Life with Fred & Lucy, Episode 36: Evening In Paris

                                                            

No, Fred and Lucy never went to Paris. I don’t think my father ever went farther than Wildwood, N.J. in his 90+ years. My mother on the other hand had visited her sister Anna on several occasions when Anna lived in Oklahoma. Mom also spent time in Reno when applying for her divorce from Fred before moving to Napa California with her boyfriend. Long story and I don’t want to talk about this part of my childhood on the blog. What I do want to talk about is the perfume that I had always associated with my mother when I was growing up and...after she left.

                                                         

My mother loved using Evening in Paris. It was for a long time her favorite perfume. I remember Jane, little Lucy and I sneaking into our parent’s bedroom when they were busy working in the family grocery store and investigating my mother’s stuff.

                                    looked something like this, but nicer                     

Mom had a vanity set that was to die for. It looked like something right out of the movies and this is where Mom would sit and put on her make-up and jewelry. She kept her bottle of perfume on the top shelf of the vanity and we three girls would spritz the perfume on our neck after we would put on Mom’s makeup.

                                                           

Evening in Paris had a strong scent, at least to me, and even though I wasn’t particularly fond of the scent, I still spritzed. When we three sisters were done spritzing and putting on makeup, we would pull out mom’s fancy slips and make believe we were famous actresses.  

                                                        

Sometimes we’d forget to wash off the perfume and makeup before heading downstairs for dinner. Mom would ask, “Were you touching my stuff again?”

“No??” we lied, but I think the smell and the rouge gave us away.

“That’s expensive perfume. Don’t touch it,” she’d counter every time.

Recently someone sent me some photos about the old days. I shared them on a blog. One of the photos was a bottle of Evening in Paris. I thought about my mom. She stopped using Evening in Paris way before she took off to Reno. I think she was using Channel # something or other; it really doesn’t matter.

                                                   

On one of my sister Lucy’s and my visits to Napa, we were in Jane’s kitchen having coffee with mom. I don’t know how we got on the conversation of perfumes, but when Jane, Lucy and I began laughing about our ritual of playing movie stars with mom’s belongings; my mother denied ever using Evening in Paris. “You’re all crazy. I didn’t use that cheap shit.”

“Yes, you did!” we countered in unison. Mom was in her mid to late stages of dementia by then, but we hadn’t picked up on how bad it was at that time. We just thought she was being “Lucy”.

Even though hostile to each other while alive, my mom along with Fred decided to spend their afterlife in my attic. I don’t know why except my dad’s commode is up there, and in their old age before they died, they both considered bowel evacuation as the highlight of the day. It probably has something to do with old age. I hope I don’t get like that, but I told my daughter that if I ever started talking about bowel movements, she is to put me on a block of ice and send me out to sea. It would be time “To Flow.”

                                  

                                                            

So my parents are haunting my house and I’m perfectly fine with it. They help me with my Fred and Lucy stories; not too crazy about my zombie stories. Anyway...when I looked at that photo of Evening in Paris, I heard mommy say, “I did use it.”

                                                                
And just for a moment, a blink of an eye second as time stood still, I smelled the perfume.

Steampunk Granny Reminisces About the Ole Days

                                                                             

I’ve been reminded many times by my grandsons who are better known as the Desperadoes in most of my family blog stories that I’m old. In fact, the youngest once told me that I was probably as old as the dinosaurs. Little smart ass, but maybe they came to that conclusion when I was telling them how different my childhood was from theirs. They could not get over the fact that we did not have cell phones or computers.

“How did you keep in touch with your friends?” Nathan asked.  

“We called them on the phone, or walked over to their house, but if they lived too far away; we wrote letters,” I replied.

“No cell phones?”

 

                                                                    

“You know that heavy old black phone in Grandpop Fred’s house?” I asked and waited for his nod. “Well, it was connected to the wall and that’s where you made your calls.”

