Good Afternoon?
Yeah, it’s afternoon. I went out with Anna Arky last night. She didn’t get off work until late so we met at the Marietta Diner after midnight and spoke and spoke and spoke. She brought a friend of hers with so the 3 of us ladies just sat around and chatted. That was so much fun. But, I ended up getting home so late and wide awake so I didn’t get to bed until 6 am. It could have been worse, we could have gone out drinking and I would be amongst the millions of people with hangovers taday.
I had a great time but I fear that I may start that day/night circadian rhythm screw up thing again. Of course, I could just go back to sleep after I write this and then I’ll wake up nice and early tomorrow. OH! Church! I have to wake up early in the morning. Don’t you enjoy church? Not the getting up and getting dressed part, just being there.
When I married Vex, he never wanted to go so I let myself get out of the habit as well. But I always enjoyed church so I started going again after he left.
When I was a kid, we always lived within walking distance of our church, I think my parents did that on purpose. From their beds, they would shout, “Get ready for church! Then, “OK, everybody, go to church! They usually stayed in bed until we got back. Now that I think about it, maybe that was the only chance they had to get lucky. All 6 of us would be out of the house, safe and sound, at church. They did go occasionally, especially on Mother's Day. My mom wanted to sweep the Mother's Day awards and she usually did, “Mother with the Most Children." That was her!
It was in church that I learned the word "Woman". As one person started to go into the wrong bathroom, another shouted, “Hey! Can’t you read the sign? It says WHOA-MAN!” Looking back, it was a joke but for a while, I thought that woman was something that you said to make a man stop.
Before my cousin, Elaine, and I figured how to abuse the train system in Chicago, we used a church for our ride back and forth to each other’s houses on the weekends. Itasca Baptist Church was halfway between our houses and they had two buses. One went east to get me and one went west to get her. On Friday nights, we went to youth group and on Sunday mornings we went to Church. Friday nights one of us would go home with the other, and Sunday mornings we would each go to our own homes.
A more irreverent couple of adolescent girls, you could not find. We seemed to enjoy making each other laugh to see who was truly the funniest. Most of the time, our jokes were at the expense of other people.
One Friday evening, before the Youth Group plated Fruit Basket Upset, we were having our obligatory bible lesson. The head of the Youth Group had the misfortune of being rather funny looking so we enjoyed using him for our offensive joke fodder. One evening as he was telling us how important Jesus was, he shouted, “Jesus is the fruit of the cake!”
I couldn't hold it back: “Speaking of fruit cakes.”
It was easy and it was cheap. But we were 13 and that was funny to us. And, to everyone around us. So, we got banned from the church bus for a few weekends. That was back in the day of Cheech and Chong and George Carlin so irreverence was hip, or so we thought, anyway.
Neither one of us were Baptist so we found the proceedings rather odd and therefore, fair game. We were bad kids at times. We were the types of kids who would put a bag of dog shit in a bag and set it on fire at someone’s doorstep. WE put road kill in mailboxes and rang doorbells and ran away. Neither one of us would have done these things alone, but for some reason, we just couldn’t help ourselves when we were together. We loved to crack each other up.
When we were 12, they built a place for us kids to hang out on weekends, it was called Woodfield Mall. We had no money, but we could have fun for hours at the mall. When we were about 14, we made these fake police badges using the typewriters in the typewriter section of Sears. (That’s something you don’t see anymore!)
We would stalk the younger kids until we found one or two who were shoplifting and we would flash our fake badges and toss the kids in some “Employee Only” room and run. Ah, those were the days, having fun was so easy.
I am at an age where some degree of decorum is required but one of these days, I am going to be old enough to start being a prankster again. I will once again use my age as an excuse for my tom-foolery. There’s a saying in the geriatric business, “Once and adult, twice a child.”
I can’t wait to be a child again.
After I have my coffee, I’ll come back and tell you about when my friends and I used to use my mother’s badges to scare the crap out of people in the 70’s. Now, THAT’S entertainment.
Don't forget, tomorrow is Trivia Sunday!
See ya soon,
Meg
By the way, I'm still working on trying to get the comment thing back, it takes Blogger a while to write me back.
