Downtown

We lived close to downtown, at the base of the Highlands, three blocks from City Hall Square. All my time at St. Marys Grammar, I walked home for lunch. By the time I was in 8th grade there were 5 in school and 2 at home. Everyday 12:05 we arrive en masse for chow. No wonder my mother was nuts. Then 30 minutes later it was out the door and back to school.

My Mothers life consisted of producing, caring for and feeding a small mob for well over 30 years. Ironing. Laundry. Cleaning. Every meal. Every stitch of clothes. All of it. For year after year.

My Father worked. Full time a 48 hour week. Night shifts/day shifts/swing shifts/rotating shifts. Holidays, weekends, every day scheduled.

It wasn't enough. The arguments about money were legion. There just wasn't enough. My dad was a college grad and capable of more so sayeth his wife and her Mother. He paid for his love of firefighting and his lack of earning capacity by being subjected to some scorching criticism. The word Harpy, comes to mind.

I remember an incident with Nan, where she opined that I would turn out, "just like my dad." A pejorative to be sure. I think I told her to shut up about my dad. She clubbed me with the bone hand for my troubles.

Beating me was not going to make my Dad any more money. I think Nan emasculated my Dad because my Grandad slapped her around when he got in his cups. The old shit rolls down hill syndrome. In this way, I also learned, it was OK for me to smack my little brother around.

Neat lessons about ambition and the cost of living.