                                                                 

My friend Rita sent some photos to me that demonstrates perfectly the immense progress we’ve made since I was a kid, but these pictures also feature a few objects that will be sadly missed.

Nathan, this is for you.

This is what my Grandmother would wash her clothes in and then hang the clothing outside on clotheslines that stretched from one side of the yard to the other. We would play hide and seek between the sheets and if it began to rain, the whole family ran outside to help get the clothing inside before they got wet.

                                                                             

My generation didn't have video games or expensive toys. We played outside for hours and the games we had were passed down to our little brothers and sisters. We were not allowed to break our toys.

                                                                     

 

 

 

We didn't have MP3 Players or I-Pods or Smart phones to listen to music. When the transistor radio came out, my friends and I thought we were super cool to be able to bring our music with us. We only got radio stations. There was no downloading of music. You listened to what you got.

 

                                                           

                                                                  

When we were sick, our parents had their own version of a first aid kit, but if that didn't work then the doctor would make a house call. Yep, our family doctor not only came to the house to take care of us, but he would often stay for dinner

 

                                                                    

 

We girls didn't have the money to get pedicures or manicures or even go to a hairdresser, but we did one hell of a job teasing or hair and then spraying with enough hairspray to repel atomic weapons

 

                                                           

 

Uncle Mike, Aunt Jane and Me.

 

Oh, one more thing. As far as discipline, our parents believed in spanking and so did the Nuns at our Catholic School. When we went home and told our parents that the Nuns had smacked us with a ruler, they would give us another smack for upsetting the teacher.

 

                                                                

 

We didn't have it as easy as the kids today, but we sure as hell knew how to have a good time.

 

                                                             

 

Yes, Nathan, your granny is old, but not as old as the dinosaurs and I will always love you...from here to the moon and back. I hope I live long enough to hear you explain to your grandchildren that things were better when you were a kid.





Life with Fred & Lucy, Episode 34: Is That You?

                                                           

My father and mother are partying together. Fred and Lucy may have been mortal enemies while alive, but dead they apparently (according to several respected mediums) have decided to join forces. Fred has forgiven my mother; too long a story to tell here, but the details will be in the upcoming book.

                                                            Mom and me in California                                   

Fred and Lucy spend time visiting my house, my sister Lucy’s house and my daughter’s house. They make sure we know they are there. Whenever I'm writing an episode on “Life with Fred and Lucy”, I feel that they are there and they are watching me. Did they mind my telling stories of our family? Was mom upset with my revealing her bad driving record? I didn't know.

Recently, my daughter confirmed that Fred and Lucy were indeed aware of my stories about them. About six months ago, she was invited to a group reading by a famous California Medium. It was last minute. One of the girls scheduled to attend had fallen ill ,and  since there had to be an accurate head count before the Medium would agree to come out, ReRe's friend asked her to fill in.

Before that poor woman could even introduce herself, my father was there. He would not let any spirits through unless he spoke first. Yep, that’s the Fred I know. The medium had no choice but to let Fred speak.

                                                              

He told my daughter that he’s not only with my mother, but also with wife #2 and wife#3 who we called Grandmom Mary. We loved her as if she were our own mother. Nuts, right? He's partying with all three wives. But, according to Fred, they are happy and enjoying the fact that they can spy on us whenever they want; this must be some kind of afterlife benefit for parents. ReRe is afraid I might do this to her.

He told my daughter that he loves my Fred & Lucy Stories; keep them coming. After telling ReRe some stuff that only she would know, he told her to make sure Nathan wears a helmet when he does Parkour. Yep, came right out and mentioned the sport. Just like that. Finally the Medium told Fred he would have to leave; the other spirits were getting ready to rebel. Fred left peacefully, which was a first for him.

I can hear Fred walking around the attic at night. I’ll yell up to the attic, “Hey Fred. Is that you?” My grandsons have heard him, too. My mother hangs around the first floor and sometimes I can smell her perfume. I know for sure, she’s around especially when I’m feeling sick. She pats my back while I’m trying to fall asleep.

