The 'should have known' is about my lifelong love, affinity, for, of women. Some of my best friends. Best bosses. Of course best lovers. It has absolutely nothing to do with book sales. Everything ya read on the internet is true too ain't it?
By the time I/we moved to Liberty, Missouri the second time, I was nine. The big ole 3 story house we moved into was, the 19th place I lived in. St. Louis MO, St. Charles, MO, Jefferson City, MO, Denver, CO, Colardo Springs, CO and Liberty the first time, and multiple houses within several of those towns. That was all pretty boring, so, I'd better bootscoot on to sumpin else eh?
The why. My dad, and of course, with input, approval from my mom. I'm lucky, I loved them both, and the feelings were mutual. It ain't always like that I understand. They, mom (1987), sister (1999) and father (2001) are now gone. My take, "I couldn't have handpicked a better family to grow up in, the basta's (said extremely lovingly) just all checked out too soon."
Back to dad. He touched the surface of knowledge on just about everything. Everyone has a mind of their own, but he truly had a mind of his own. His own mother passed from scarlet fever when he was six. His father, my grandpa of course, good man. Different back then. Dad was raised by aunts, uncles, his dad and aunts and uncles. Then, the military. Army Air Corp, yes, at a bad time, WWII. Thankfully, he never saw combat, and, never even got off of US turf.
What he did learn though, this "Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign" style of life, wasn't really his thing. He wasn't a troublemaker, or, rebellion upstarter - he moreso, had fun with it. For instance, he was at a large Base that had 5 mess halls. Dad, in his acquired wheeler-dealer ways, had attained a mess hall pass to all five. Ate whenever, wherever he wanted. After all the fun and boredom wore off of that, he one day was again en route to eat... signaled to a higher up for assistance, held out the 5 passes and said "Say, can you help me out and lemme know which pass to use in this mess hall?" I dunno if he went to the brig, but, there was some sort of correctional action to it all. From his small shoes (he was not a large man, 5'6", prolly wore size 8's), he won.
Victor, this is all well and good but it doesn't give us an inkling as to whyintheheck you moved so frequently. Oh yeah, thanks, and btw, I love when readers interact here.
Dad loved people. All people. He loved animals. All animals. When someone would mention they were gonna euthanize their hound, dad would look 'em in the eyes, and say "You mean, kill 'em." That was he. He had a friendly gift of gab, this trait was not picked up by his son (me), I much prefer to write, but, can't hold a candle to my mom in that department. Dad loved towns. Big towns, small towns, Suburbs, urban, rural, side roads, country roads, driving. Presto, "I'll get into sales.... traveling sales." And that he did.
Dad sold S&H Green Stamps, Plaid (McDonald Stamps for A&P), Top Value, ink pens, art prints, Jerry Lewis Movie Theaters, Books, trinkets, gadgets, I mighta missed one or seven, and finally, cars. Editor's note, er, rather, author's note, that's a lotta jobs, and it would prove out to be hereditary. If he found a way to make $200 more a month, "Come on, we're moving." Did I mention mind of his own? A beautiful one in and of that. People enjoyed my father, my father enjoyed people. Normally, when he went in a joint to sell, visit, talk, become friends, when he would leave, his car would weigh a little less, and some type of arrangement, display was made, agreed upon, and I have zero clue as to the terms.
After a yummy Monday morning breakfast cooked by mom, dad would shove off across Kansas... or Colorado.. or Iowa, Nebraska.. predominantly and purposefully avoiding Ike's Interstate System. He drove clunkers (all used), sure, gas guzzlers, but, he figured, should he get into a wreck, better to be in one piece than two. This bore to be hereditary as well,. One of my claim to fames in life is passing Parallel Parking in a 1962 Lincoln Continental. (George Brett and I went to different schools together, too, that was another)
His return home would be sometime Thursday afternoon, evening - and in great anticipation of his coming home, mom would sit on the stairwell stoop, looking out the back window into our alleyway, head swiveling back and forth between that and the The Honeymooners, I Love Lucy, Donna Reed, Gunsmoke, yada. Whilst I do believe I experienced marital bliss, I/we could never seem to match the bliss between the two of them. The words loyal, love, best friends, have fun come to mind.
