ESSAYS
Another Phone Call and Another Red CarMIAMI BEACH, FL 22 September 2008 |
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Victor was a Retinal Surgeon and was constantly on call because he was the only Retinal Surgeon for a large area. If you detach your retina, you need to have it operated on relatively quickly for the result to be optimized. Also, he was on call for ruptured globes and other catastrophic injuries that needed immediate attention.
I answered the phone when it rang.
“This is the mobile operator,” a woman’s voice said.
“Just a second, I’ll get the doctor for you,” I answered and handed the phone to Victor.
“There’s an emergency, Honey,” I said to Victor.
At first I wasn’t paying any attention except to see if he had to rush in for surgery. But then he started saying things that really didn’t make any sense to me.
“No, that’s not possible. My son is in Saint Louis,” he said.
“There must be some mistake,” he said.
Then there was some silence on his side where he seemed to be listening very carefully. I could not decipher the look on his face. It began as a puzzled look and morphed into a look that I think might precede a stroke.
“Uh huh. Uh huh. He was where? He was doing what, again? The Jimmy? Uh huh. What can we do now? Yes, I can take down these numbers. Hold on while I get a pen,” he said.
When Victor hung up the phone he said that that was not the mobile operator. That was the Mobile, Alabama operator. (In my defense, they say “mo-bill” not “mo-beel” in Alabama and I was not aware of that.) Lonny was not in St. Louis helping out with "Freshman Camp", he, instead, was arrested in Mobile, Alabama trying to buy marijuana from an undercover officer.
He was arrested with a boy named “Tricky.” I swear I am not making any of this up. I realize that this boy’s name might cause you to question this. I promise. This boy was named “Tricky.” Lonny met “Tricky” at Wash. U., but it turns out he wasn’t actually a student there. He did however have a good lead on where one could purchase marijuana. A bunch of Lonny’s friends got together and raised a sum of money to send with Lonny and “Tricky” to Alabama to obtain enough marijuana for all of them to have some to share. Since Lonny had the use of our red Jimmy, he offered to drive there. (Back in the dark ages, when Victor and I were in College and still entertained ourselves in a similar fashion on the occasional weekend, you could obtain the necessary supply a maximum of two blocks away. Perhaps during Lonny's college days it was more difficult to find and you had to drive cross-country. What do I know?)
“Lonny is helping out at Freshman Camp,” I insisted.
“Irene, pay attention,” Victor said. "Lonny lied to us. He is in jail in Mobile, Alabama."
“Huh,” I said.
I ran over to my friend Marcia’s house. Marcia is the smartest person in the world. Whenever one of the kids had a question we couldn’t answer, he or she would say: “Let’s call Marcia!” That was the way to find things out before the advent of the home computer. Call Marcia.
Marcia can to this day answer ANY question. She is a Harvard-trained lawyer. Marcia took over. Nothing ever rattled Marcia. She just took charge. She found us a lawyer ON A WEEKEND in Mobile, Alabama to help figure out what we could do with Lonny, our jailbird son. The lawyer she found was perfect for the job. He was from Mobile and his name was exemplary: Thomas Jefferson Dean, Esq.
It turns out that Lonny had tried to buy only a small amount of dope, but the undercover police kept insisting that he should buy much more. I would tell you the amounts, if I remembered, however, if it has to do with numbers, it is forever jumbled in my brain. Apparently the charge is a much better one for the Police if they can get someone to buy over a certain amount. “Tricky” kept telling Lonny that it made sense to buy more. It was cost-effective. Lonny kept insisting that he didn’t want any more. Finally the Undercover Police revealed themselves not as bona fide dope-dealers but, shockingly, as Policemen. They then arrested Lonny on the spot.
Lonny promptly dropped on the ground and started vomiting. He vomited for so long that we heard from Thomas Jefferson Dean, Esq. that the Police started to worry and seriously considered bringing him to the hospital before dropping him off at the jail. It seems they were hot to arrest him, but wanted him alive for the arrest. Less paperwork.
Thomas Jefferson Dean, Esq. told us after speaking with Lonny and the Police that he could get the Judge to reduce the charges against Lonny because the Police were trying to get him to buy more than he wanted. That was not a kosher thing to do. He said that there was, unfortunately, nothing he could do to stop Lonny’s spending a day or two in one of Mobile, Alabama’s fine incarceration facilities.
Eventually, Lonny was given a huge fine, which WE paid, and the Mobile Police department confiscated OUR beautiful red Jimmy because it was used in the commission of a crime. He was told he could not enter any portion of Alabama for ten full years. (You might have noticed that so far the only thing Lonny had to live with was 10 years without the State of Alabama.)
