Standing in the Rainbow (53 page)

A concerned citizen

Mrs. Tot Whooten

P.S. Watch out for flying fish.

Mothe
r
’s Day

I
n the spring of 1970, among the radio shows that featured mostly teenage music, right after
Tops in Pops
,
The Neighbor Dorothy Show
could still be heard over station WDOT.

Except for the fact that Mother Smith was gone and Dorothy was almost all gray now, the show remained the same. Her voice was still as warm and friendly, a welcome relief from the blaring rock and roll that played the rest of the day and night.

“Good morning, everybody,” said Neighbor Dorothy. “I don’t know what’s happening where you are but it seems everybody here has come down with a full-blown case of old-fashioned spring fever. And I can’t blame them—this is such a pretty, warm April and I hope it is the same where you are. I’ve never seen so many jonquils popping up everywhere. And pretty soon Mother’s Day will be upon us and if you’re wondering what to get Mother this year, think about giving her a gift that sings. A canary of her very own for the parlor or kitchen, to start her day on a cheery note. I can recommend that from experience. I can’t tell you how much joy my two precious birds, Dumpling and Moe, gave me over the years. Or if she already has a canary, you might think about getting her Rittenhouse door chimes and remember, Rittenhouse door chimes are always pleasant to the ear and a lovely way to say that company is at your door. And let’s see what else . . . we received another postcard from our tin-can tourists . . . the Goodnight sisters . . . and I wish you could see this one. They are both sitting on ostriches. It comes from the Corn Blough Ostrich farm in Kalamazoo—I tell you, those girls have no fear.

“. . . If any of you folks are traveling in or around Lebanon, Missouri, and need a place to stay, don’t forget Nelson’s Dream Village Motor Court. . . . Stop in and see and hear the electrical and musical fountain. Spend a cool night in the Ozark Mountains on U.S. Highway Number 66 . . . the gateway to the South and the West. . . . Nelson’s Dream Village—strictly modern, fireproof, individual bungalows where children stay free.

“And speaking of children. I got the sweetest letter from Bobby and Lois and I am happy to report that grandson Michael is now an Eagle Scout. I would have given anything to be there to see it. It’s so hard to realize that both my children live so far away and no matter how old they get they are still our babies, aren’t they? When I see Bobby now I can hardly believe that he runs such a big company. I know he is a grown man with children of his own but to me he’s still my little Bobby and she is still my little girl Anna Lee, who, hold on to your hat, called me last night and reported that she might be getting ready to be a grandmother herself and make Doc and I great-grandparents.” Dorothy laughed. “I told Doc I hope it happens because it will be the first time I’ve ever been great at anything.

“Later on in the program we will be having a talk from Gertrude Hazelette entitled ‘The Superior Way to Crack Hickory Nuts’ . . . but first let me ask you this: Are there any more pack rats out there besides me? Every year when I do my spring cleaning I go up in the attic, determined to clean it out and throw out all that old stuff that does nothing but sit up there and collect dust and every time . . . I always wind up not throwing a thing away. . . . I sit there and so many pleasant memories come back with each and every thing I pick up. I know I should give all of it away, but I just don’t have the heart. . . . Oh well . . . maybe next year . . .”

Empty Nest

N
ORMA
W
ARREN
was getting ready to have her daughter leave home for the first time and she was not at all happy about it. When their daughter, Linda, graduated from high school, she immediately went to work for AT&T. On career day the representatives had come to school trying to recruit women, in particular, for management training. They needed a quota of women now that the federal
and
the state governments were paying attention. Aunt Elner’s niece by marriage, Mary Grace, had a good job at the telephone company in St. Louis and put in a good word for her. When Linda was chosen, Norma was disappointed. “I wish you’d think about going to college for at least two years, if nothing else. I wish I hadn’t gotten married so young. I wish I had gone to college.”

“I know, Mother, but think about the great opportunity this is. I’m going to be trained for a top job. Why waste four years in college when I can already be working and making good money?”

“But, honey, think of the fun you’ll miss—the sororities, the dating, living in the dorm with all the other girls.”

“People don’t do all that anymore and I can have just as much fun making money. If you weigh all the options, Mother, it’s really the most logical and practical thing to do.”

“You’re too young to be logical and practical. You must get that from your daddy. I was never practical or logical. Maybe I should have been more like you. I just got married and didn’t learn a thing. If something happens to your daddy, I’ll probably wind up as someone’s maid or cook—that’s all I know how to do. I don’t have any skills but cooking and cleaning.”

“Oh, Mother, you do too. Real cooking is a skill.”

“No, it’s not,” Norma said. “Any old person can cook.”

“I can’t,” said Linda.

“You never really tried. You know your daddy is going to be
very
upset that you’re not going to college.”

“No, he’s not. He thinks it’s a great idea.”

“How do
you
know?”

“Because I went down to the store and showed him the letter.”

“When?”

“This morning.”

“Before you showed me?”

“Well, I wanted to see what he thought. And he said I should do it.”

“Oh, I see, so as usual you and he have decided—I’m just out of the loop, I don’t count.”

“Oh, Mother . . .”