My sister has reported incidents that happen around her house and, she’ll call out, “Is that you?”

My daughter not only has my parents dropping by, but also my deceased mother-in-law.  Eleanor has saved my youngest grandson from many a broken bone by calling out to my daughter whenever Nathan thought he could fly like Superman.

My family is very comfortable with the paranormal. We are all blessed with psychic abilities and don’t mind the extra protection from the other side. Whenever I’m at a ghost investigation, I make sure to do the binding procedures so I don’t unintentionally take someone home, but even if I did; Fred and Lucy would kick the wayward spirit out.

                                                                  

I’m not sure what Fred is looking for up in the attic, but I’m guessing it’s his deck of pinochle cards. I would give them to him, but I kind of feel safe with him and mom around. Do you have dead relatives visiting your home? Most people, if honest with themselves, will say they do and that they don’t mind.

See you next week with a new Fred & Lucy Episode called Shoes.  

Life with Fred & Lucy, Episode 33: Card Sharks

                                                            

Aunt Rita, Uncle Frank, Aunt Louise, Uncle Jack, Aunt Helen, Mom, little Lucy, me

My father and his siblings loved to play cards. It was a chance for them to get together after a long day at work. Sometimes the games were held at our house, but most often they were held at Aunt Helen’s or Aunt Rita’s house.  My aunts Helen, Louise and Rita were my father’s younger sisters from his mom, who had passed away when my father was very young.

 

My grandfather, Michael Maratea went back to Italy to find a new wife. That’s what people did back then when a wife died. I guess it was something like a mail order bride. Grandpop had his family in Italy put their feelers out for prospective mates who were willing to take on the job of raising four children and working long hours in a grocery store, and all for the chance of living in America. Side note:  My grandfather had originally joined a seminary to become a priest. Priesthood ran in the family and we had several Maratea men as Cardinals in Rome. I think the love bug hit Grandpop and he left the seminary and married my grandmother Maria.  

                                                              

                                        Grandmom Rose and Grandpop Maratea

My Grandma Rosie not only took care of my father and his three sisters, but she gave birth to four children, and that’s how my father acquired four more siblings, Aunt DeDe, Aunt Margie, Aunt Rosie and Uncle Michael.

    Aunt Louise and Aunt Rita before card game                                                                              

Pinochle

This was my father’s favorite game and he and his sisters played this game all the time. My father knew how to count the cards and because he did, he could figure out what each person held in their hand at any given time. He wasn’t a gambler and never went to the casinos at Atlantic City, but it’s a good thing he didn’t do casinos because he would have been banned. He was that good.

                                                                

My father was also a poor loser and I was witness to the many arguments that would break out when someone messed up the game. Whenever I heard my father ranting, “What are you stupid? Why did you throw that card, dumb ass?” I immediately knew who he was yelling at. My poor Aunt Louise was usually the poor recipient of these outbursts.

                                                                                                                         

My Aunt Louise was also a recipient of one of my father’s more famous practical jokes. My father tricked my poor aunt into thinking that her husband Jack was helping my father care for pigeons that were kept in a pigeon coop on the roof of our home. Why? It was an excuse for Uncle Jack to sneak over our house and play cards. We never had pigeons. This went on for a long time before Aunt Louise found out. She read my father the riot act, but that never stopped Fred from orchestrating his long list of pranks on his family.

Apple Pie

One time, my father was pissed off at a man who usually showed up at the card games over my Aunt Rita’s house. Ed was a business partner of my aunt and uncle and he was often invited to play cards at my aunt’s home. I never learned what Ed did wrong at one of those card games, but what I do know is that my father had found the perfect revenge. Ed hated pumpkin pie and my father sold pies at our grocery store. Fred would bring a pumpkin pie at every game even though Ed vehemently complained.  Ed’s only salvation from the hated dessert was when the season for pumpkins had passed.