Thomas Jefferson Dean, Esq. wanted us to send Lonny an airline ticket to come home. We thought that was very amusing.
“An airline ticket?” we said. “Put him on a Greyhound Bus and let him think about what has happened all the way home. He’ll have to get used to riding a bus now anyway.”
When Lonny finally got home he described his time in the pokey. The Police had put him in a room that I think is referred to as a “drunk-tank.” It was filled with huge, Southern men. (Everyone is huge to us in our family. We're pretty small.) Lonny was terrified, but the other inmates treated him sort of like a pet. They were particularly nice to Lonny. One kind gentleman came over and said:
“Don’t worry, little white boy. It’ll be alright.”
Lonny was expecting an entirely different outcome for this trip to Alabama, so all this being arrested and thrown in jail stuff made him pretty tearful.
Lonny had been issued paper slippers. A man came over to him and indicated that they should exchange slippers. Lonny was quick to oblige. He was ready to do anything that kept him on a friendly basis with his new comrades.
At mealtime in jail, it turns out that some kinds of food were preferable to other kinds.
“You want those meats?” someone always asked.
“No, you can have my meats,” he offered. He assured us that he had no idea what kind of “meats” they were, but he had seriously lost his appetite when he was arrested. His “meats” were theirs for the asking, at every meal.
There were few people he could understand. The Southern accent in the jail was thick and so different from anything Lonny had ever heard before that most of the men could well have been speaking Martian. Here is where we learned that despite his recent activities, Lonny actually was quite smart, somewhere down deep. He explained to his fellow inmates that he couldn’t hear what they were saying to him because he was almost totally deaf. They tried speaking louder, but finally gave up when Lonny kept reiterating that he just couldn’t hear what they were saying. Lonny couldn’t decipher the accent and had no idea what they were saying when they spoke to him. Acting deaf kept him from insulting their accents, which the little white boy in no way wanted to do.
Lonny eventually went back to school, by bus. His right to use of one of our cars was forfeited when he committed a crime using our red Jimmy thus losing it to the City of Mobile, Alabama, where someone is probably still driving it today.
88 Comments »
Comment by Marcia |Edit ThisWhat’s really important about this story is that you used a “thin” photo of me!
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisDon’t be ridiculous, this is how you always look!
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisSorry I used “retinal surgeon” twice in the first sentence. Bad writing. I thought I proof-read.
I know you’re supposed to be able to fix things, but I’m so new at this I think the whole site might explode if I try to fix it. Apologies.
I remember this incident quite well. I was out of town at the time. Sadly, it is all true. Fortunately, these incidents are far in the past, and Lonny will have a great story to tell his grandchildren when they think that he is stodgy.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisVery good point, George! Lonny, as you well know, is only one of five children with shady pasts. (If you look back a bit, their parents are sort of shady, too.) It’s amazing how things turnout alright somehow, most of the time.
Comment by ksw |Edit Thiswhy do you think they call it dope?
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOh ksw, THAT is an easy one! Lob me one that’s harder, I’m no tenderfoot!
Comment by jmb |Edit ThisHe was told he could not enter any portion of Alabama for ten full years.
If they keep rewarding misdemeanors why would anyone have any incentive to stop breaking the law?
Love your stories, loved that you made him ride a Greyhound bus home from Alabama.
Ha ha - I concur with JMB.
Not about the bus thing tho’… that was just mean.
lol
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisReally Josie? After lying to us, getting arrested, making us pay a huge fine and losing our car you think he should have gotten an airline ticket for a comfortable ride home?
I STILL think we were right on THAT move.
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisShadowman, This is precisely what I thought. Until this point the only reason Lonny could find to go there at all was the incredible deal on marijuana. He didn’t find it difficult at all to totally avoid the state. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t been back since.
We had a friend there who taught at the University of Alabama and we went to visit him. It is a really gorgeous state. One of the prettiest. You just have to be on the right side of the law when you go there.
If I’d had MY way at that point in time, he would have WALKED back to Illinois! I was first terrified and that changed into FURIOUS once I knew he was safe. Let that little white boy walk home and wear the soles off his little paper shoes! Victor was the kinder one. I wanted blood on the soles of his feet.
Comment by Phat B |Edit ThisThomas Jefferson Dean, Esq. Indeed. Did he look anything like my avatar?
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisI’ll bet he did. I never got to actually see him. We’ll ask Lonny if he pipes in here.
This is AWESOME, Irene! OMG, I totally want to come and hang out with your family so I can go bail someone out of jail in Alabama, or throw a bong out a window on a joyride. You Zions know how to have a good time downstate! I am totally cracking up. Lonny obviously has inherited your intelligence in claiming to be deaf. Well done!