“Well, it’s true. I don’t know why you bother to tell me anything. I might as well be a knob on the door for all you two care. Why did you bother to ask me? You’re going to do what your daddy says, you always do.”

“Mother, you know that’s not true. And if you’re so dead set against it, I won’t go.”

“Sure, and if you don’t go you’ll never let me live it down. I was just hoping you would be a little closer to home, that’s all, not too far away.”

Linda said, “So that’s what is really worrying you.”

“Why shouldn’t it? I’m a normal mother.”

“But you don’t have to worry. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you think I am going to let you go up to some big city full of gangs and white slavers and not worry?”

“Oh, Mother, there aren’t any white slavers in San Francisco.”

“You don’t know. I look at television and I see things. Barbara Walters just had a piece about some Russian girls that got mixed up with white slavers. It still goes on, don’t kid yourself.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “And here I thought you would be on some safe college campus for four years.”

“Mother.”

“I hope you carry a gun in your purse, that’s all I can say. People are getting knocked in the head right and left. I hope you know I won’t sleep for the next four years!”

An hour later Linda called Macky.

“Daddy, you’re going to have to talk to Mother—she’s having a fit about me getting knocked in the head or getting kidnapped by white slavers.”

Macky said, “I figured as much. Has she said anything about earthquakes yet?”

“No, not yet, but I’m sure as soon as she has time to think, it will be next.”

As expected, later that night Norma sat in the kitchen with Macky. “I just don’t know what’s wrong with those people at the telephone company. Expecting a young girl to go all the way to San Francisco all by herself.”

“She’s going to be with a whole
bunch
of people her age that will be in training with her.”

Norma’s eyes blinked wide open. “
San Francisco!
Oh my God, what about earthquakes!”

Macky got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. It was going to be a long night.

“I’m going to have a series of small strokes over this, I just know it.”

“Norma, I wish you would just stop worrying over every damn thing. You are going to drive yourself crazy.”

“I can’t help it, I’m a worrier. My mother was a worrier and so am I. I was nervous as a child. I was nervous as a teenager. I’ve always been nervous. You knew I was nervous when you married me. I told you I was nervous.”

“Yes, but I thought you would get over it after the first twenty years.”

“You have never been nervous a minute in your life, so you don’t know what it’s like, so don’t sit there and tell me to just get over it. You act as if it’s something I want to do. I guess you think I wake up every morning and say, Oh boy, I just can’t wait to be a nervous wreck all day and worry myself to death about everybody and just about jump out of my skin every time the phone rings, it’s such fun. Honestly, Macky, I wish you would try and understand. You and Aunt Elner are just alike; neither one of you has a nerve in your body. I wish I could be like that but I can’t. I guess it’s just part of nature. Some animals are nervous and some aren’t. I don’t know why, but I am sure the Good Lord had his reasons. You can’t change people’s nature. You can’t say to a bird, Be more like a cow.”

“All right, Norma, you’ve made your point.”

“Or a lion to be like a monkey.”

“O.K., Norma, all I was suggesting is that you might have more fun if you could relax more.”

“Don’t you think I know that? You think you’re telling me something I don’t know? I wish I could just let the house go to pot, let you and Aunt Elner and Linda do what you want. What if Linda wants to go off to a big city and live around killers and rapists, so what? You want to jump on and off roller coasters at your age, so what? Aunt Elner wants to leave her house wide open all night so anybody can come traipsing in and out and murder her in her bed, so what?”

“I know, but, Norma, you’re like Chicken Little, running around always thinking the sky’s falling. Do you think that your worrying can prevent anything from happening? Whatever happens is supposed to happen and whatever doesn’t, isn’t.”

Norma looked at him like she could kill him. “Well, thank you, Macky, that’s a big help. I’ll remember to tell you that the next time you are worried about something.”

After Linda had left for San Francisco, Aunt Elner called Norma and said, “Norma, do you know what’s the matter with you? You’re an empty nester.”

“What?”

“I read it in the
Reade
r
’s Digest
and I think you’ve got empty-nest syndrome. I think that’s why you are so depressed and moping around. It says the symptoms are a feeling that your life is over, a feeling of uselessness. I see the signs as clear as day.”

“What signs?”

“You can’t fool me. Every time you come over here I know you’re just itching to clean my house. What you need is a hobby. Listen, the
Reade
r
’s Digest
says, and I quote, are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“ ‘The antidote to empty-nest syndrome is the following or a combination thereof. . . . Get up out of the house and make new friends, get new hobbies, donate your time to some civic cause, go on a second honeymoon with your husband.’ ”

“A second honeymoon? We never had the first one. Now I’m due two. Go on, what else?”

“Go out to eat at least once a week or take a dance class.”

Norma had to admit that what Aunt Elner said was true. She had been feeling useless and she had been itching to clean Aunt Elner’s house from top to bottom. But she did not want to take a dance class, or eat out once a week. There was no place to go now that the cafeteria had closed except Howard Johnson, and just how many fried clams can one eat? And she knew Macky would never shut down the hardware store to go on a second honeymoon. She supposed her only recourse was to search for a cause, but finding a cause in Elmwood Springs would not be easy. Everybody seemed to have what they wanted.

Tin-Can Tourists, 1974