Skip to main content

In This Corner...

   I was in sixth grade when my mother nearly got me killed. After school, I was followed home by Tammy Kelly and her posse of dirty blond delinquents almost every day. My mom worked at the post office right next to where the school bus dropped us off and she usually didn’t get home until around 4:30, which gave me plenty of time to regroup after the tough girls chased me home.
   My mom didn’t work Wednesdays though, and this particular Wednesday she happened to be watching out our front room window while Tammy and her bigger-boned best friend Charlotte West taunted me all the way to the carport.
   “Hey, lard ass, you gonna go home and lick your plate clean tonight? I bet you lick everybody’s plate dont’cha?” Tammy yelled. “Yeah, I bet you eat all the scraps they feed the dog,” Charlotte said laughing. She was a real Carol Burnett.  
   I naturally countered this with silence. I wasn’t about to dignify their crude remarks with an answer. Someone of my superior intellect who was in the highest level reading group wasn’t about to stoop to their level. Besides, I never came up with a response until I was alone at night in bed, eyes staring up at the wire mesh bottom on my sister’s top bunk. “Yeah, well at least I have a home to go to. At least we get supper. At least I’m not a bastard like you. At least I have a dog. At least my parents make sure I have a winter coat. That’s right.”
   This particular Wednesday I was glad to see my mother opening the front door as I was coming down the driveway to safety. She’d come out and tell those girls off. She’d call the police the next time they bothered me. She’d call their parents and be sure they got sent to reform school for harassing me. I felt like the drowning man who’d been tossed a life jacket.
   “Hey you girls,” my mom yelled out to them as she came out the front door. “Which one of youse wants to fight first?”
   Wow, I thought, she’s actually going to kick their asses.
   Tammy and Charlotte looked at each other and didn’t answer.
   “Get over here,” my mom motioned me over. I walked over, not in a hurry exactly. “This is the last goddamn time these girls chase you home,” she said under her breath.
   “Which one of youse is going first? Connie here is ready to fight yas right here and now. Right in the front yard. Come on girls, who’s it gonna be?” my fearless mother asked.
   Tammy and Charlotte looked at each other, looked at my mother like she was crazy, and then looked back at each other again.
   “Oh, I get it,” my mom said. “You girls are too scared to fight. You’re all talk. Tell you what, next time you want to fight you come right on over and Connie here will fight you right in this front yard. She’ll be glad to and she’ll kick both your asses one at a time. Now get the hell outta here and I don’t want see you around here again unless you plan on fightin’.”
   Oh my God. She was serious. I don’t know who I was more afraid of, the two girls or my own mother.
   Apparently Tammy and Charlotte were scared of her too because they took off down the street.
   “Now get your ass in the house,” my mom said to me. “That’s how you get rid of a bully.”

   Switzerland is a place where people don't like to fight, so they get people to do their fighting for them while they ski and eat chocolate.  - Larry David


Popular posts from this blog

Getting well takes baby steps

So I’ve had what you could call a case of the pneumonia. It was not pleasant. And to top it off it happened in San Antonio, Texas. Like I wasn’t sweating before the fever.
I was there to see my niece Michelle, who by the way kept asking me, “Are you going to write about this?” which is funny because she’s a writer too. I naturally said, “Oh no, of course not.” And here we are.
Thinking back, the best part of that trip teeters between meeting my two great-nephews, Oliver and Isaac, and having a couple of beers with their Yaya, my sister, who I haven’t had beers with in decades. Like I said, it’s a toss-up. There’s also the fact that I got to spend time with my niece’s husband Alex. He’s a hardcore military guy. He teaches other military guys how to be military policemen. I’m not going to gamble on writing anything about him. He’s from Wisconsin though, which I like. And he likes to cook, which I also like.
I thought to myself before I ever left my nice cocoon of Martha’s Vineyard to tra…

Just sitting around doing jack

I think my blog may have been hijacked. I haven’t written in forever because I’ve been writing …for my job, which may mean I’m no longer a “jobless goddess.” I may just be a regular goddess.
I love the word jack. I could use that all day. Whatever, hopefully those who want to read the blog will read. Back to jack. It’s a cool freaking word. I had a brother-in-law named Jack who pretty much personified the word “cool.” He’s gone too soon and missed by everybody.
There’s Billy Jack, get back Jack, Jack Sprat, Jack Nicholson, Jack Berry, Jack in the Box, Jumping Jack Flash. And my favorite, a little ditty my sister introduced me to, “Jack Mother.” This is a something you say when someone cuts you off on the highway. “I’m sorry officer, I was cut off by that Jack Mother in the blue Subaru.”
My brother Steve has a friend named Jack. I thought he was about the greatest thing ever when I was 12. Who are we kidding? I probably still do. Jackie was hilariously funny and I loved to watch my brot…

Little women

I’m getting a real kick out of my co-workers these days. I’m working with about a half dozen young women — young being the operative word.
They’re all so freaking competent it kills me. They can write like it’s nobody’s business, they all take great photos to go with their stories, and they almost always laugh at my jokes. I call them ‘the girls.’
They’re either about to go to university, just leaving university, or all done with it and on their way. They do yoga and eat a lot of avocados. We live on Martha’s Vineyard and none of them know who John Belushi is but they all know they should keep using the same plastic cup for take out iced coffee over and over and over again. If they see a bug, they think twice before killing it. Actually they leave it for me to kill because they couldn’t possibly… and they know I won’t hesitate.
We get along just fine the girls and me. Oh, there’s a little trouble when I insist on running the window air conditioner up in our second floor office —ramsha…