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisThe poor thing, (you see how time has transformed my opinions about things?) was so afraid he would insult someone. I thought pretending to be deaf under all that pressure is brilliant! Lonny had hardly ever been out of the Midwest and everyone sounds the same there, like the newscasters on TV. I don’t think either Victor or I had any effect on their intelligence. They are all mutants.
I rode a bus across America in one of my road travels. Kinda fun, except having to sleep sitting up for three days. Great storytelling. I think you inspired me to tell one of my road stories other than the Thick White Crust stuff…
By the way, can you ask Marsha to find me an agent. She seems to know how to contact every dark corner of America. I can even throw in a red Jimmy. If I can hotwire one.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisI’m sure Lonny has stories about the bus ride too. He only told us the parts that exploded out of his head without his control. It was pretty traumatizing for him and for us too. Still hoping for his appearance here….
I’ll ask Marcia, but Lenore and I are on the top of her list. Sorry, we’ve been friends for eons.
What’s with the tousled gray hair and the serious look and the natty blue dress shirt and tie? Who are you, really?
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisNL? You can wire a car? That is impressive! I don’t have the slightest clue how to do anything like that.
You already have published books! You probably have agents FIGHTING over you! You certainly should, in my opinion.
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Comment by Melissa (Irene's friend) |Edit ThisOk Irene…..you trumped me I have nothing.
Ok except I did learn how to make a bong out of a beer can this weekend.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisTHIS weekend? What are you doing, Melissa? You’re a grown-up!
Comment by Melissa (Irene's friend) |Edit ThisI am? I had my cousin visit me. She was always getting me into mischief. I could never do these things when I was a teen. I told you my dad always told me he would break my fingers.. and I believed me. My brother however did not.
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisYou can only get into mischief if you are a teenager or you are demented. Those are the rules!
Now your dad is going to break your fingers! You KNOW he’ll find out!
Comment by Melissa (Irene's friend) |Edit ThisHe will never find out……she did the bong. I did the vodka. Much easier and and just in my freezer. No need to go to Mo-bile.
Melissa
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOkay. I was about to dial your Dad and tell on you, but since you didn’t actually USE the bong, you’re officially off the hook!
I remember when dad got off the phone he said to me:
“Lenore, your brother fucked up.”
good times.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisAnd you have to admit, Dad NEVER used that language. This was a big thing. That’s why you remember it.
Comment by Tim |Edit ThisYou know, I can’t remember when this happened. I know that it did. I remember talking about it for years afterwards. Funny how memory works.
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Comment by Irene Zion |Edit ThisSheesh. You were right there and it was intense. Everyone was hysterical with worry. Probably it was too scary for you to remember.
Comment by Adam |Edit ThisSorry, Irene. I’m not sharing any jail stories.
I did love the “Mobile operator” portion, though.
And I’m resolving now to start monitoring my language for the sake of both general and emergent potency.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisYou DO that, Adam. Since Victor never used a purple word in his life, his use of the aforementioned word left an impression that lasted for years among his children.
(They Do say “mo -bill” and not “mo-beel” I swear. So far I am only writing true stories, although one day I will surprise you all. (Probably not soon, though, since there are so many TRUE tales to tell!)
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisWait, Adam. Does that mean you HAVE jail stories, but you do not wish to share them with us, your adoring audience? Come clean, my boy! Come clean!
Walk back in the paper shoes? Did they confiscate his shoes with the Jimmy as they were also used to aid a crime? If so, it’s kind of lucky he had the paper ones as it’s illegal to go shoeless on a Greyhound (or to remove them once on the bus). That would have been an embarrassing conversation.
Inmate: “You again? What are you in for this time?”
Lonny: “No shoes. You?”
Inmate: “Assault, battery, murder, arson.”
Lonny: [whistles.]
Inmate: “Hey, weren’t you deaf?”
Yeah, that’d suck.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOh, Erika Rae,
You write great dialogue!
In truth, I’m pretty sure that he got his actual shoes back when he got out of jail. I’m not angry anymore, but after the first lift of pure terror that my baby was in trouble, I was LIVID!
My kids may have gone astray now and then, but they never would have ascended to the height of assault, battery, murder or arson. Inside they were sweet Midwestern kids. Just not always as bright as we though, or expected. You know that dream you have of your kids when they’re born? How perfect? How much difference they will make in this crazy world? Sorry. Not always the case. (At least, not right away.)
Besides, I’m sure, if that would have happened, Lonny would have had a great excuse for being able to hear again. But seriously, what are the chances, after all, that the same people would be in jail with him a second time?