                                                                

 

My father had taught all us kids how to play pinochle, and while he was alive and well, we played whenever we could all get together...but I haven’t played the game since he died. My grandsons wanted to learn the game, but I forgot some of the rules and how to keep score. Yes, I know I can download the information from the internet, but it’s just not the same.

                                                             

My father and mother take turns visiting my home and my sister Lucy’s home. I should say their spirits visit us. The dead are always with us and my parents are both determined that I don’t forget this.  I was thinking...maybe if I leave the deck of cards out...maybe my father will help me remember how to play the game.

FRED

                                                                 

                                                           

I've been digging through boxes and boxes of old photos trying to find pictures to use on my Life with Fred & Lucy Episodes and eventually in the book I'll be publishing about growing up in South Philly.

I found this picture. The funny thing is I actually remember my mother taking that picture. I was about two years old and baby Jane (yes my younger sister who I tried to sell to the Fudgie Wudgie ice cream man down at the shore) was finally asleep. Jane was a colicky baby and did nothing but cry all day, and even though I threw many a temper tantrum, my mom refused to send her back.

                                                                   

My father was working at the PTC and drove one of the trolleys. When he would come home at night, he would take me for ice cream and then sit on the step of our house and tell me all about the stars and planets. He wasn't stressed out back then. That frown on my face  in the picture with me and Fred was because mom wanted me to go to sleep. It's funny what you remember from your childhood. I didn't want to go to bed because of the old woman (ghost) that would come in and scream at me...but that is a story for another day.

Life With Fred & Lucy Episode 32: Don't Kill Patty

                                                              

My sister Lucy, who was the youngest of Fred and Lucy’s spawn and, had somehow survived past her infancy in spite of her older siblings as told on this episode, had received a Patti PlayPal Doll for Christmas. Lucy was so happy to have a doll that was just her size. Lucy really loved that doll. Unfortunately, she lived in a dysfunctional home and Patti’s survival looked dim

Patty Play Pal

This doll was the big hit in 1961 and the best way for you to understand how big a deal it was to own a Patti PlayPal, is to see the commercial.

 

That year, my brother, Michael, had also received a Christmas gift that he’d been hoping good, ole, Santa would bring him. His gift was a Remco Science kit which held all kinds of scientific experiments. Michael was ready to play Dr. Frankenstein. A few days later, while Michael was setting up his diabolical laboratory, my mother was in the kitchen washing dishes.
                                                                  
                                                                     

                 Michael, Jane, Mom, unknown doll, Patty Play Pal and Little Lucy

Mom was at the sink and she wanted someone to dry the dishes. There was a mirror over the kitchen sink. To this day, I don’t know why my father would have hung a mirror over the kitchen sink, but I suspect it was to see what we were doing behind his back.
                                                                                    
                                                                      

                                              you can see the mirror over the sink

Unknown to Mom, Lucy left her Patti doll sitting at the kitchen table while she ran to the bathroom. Mom thinks it’s my sister sitting at the table and when Lucy ignored her request for help, my mother gave a "Gibbs smack to the back of the doll's head and it went flying off the chair. My mother let out a scream thinking she had seriously hurt little Lucy.

Little Lucy had just returned to the kitchen to see Patti lying on the floor. “You killed Patti!” Lucy cried out, but luckily Patti wasn't damaged. That would soon change with my brother planning his first experiment.                                                                      

My sister Lucy came home from school one day to find a badly scarred Patti sitting on her bed. There were stiches drawn in permanent ink across her face, arms and legs and one of her eyes was a bit crooked. “Mikeeeeey,” she screamed in horror.

                                                                          

My brother came running into the bedroom wearing a white lab coat and holding a pen knife. When Lucy, who was in tears, asked why he broke her doll, his reply was, “I saved the patient.”