Yeah, it’s afternoon. I went out with Anna Arky last night. She didn’t get off work until late so we met at the Marietta Diner after midnight and spoke and spoke and spoke. She brought a friend of hers with so the 3 of us ladies just sat around and chatted. That was so much fun. But, I ended up getting home so late and wide awake so I didn’t get to bed until 6 am. It could have been worse, we could have gone out drinking and I would be amongst the millions of people with hangovers taday.
I had a great time but I fear that I may start that day/night circadian rhythm screw up thing again. Of course, I could just go back to sleep after I write this and then I’ll wake up nice and early tomorrow. OH! Church! I have to wake up early in the morning. Don’t you enjoy church? Not the getting up and getting dressed part, just being there.
When I married Vex, he never wanted to go so I let myself get out of the habit as well. But I always enjoyed church so I started going again after he left.
When I was a kid, we always lived within walking distance of our church, I think my parents did that on purpose. From their beds, they would shout, “Get ready for church! Then, “OK, everybody, go to church! They usually stayed in bed until we got back. Now that I think about it, maybe that was the only chance they had to get lucky. All 6 of us would be out of the house, safe and sound, at church. They did go occasionally, especially on Mother's Day. My mom wanted to sweep the Mother's Day awards and she usually did, “Mother with the Most Children." That was her!
It was in church that I learned the word "Woman". As one person started to go into the wrong bathroom, another shouted, “Hey! Can’t you read the sign? It says WHOA-MAN!” Looking back, it was a joke but for a while, I thought that woman was something that you said to make a man stop.
Before my cousin, Elaine, and I figured how to abuse the train system in Chicago, we used a church for our ride back and forth to each other’s houses on the weekends. Itasca Baptist Church was halfway between our houses and they had two buses. One went east to get me and one went west to get her. On Friday nights, we went to youth group and on Sunday mornings we went to Church. Friday nights one of us would go home with the other, and Sunday mornings we would each go to our own homes.
A more irreverent couple of adolescent girls, you could not find. We seemed to enjoy making each other laugh to see who was truly the funniest. Most of the time, our jokes were at the expense of other people.
One Friday evening, before the Youth Group plated Fruit Basket Upset, we were having our obligatory bible lesson. The head of the Youth Group had the misfortune of being rather funny looking so we enjoyed using him for our offensive joke fodder. One evening as he was telling us how important Jesus was, he shouted, “Jesus is the fruit of the cake!”
I couldn't hold it back: “Speaking of fruit cakes.”
It was easy and it was cheap. But we were 13 and that was funny to us. And, to everyone around us. So, we got banned from the church bus for a few weekends. That was back in the day of Cheech and Chong and George Carlin so irreverence was hip, or so we thought, anyway.
Neither one of us were Baptist so we found the proceedings rather odd and therefore, fair game. We were bad kids at times. We were the types of kids who would put a bag of dog shit in a bag and set it on fire at someone’s doorstep. WE put road kill in mailboxes and rang doorbells and ran away. Neither one of us would have done these things alone, but for some reason, we just couldn’t help ourselves when we were together. We loved to crack each other up.
When we were 12, they built a place for us kids to hang out on weekends, it was called Woodfield Mall. We had no money, but we could have fun for hours at the mall. When we were about 14, we made these fake police badges using the typewriters in the typewriter section of Sears. (That’s something you don’t see anymore!)
We would stalk the younger kids until we found one or two who were shoplifting and we would flash our fake badges and toss the kids in some “Employee Only” room and run. Ah, those were the days, having fun was so easy.
I am at an age where some degree of decorum is required but one of these days, I am going to be old enough to start being a prankster again. I will once again use my age as an excuse for my tom-foolery. There’s a saying in the geriatric business, “Once and adult, twice a child.”
I can’t wait to be a child again.
After I have my coffee, I’ll come back and tell you about when my friends and I used to use my mother’s badges to scare the crap out of people in the 70’s. Now, THAT’S entertainment.
Don't forget, tomorrow is Trivia Sunday!
See ya soon,
Meg
By the way, I'm still working on trying to get the comment thing back, it takes Blogger a while to write me back.
posted by Meg Kelso | 12:36 PM
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