! when fight scenes happened... He's 56 now, and I'm pretty sure he's still holding a grudge.
ReplyDeleteGlad it brought back memories
DeleteI believe it all...except of course the Chewy Chocolate Chunk-Cherry Cookies!
ReplyDeleteYou made that up you invented those cookies...Right?
they are truly unbelievable ----no lie!!
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteMy mother had warned us that she would have to wash our mouth out with soap and water if we said dirty dirty words. It didn't take long to find out if she would do it. I said to my younger brother Robert, "Bet you're afraid to say a really dirty word." "I am not said my younger brother." "Then say 'poopie'" was my answer. Robert: "Poopie"! "I can't hear you," I replied. "You sound like a little boy. Can't you speak up like a big boy?"
ReplyDeleteHe stood up straightlike a big boy on a mission and said loudly, "Poopie on you! Poopie on you!" Into the room came our mother, exclaiming, "How dare you defy me," as she took him into the bathroom for the promised oral cleansing (which I think she regretted, but she had taught us to keep our promises.) Just as I support you Ruth, no matter how unruly the mob gets, I urged my mother to enforce her orders as I shouted repeatedly, "That's what you get, Robert, that's what you get. HA! HA! HA! My mother, catching on that I had something to do with it as was my wont, told me that I had better get out of the bathroom immediately, or she would wash out my mouth at which time I remembered that I wanted go out into the yard to ride my little red tricycle! I disappeared like the rabbit into the magician's hat! I feel a certain mischievous kinship with your narrative!
I loved hearing this story again. I remember the first time I heard it so vividly. I was in the stands at a Brooklyn Dodgers game when Jackie Robinson hit a monster homer and I jumped up to cheer knocking the popcorn out of the hand of the girl sitting next to me. I apologized and introduced myself " Hi my name is David" "Well hi yourself. My name is Nancy. I'm Ruth Kabat's cousin. Do you know her?" "Of course" I said "Who doesn't". "Did you know she was best friends with Caroline Kennedy?" "No" I said. "Did she ever tell you about the time when we were little and she painted my breastlette's like flowers and we did a naked strip tease in my front yard for every body the neighborhood?" "No, I don't think so anyway. I'm pretty sure I would have remembered that if she had" " Well we did. And now we have the highest concentration of sex offenders per square block of any borough in the city. What a coincidence right? Go figure?" She and your story were delightful.
ReplyDeleteNumber entertainment, tech, education and news blog all in one place
ReplyDeletetechnology, news, entertainment, education and news blog