My father gave the good doctor a spanking and tried to undo the damage to Patti, but she was destined to remain a character from a horror movie.  Lucy refused to play with her doll in public. It was too painful explaining to her little friends that our family was more like the Addams Family. Later that year, Patti lost a limb during another one of Michael’s experiment. Patti was finally put to rest in doll heaven, better known as the basement.
                                                               

 I'm writing an apocalyptic series and in the first book, Roof Oasis, one of my characters is a robot. I named her Patty in honor of Lucy’s doll, but unlike my sister's doll, no one can hurt this Patty. She’s armed.

Life with Fred and Lucy, Episode 31: Street Smarts

                                                                               

How does one acquire street smarts? If you have parents with a bad case of OCD and paranoia, the answer is easy; trust no one. My father was a survivor of “The Great Depression” and my mother moved here from Naples, Italy right as Mussolini was in power and becoming chummy with Hitler, so they saw things that probably stayed with them for a long time.

My father could tell by a person’s body language if they were up to no good. Every once in a while, when a customer entered our store, Fred would say to us four kids, “Keep an eye on him or her. They’re going to steal something.”

                                                                   

 

Since I usually played the role of ‘Devil’s Advocate’ I would quickly counter with, “But…dad, they go to school with us. I don’t think they’re like that.”

“Just watch,” my father would snap back his reply, folding his arms in confirmation. Damn! He was right. I would watch from a hidden section of the story and see friends and neighbors that I knew or thought I knew, pocket candy or cakes, rolls, etc. into coat pockets or purses.

My father was a fountain of behavior profiling before it was ever a science or used by law enforcement agencies. These are just a few of his theories: Always check their eyes; If they won’t look you in the eye, they’re hiding something; If they keep glancing around as if nervous, they’re getting ready to do something bad; If they keep clearing their throats when speaking to you, they are in the act of lying.

                    The sisters practicing self-defense on each other                                          

 

Why were Fred and Lucy always on target? It was a gift. With my mom, I think it had to do with her psychic abilities and with Fred maybe it was the horror of growing up during very hard times. My father said he could usually tell if a person was ‘missing a few days of the week’ (the code for knuckleheads) by looking at their eyes. There were so many times that my father and I would argue because he didn’t like one of my friends. “Keep away from that kid! There’s something wrong with them.” Fred was usually right about the friends that he didn’t like, but at the time I was too angry to appreciate his attempts to protect me.

The behavior profiling didn’t stop in the store. My parents were always telling us kids how to be aware of your surroundings while away from home. Here is a list of Fred and Lucy’s truisms: Always keep looking behind you when walking on the street; if you’re suspicious about someone who is approaching you; cross the street and then walk quickly away; lock your car door as soon as you get into the car; hold your purse close to your body; if there is a group heading your way, and you’re afraid, then walk into the street.

I wondered if walking into oncoming traffic was wise, but Fred had an answer for that too. “If you have to get hit by a car to keep from getting dragged into the bushes; do it.” Since we did not have bushes in South Philly, I kind of ignored that bit of advice, but it did come in handy years later.                                                                     

We kids became street wise and there were dangerous situations that we were able to avoid or get away from because of the lessons learned from Fred and Lucy. I passed these lessons on to my daughter, and she to her children.
                                                                   

Recently, my youngest grandson was being followed by a white pick-up truck. It could have been innocent, but… he was nervous. It didn’t seem right that the truck would drive real slow as it followed him home for almost two weeks. ReRe notified the police who took down the information. Was that enough for my daughter and I? Hell no!
                                                                        

My daughter and I began our stake-out. We had coffee, cameras, and dark sunglasses. We were ready for the white pick-up.  We would watch as Nathan left the school to walk home; wait a few minutes to see if anyone followed and then we tailed Nathan until he reached home.

                          We were trying to be like Cagney and Lacey                                          

 We did this for several weeks and collected a few suspicious license plate numbers for the police. We may have scared the shit out of the men in that white pick-up, because Nathan hasn’t seen the truck since we began our stake-out.  The investigation is still on going, but to make sure Nathan was 'street smart ready', I re-stated my parent’s warnings.

