so we would go over this guy's house and torture the kittens, trying to decide which one was the "toughest." a little black cat with white socks bit and clawed us the hardest when mauled, so we chose him and (almost named him "Michael Jackson"- it was the days of "The Making of Thriller" movie.... he was cool then!) named him Whack-Attack (you know, he had those kitty fits... he could even run along a wall horizontally).
good old Whack-Attack. my mom moved to the country later and Whack, the morning after arriving, meowed and clawed at the door. my mom goes, "oh, he must be adjusted to being here already," and opens the door. he runs about 10 feet out the door and looks up.... at the wide-open sky above him. we had come from some very-urban neighborhoods, and I don't think he'd ever been in an open space before - certainly not one that wasn't covered with asphalt and basketball hoops. his eyes just about popped out of his head and he flattened down to the ground, looked around wildly for a couple of seconds, and then fled back inside. I don't think he went out again for about 8 weeks.
but eventually he adjusted and became quite a hunter. he used to bring my mom bits of voles, moles, mice (of course), birds, snakes and many other living beings that are supposedly critical to the ecosystem, but we seemed to do fine without them.
but that's getting away from the point of my story. that neighborhood, in addition to supplying us with a faithful kitty, also is the location of many fond memories:
*popping and breakdancing on pieces of cardboard on the sidewalk.
*making bike ramps (out of cardboard & milk crates) on the sidewalk.
*imitating the WWF by swinging on the pipes in the basement and landing on each other while rolling about on..... you guessed it, pieces of cardboard (but also an old mattress sometimes).
*learning to use the washer and dryer: Mom - "This is the washer. It has three settings. This is the dryer. It has two settings. Enjoy."
*Saturday morning chores and watching the Wheel of Fortune, Jeopardy, the Cosby show and Night Court every Thursday night.
*that creepy abandoned old jail down the block that I had to walk past on my way to and from school, which was overrun with stray cats and where we let go of our gerbils after they got to be around 30 of them.
oh - and a favorite memory: this one always makes me laugh. this neighborhood was black and hispanic - except for our family, and that one neighbor, remember him? so nobody really expected to see a white kid walking around. so I was walking down the block with my next door neighbor, Rudine. this albino guy from around the way was over across the avenue and he yelled to Rudine "HEY! Hey, Rudine! Hi! Hey, is she albino?" apparently referring to me as though I couldn't talk for myself, because I was obviously either albino or white, in either case a total freak. so she shouts back "No! She's not! She's white!" he goes, "OH! Okay!" and walks away!
and that was it people! from then on everyone in my neighborhood knew I was white and I got..... treated differently! (okay, that last part is not true. I think my neighbors had already caught on that I was white.) my point: I was INVISIBLE, people!!! he wouldn't even talk to me to my face! that's racism!!!! but I think I turned out alright.
anyway, that neighborhood is really turned around now. I went by there to see the old house the last time I was in Philly, and there are stores and cafes on the main avenue, where there used to be a dank and scary general store and a bunch of empty store fronts. the crackheads seem to be gone, and there's even a dog park (a dog park, for cryin out loud, people) along the side of the old jail. they even cleaned up the jail and give tours there now. I think it was too expensive to tear down, so finally they decided it was old enough to be historic and got rid of all the cats.
but anyway, back to my original point: that guy, our neighbor, remember? his phone number was (215) BEA-MONK.
get it? be a monk!!!! hahahahahahahahahahaha!
5 comentarios:
know what? id love to buy an old abandoned jail, do it up and move in!
and how exactly would that be moving on in your life? :P
Too long - didnt read.
OK - we obviously are both online more than on the phone, so I figured I'd get caught up by reading your blog. I remember that neighborhood - I used to be a bit scared walking to your house. Was there an Urban Outfitters discount/seconds warehouse there or something? I remember a huge "Colored Girls..." fabric wall hanging next to the dining room and wondered why it was there, since your mom was white. I also remember your mom making liver for dinner and gagging it down to be polite. Still like liver?
Didn't we used to go to the community Y there to swim? I remember debating who was cuter: Scott Baio(sp?) or Ricky Schroeder. So, who is it? Can't say I've seen Scott for a while, but Rick didn't turn out so well.
hi there! you're right, we're bloggers at heart, lucky for us they were invented!
I vaguely remember about an Urban Outfitters outlet, but I think that was up in Germantown by our next house? I'll have to ask my dad, he'd remember....
of course, I remember that poster, my mom had it forever. and I'm sorry my mom served you liver, haha. I do love liver, but it's not a nice thing to serve to a guest.
I don't remember that Y either, but I do remember hanging out in your awesome third floor room and listening to your beatles albums up there. I also remember getting my own phone and you were the only person I called on it - I think we talked about 2-3 hours each day ;)
ps - scott baio rules -lols
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