THE VIEW FROM WEST BLOOMFIELD
For whatever it’s worth (surely nothing), I would say the spawn of all my various siblings came out pretty well.
JillZ seems fine despite the life-long pariah of no genetic father. She benefited from the cheering-section comprised of her mother.
44 seems to be doing well, if a bit timid, and had nothing to buck. Unlike me he’s able to talk to his father; who doesn’t deem him unworthy — or someone to dump on.
Seems not too long ago Peg was telling us she wasn’t gonna require Adam to drive like a maniac to meet an 11 p.m. getting-home deadline, remembering her dangerous attempts to meet my father’s 11 p.m. deadline.
The jury is still out on Rachle-a-Randi (neither misspelling matters), but they seem okay. Hardly the threat I was perceived as.
So it seems all the spawn of my siblings benefited from “I’m not gonna be like my (‘blessed’) parents.”
And it seems an entire generation benefited by reversal of the indignities suffered by we boomers. We had to walk to school barefoot in snow eight inches deep, and uphill both ways.
Now the kids wait for the schoolbus out at the end of the driveway in mom’s heated minivan. And we didn’t have no schoolbus either. Kids in Bloomfield are riding to school in town in a schoolbus. —Brandywine was almost three miles away, and we walked. We walked to Della Twip in Erlton too, until the Erlton parents hired a charter schoolbus on their own — which was because we were walking main roads without sidewalks: a tragedy waiting to happen.
But of course I know absolutely NOTHING; utterly clueless — reprehensible too. My attempts to give my siblings enough self-esteem to survive my parents are nothing.
They wouldn’t be who they are but for my intervention: e.g. the infamous incident where MD stormed upstairs and slammed her door.
But of course I was uncaring and thoughtless; an utter sinner. REPUBLICAN ALERT!
JillZ seems fine despite the life-long pariah of no genetic father. She benefited from the cheering-section comprised of her mother.
44 seems to be doing well, if a bit timid, and had nothing to buck. Unlike me he’s able to talk to his father; who doesn’t deem him unworthy — or someone to dump on.
Seems not too long ago Peg was telling us she wasn’t gonna require Adam to drive like a maniac to meet an 11 p.m. getting-home deadline, remembering her dangerous attempts to meet my father’s 11 p.m. deadline.
The jury is still out on Rachle-a-Randi (neither misspelling matters), but they seem okay. Hardly the threat I was perceived as.
So it seems all the spawn of my siblings benefited from “I’m not gonna be like my (‘blessed’) parents.”
And it seems an entire generation benefited by reversal of the indignities suffered by we boomers. We had to walk to school barefoot in snow eight inches deep, and uphill both ways.
Now the kids wait for the schoolbus out at the end of the driveway in mom’s heated minivan. And we didn’t have no schoolbus either. Kids in Bloomfield are riding to school in town in a schoolbus. —Brandywine was almost three miles away, and we walked. We walked to Della Twip in Erlton too, until the Erlton parents hired a charter schoolbus on their own — which was because we were walking main roads without sidewalks: a tragedy waiting to happen.
But of course I know absolutely NOTHING; utterly clueless — reprehensible too. My attempts to give my siblings enough self-esteem to survive my parents are nothing.
They wouldn’t be who they are but for my intervention: e.g. the infamous incident where MD stormed upstairs and slammed her door.
But of course I was uncaring and thoughtless; an utter sinner. REPUBLICAN ALERT!
posted by BobbaLew at 7:18 AM
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