Be Street Smart and pass it down.

Life with Fred & Lucy, Episode 30: Robert Hall

                                                       

Back in the day, during the late 50’s and early 60’s, shopping for our family’s clothing was limited to three particular areas: The shops on 7^th street between Ritner and Snyder, Lit Brothers Department Store at 8^th and Market Streets or Robert Hall Clothing Store near 24^th and Oregon Ave.

A trip on the trolley to Lit Brothers was always a special treat because Lit Brothers had a larger selection of clothing to choose from and that meant that Jane and I had more leverage with mom. My mother, who always bought and dressed in the latest fashions, seemed to lose all sense of style when it came to buying clothes for her pre-teenaged daughters. You can tell by the above picture that I was not at all happy with my outfit, and in fact, tried to hide among my cousins.

                                                                

 

Michael and Lucy being younger didn’t mind as much, but Jane and I dreaded every shopping adventure with mom. She always bought clothing that was too big, and when we complained, she would quickly counter with, “You’ll get more wear out of it.”

More wear? Like...did she expect us to keep the dress for our 80^th birthday? She did this with shoes too. I’ve often wondered if my siblings' and my classmates thought that we had a genetic condition with our walking because we clumped around in our shoes, but... according to Lucy, “You’ll get more wear out of it.”

                                                                     

 

Mom also liked to buy things in duplicates and triplicates, for example, if she liked a particular sundress then she would buy the same dress for Jane, Lucy and me. We weren’t triplets or twins, but mom wanted us to look the same. How wonderful! Jane, Lucy and I looked like refugees; all wearing the same dress that were two sizes larger than they needed to be…you know to get more wear out of it.

Although we would make the trip to Lit Brothers and 7^th street at least once a year, my mother’s favorite store was Robert Hall. It was in walking distance, ten city blocks away, and the clothes were more affordable according to mom. Maybe my mom liked the jingle for the store. Here is a sample.
 

 

One particular summer, my mother had bought Jane, Lucy and me the shorts and tops we would need for our two week vacation from our crazy parents and the grocery store. Mom had packed our clothing into the metal trunks without us seeing what she bought and sent us off to St. Monica’s Summer Camp.

                                                                  

Robert Hall must have been having one hell of a freaking great sale on red and blue shorts because Mom bought Jane and I five exact shorts all the same color…five…exact…shorts. Lucy was spared only because they didn’t carry the style in her size. Nothing like being teased at camp because the kids thought you and your sister were wearing the same clothing over and over. I still have nightmares about that summer.

                                                                

I hated this dress!!!! Can you tell?

 

Once Jane and I were in high school and going to Newman’s dances, we began to argue with mom about the clothing she was trying to force on us. The last time my mom bought clothing for me, we were in one of the dressing rooms at Robert Hall. I hated the dress. Mom liked it. I threw it on the floor. She hauled off and smacked me…but in the end I had won the battle and she didn’t get the dress.

                                                                 

      

Jane in a dress she bought with her own money

                                                             

Jane and I began buying our clothing with our allowance money from working the store. We no longer worried about wearing clothing that hung on us or was outdated. The clothes Jane and I shopped for were always in style and more importantly, they fit.
 

                                                               

                                            

Rere with an outfit she picked out

 

I vowed that I would never force my fashion style on my daughter, and I didn’t. Rere was pretty savvy on clothing style as young as four years old and she would often pick out her own clothing whenever we went shopping. But…some things never change. On one of my yearly visits to see my mother, who was then living in Napa California, she took my daughter and me clothes shopping. Mom had found a beautiful dress that she wanted Rere to try it on.

It was two sizes bigger and definitely nothing Rere would wear; my daughter was a tomboy, but Mom persisted on buying it. I was about to say something, but Rere beat me to it. “Grandmom, it's not going to happen.”

                                                                  

 

“Okay, pick out something you like instead.” And just like that, my mother let her granddaughter pick an outfit she wanted to wear.

Who was this woman?