Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Pig in the Parlor Or How I'm Really Shanty Irish




There were families I knew growing up who had that one room NO one was allowed in. I used to call them Museum Rooms because they were restricted. All that was needed was a red velvet rope. You could look but not touch. This was the same rule they applied at the RISD museum as well that had ropes and display cases. Pam's house on Liberty St, a block away, had a mother who threatened us boys with slow death if we were caught inside her house. That made us fantasize about slinging mud on her carpets. We managed to get in once but we had to swear to Pam we wouldn't touch anything. I was surprised at what I saw. No clothing on the floor, no toys spread around and the place didn't reek of ashtray. The place was organized like a calculus equation. “Who lives like this...it's like a kind of  Hell.” I thought. Her Mom's parlor looked like something out of 70's MasterPiece theatre that PBS ran.



These parlor rooms, were for showing off your “arrival” to a bit higher middle class society. You used them to entertain anyone higher on the ladder than you. Should the local parish priest drop by, get out the good coffee, maybe some Lorna Doone cookies and invite him to sit on the plastic protected couch you got from Ethan Allen. Perhaps some Glade spray to get rid of the stink of dog before he comes in as well.



We...my house...didn't have any such room. In fact, all of the rooms looked like a Hollywood special effects hurricane fan had been turned on. Our home was cluttered and disheveled. Mind you though, there were no mushrooms growing from the couches, no free ranging cockroaches either. We were clutterers but not grubby pigs. There was, however, a pungent smell of Newport cigarettes my Dad and Mom inhaled ad infinitum. This was when cigarettes weren't vilified like they are today. I think our ceilings were “antique bone” color from the original ceiling white that was once applied, thanks to the tar and nicotine. No amount of Glade was going to conceal that miasma.



As a kid, I knew I really didn't want to invite anyone inside for a couple of reasons. One, the obvious mess the place was and the fact I couldn't really predict what mood my Mom would be in that day. Why give first person account fodder for gossips? Our neighborhood was full of bored, stay-at-home Moms who wanted the hottest slander that could be spread. And boy, did some of them love to air everyone ELSE's dirty linen! You have to love these self-appointed guardians of the neighborhood morality bitches who pronounce judgment like head cheerleaders.



This untidiness changed in a hurry after my Dad was finally installed as XO at a local bank. With that promotion, it was my Mom, not Dad, who decided it was time to move up into the world. Within a 6 months, she had managed to get him to buy newer furniture, redo the kitchen, curtains and the only improvement my Dad wanted was a circuit breaker system instead of those old fuse boxes they originally installed in the house. Once done, my Mom was satisfied and then sat in her usual spot at the kitchen table and stuck up a Newport cigarette. It was maybe then I would bring other friends over the house.



Now we were Lace Curtain Irish. Respectable, honorable and up to snuff.



In time, we cluttered all this up too. But it was a “tasteful” clutter mind you! Meaning? There was more expensive junk lying about and not in it's place. You see, the floor is really a giant shelf that many people don't utilize!



Once, after my Dad's death, we had to have an appraiser go through our house to inspect it and I was in the den, with an old styled balsa wood plane being pinned to the cardboard I had laid out on the floor. The poor guy had to gingerly step through the maze of useful junk I needed to complete it. I think my mom had the look of “busted drug dealer” all over her face, that kind of look you see on that TV show, COPS.



“Slattern Mom! Slattern Mom! Whatcha gonna do when Better Homes and Gardens come for you!”



**



Today, I can be OCD at times but that's only when I have to get things done RIGHT. No joke, I can be like this to the point you can predict what I'll do next. HOWEVER, give me some down time, some free latitude and all that goes right out the window. My kitchen table is a desk for many, many projects that don't need doing right away. Not only that, I can correctly point out which piles of paper relate to what. It's also collated with piles of documents I have on the couch! Dusting? Well, I'll get to it. Vacuuming? Well, it isn't that revolting yet. This old Behringer measurement microphone that doesn't work anymore? Well, can't throw that OUT yet! That old tuner that also won't work right at times but still can if I need it as a back up? No, it must stay! Right on the living room floor with the myriad of other audio cables I have there and that I may need in 2026!



I'm no longer lace curtain (by the way, I need new curtains too). I was Lace for about two years but I got over that! At this age, it's easy to get over. Who the hell do I need to impress now?

No comments:

Post a Comment