I grew up in Omaha, Nebraska. It was a wonderful place for a child to remain a child and grow up with typical mid-western "values". I get emails that detail a time past where we could disappear and go outside and play, ride bikes up and down the street, where you went out and found friends and if you got hurt at a neighbor's house you didn't sue them for all they were worth. It sounds hokey but that was truly my upbringing.
My brother's took me down the street and I think I was about 5ish? anyway, I had to see the cat in the window. Being my graceful self I tripped and hit the wrought iron chair and tore my lip and nose apart.
Screaming, crying and blood everywhere.
Thank goodness there was a doctor that lived close by. I still have the scar for that little adventure. Then there was the infamous potato chip bowl fiasco. I was carrying a glass bowl filled with potato chips into the family room. Of course, I tripped and went face first into the bowl.
Screaming, crying and blood everywhere.
From what I hear I wanted to be taken to a mirror so I could "see me bleed." No one was sure if the glass had gotten in my eyes and it was chaos everywhere. They ran and got the doctor from across the street and he stitched me up right there on the table.
My dad owned a drive-in restaurant in Omaha, Nebraska. It was called Tiner's which was a combination of the two partners names; Fred "Tiny" Barnes and Einer Abramson, my father. They also had a restaurant in Council Bluffs, Iowa. It was the "in" place for teens to cruise but all I remember out of the deal was the best curly-q fries that I've ever tasted. I actually think that started my quest for the perfect french fry. I still love them and can scarf them down waaay before I get them home. Actually an extra large can be wolfed down in 1 minute or less. There were also Basket Burgers and Chicken Treats. I even remember the phone number.....556-4664. Weird, the things we remember, isn't it? When I meet people from Omaha in my age group they all remember with fondness Tiner's Drive In. Quite a few of them worked there but all of them cruised there.
My family moved to Las Vegas in 1963. The move was hard. This was all I'd ever known. My friends were there and I was moving to a place where I didn't know anyone and I hated it. I was in junior high and everything was changing. To top it off I was starting after the beginning of the school year so I was very visible. Being visible wasn't comfortable for a girl who wanted to be invisible. What a difference between Omaha and Las Vegas! The girls were wearing nylons and shaved their legs! Wow! I was still in bobby sox and loafers. I wore socks and they got to wear nylons? They shaved their legs??? They shaved above the knee???? Needless to say, I didn't look cool on my first day of school and, boy, did I have a fight with my mother over that one!
Fortunately, the girl who wanted to be invisible met another girl who was also trying to fade into the background. She was 6 feet tall and fading didn't come easy. To her, she was this big, huge log and to me she was statuesque and beautiful. To me, I was a short little thing with chipmunk cheeks and to her I was a cute little imp. We blended perfectly. For many years we didn't know that we secretly wanted to be the other. We were two injured souls that were drawn to each other and limped through the body image years together. Some things don't change, we still hate the way we look. We've become more accepting but we still have issues. Thank goodness, I met her. We were more than friends; we were sisters and kindred souls.
To get around my mother, who was ADAMANT that I wasn't going to shave my legs until I was 16, my best friend gave me a shaver for a birthday present. We thought we were so slick. No one had though of that one and, of course, our parents wouldn't guess what we'd done. Yeah, right. It takes becoming a parent to see right through that one. Anyway, it wouldn't be right that I didn't use it after they bought it for me. Finally after my friends mother talked with my mother she finally gave in and allowed me to shave my legs. One caveat however; not above the knee. Oh, come on, can you see no hair on the bottom part of your legs and black hair starting at your knee upward?
Well, let me tell you that shaver slipped more than I can tell you! Hey, not my fault that I slipped and I would have to even it up so it didn't look ridiculous. That worked once and then after that it was a fight. We fought with each other like crazy through my junior high and high school years. I was a tad strong willed and I figured it was going to be my way. My parents, however, had other ideas. I'll have to give it to them. I had no idea how much they had to put up with until I had my own daughter who was just as strong willed as I.
I will tell you this; the curse works. Remember when they tell you, "Wait until you have children. I hope you have one just like you?"
I did.
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