Victor, I just picked up this book in the bookstore and I ain't decided yet if I'm gonna buy it. You haven't mentioned much about your mom. I'm sooooo glad you asked, thank you, and... our secret.. use your phone right now and buy it off Amazon, free shipping and it cost $3 less. Mom.
Doesn't every little boy love their mom? I sure did. She was pretty, smart, was my play catch partner in the front yard, and served up THE VERY BEST Spanish Rice. In her late 20's, she almost hit a kid on his bike - so, she stopped driving then and there for over 20 years. We walked, or Atikinson Cab'ed it, everywhere. It was the bus to Antioch Shopping Center, and every year at Christmas, to downtown KC, Macy's, Jone's, Emery Bird Thayer, Klines and the like. I liked the like. Especially at Christmas with the huge lit crowns hovered above every intersection. Boy, Mom, Sister, bus rides together, shopping, Christmas - yum.
My mother was the middle of three sisters. Shortly after they married, dad was approached by a buddy.. he hadn't seen pa (Pa is small town talk for dad, father.. and it's easier to write too).. he hadn't seen dad in awhile, thus, ":Whar ya been?" Well, I married one of the Collins' girls... "Oh yeah? Did you marry the pretty one or the smart one?" Both. Dad never knew which he meant, but he knew, mom was both. Mom could conquer the Crossword Puzzle faster'n the record holder doing the Rubik's cube. Misspelled words weren't her way. When I was in typing class in HS, I kept peekin' at the letters, so, the mean ole teacher put masking tape over the letters. Mom would type, watch the Price is Right, To Tell The Truth, and What's My Line whilst typing 60+ wpm, zero errors. Sure, little boys are biased, I don't care, she was the bomb.
How did they meet, where/whatt was their first date to? Damnit darnit. I am now old, as in 71. I hate when old people tell me what to do, BUT, take the time to ask your folks questions like this, for one day, they won't be around so you're left to guess.
I do know mom robbed the cradle as dad was in the class behind her in School. I do know, Fulton, Missouri Class of 1938 and 1939. I do know they were on the campus of Westminster College during Winton Churchill's Iron Curtain Speech... no, not at the speech, but at a dance in another bulding on campus. I do know, they eloped, and... that they took their best friends (her first cousin Eileen and her hubby Earl), that they were po', so, insteada a room at the Del Coronado, it was an out of the way motel.. shared room.. a rope divider between the two beds with blankets strewn over 'em.. uh huh, Earl and Eileen were in the room with 'em.
What was your sister's name? What was she like? My sister's name was Vanda. About dad first. We already know he was friendly, liked people. He was, funny ha ha funny. Took morals seriously, and life not so much. He loved speaking infronta people, to people, with people. Plays, theater. Mom, we already said she was pretty, smart, athletic.. 3" taller than dad.. honest to a fault (and I never understood that saying, as, how can that be a fault?") She was good, no, in conversation, but never really carried it, preferring to learn all about you.. Vanda was a beautiful mixture of the two. Fun, funny. A lover of levity. Theater. Speaking to people. With people. Wonderful listening skills thrown in for good measure. An inch taller than my mom. Throw in the fact she loved children and I think that made her perfect, or darn close. She loved a good prank and was quite demonstrated at it.
Are you biased or was she really pretty? Both. I heard it forever and ever. We'd travel to a loved one's house for a visit... folks would look at this beautiful blue eyed blonde little gal and remark "Isn't Vanda beautiful... then they'd peek over to her five year younger, redheaded, freckle-faced brother (me, the author) and they'd say "And isn't Victor.... growing." Oh well. I'm a lover of music. Oh well, Fleetwood Mac, happens to be one of my all time fav-o-rite songs. Can't help about the shape I'm in I can't sing I ain't pretty and my legs are thin. Whilst true I've never had nickname, sis penned "Alfred E. Newman" on me. Funny ha ha she was. Truly.
Where ya going with all this Victor? Well, hopefully to a publisher one day. Then, being 71, who the hell knows... soon.. will I even know where I'm going?
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