Comment by lonny |Edit Thisok fine i did do that….
with the following exceptions:
1 - ‘tricky’ was our contact in mobile - he was not from st louis
the guy my mom is talking about is ‘john’ - he was dating a girl on my floor
he also liked pot and road trips (hey who doesn’t)
he got arrested also, obviously, and was luckily tried as a co-defendant with me
this was the luckiest thing that ever happened to him as his past was not as squeaky clean
tricky was a friend of a friend i knew in college - they were from mobile
tricky had gotten busted the night before with a bag and offered us up to save himself
a good move all things considered
2 - i did not vomit - i said ‘i am going to vomit’
two which the cop said ‘you better not fuckin’ vomit on me’
then he ‘helped’ me to the ground
i sat there on the blacktop in the hotel parking lot for a while feeling dizzy
i am sorry if any of this takes out some of the drama of the story
everyone loves a good vomit subplot
and by the way i did know how to obtain product in st louis
but i had been working all summer and felt like a road trip
everyone loves them as much as a vomit subplot
what else did everyone ask
-no i have never been back
-no t jefferson dean doesnt look like your avatar - he is younger and smoother
the first thing he said was ‘do you listen to dylan?’
i thought he knew our whole family did
‘you know that song “stuck inside of mobile with the memphis blues again”
‘uh huh’
‘that is kinda your song isnt it?’
Comment by lonny |Edit Thisi dont care about punctuation or capitalization much
but i really didnt mean to write ‘two which’
two which, too which, to which, 2 which, two witch
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisLonny!
“Tricky” set you up? I had vague memories of this, but thought they were mistaken. That evil cad!
I’m glad you didn’t really vomit after all. Thomas Jefferson Dean, Esq. told us these things, but after all, these are my memories of what was said and what happened, and it was a long time ago. Were it I, I would most definitely have been vomiting. I thought after all this time that it became a funny story although it was plenty scary at the time. I thought you would feel this way too. I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings. It wasn’t my intention. Not at all.
I like “two witch” the best.
Comment by lonny |Edit Thisno i was not offended mom
i think it is a funny story also
i just wanted to let you know of a few problems
as i said i hope i didnt ruin the story with the ‘truth’
i thought for sure you would mention that i was the fourth person in a 2 person cell
i got to sleep next to the toilet
and in the middle of the night i awoke to see a figure above me
luckily he had good aim
all in all it was a good old time
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisI WOULD have mentioned these things, had I known them! It must have been mighty crowded in there…and extra special smelly. Really good he had good aim. Might have ruined your day.
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisI actually don’t know, given there are numbers involved. My computer says it’s 3:40 AM. Been up since 1:00 AM. Got something on and in and around my mind that is interfering with a healthy life.
Comment by Debby |Edit Thisstop buying red cars and keep writing!
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisAll this time, do you think the bad luck is in the color of the cars? Oh, Debby, you should’ve warned me sooner!
When I was small the family Buick 88 was red and black. Inside and out. I believed for the longest time that that combination of those particular colors made me sick to my stomach. Turns out I was carsick, but I had never heard of that so I came to my own conclusion. I never wore clothes with red and black together and I never used those colors together in a drawing, you get the idea. Thought it was bad for my tummy.
This explanation of carsickness is absolutely choice. I love the way you think, Irene. (And I agree with Debby - keep writing!)
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisErika Rae,
To this day I get queasy when I see red and black together. A learned response, I suppose.
Comment by Tim |Edit ThisReminds me of that horrible pleather suit Eddie Murphy wore in Delirious. Or was it Raw?
Comment by Squeaky |Edit ThisAs far as family fuckup stories I’m a fan of Lenore tripping on acid so badly she wound up in her underpants, only to have pancakes made for her the next morning.
Or was it waffles.
Anyway I’m sure she omitted the descipline part.
I was taught at a very young age to never do several things.
1) Never swallow a pill that I didn’t trust.
2) Never waste money on a fake id.
3) Never buy pot. Bring the refreshments as monetary compensation.
Comment by lonny |Edit Thisif only i thought about 3)
perhaps i could have surprised the policeman with a sausage and cheese basket
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOkay, Lonny, I get the thinking about 3), but for the life of me I cannot figure out how it would’ve helped to have surprised the policeman with a sausage and cheese basket. Perhaps it would have put him in a better mood, but his whole point in having “Tricky” set you up was to get an arrest. He still would have arrested you, but he would have been able to snack on sausage and cheese. Why make his life nicer when he was ostensibly ruining yours for his bloody stats? You are a mystery to me, Lonny, a really serious mystery.
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOkay, I get it. My mind was turned off for awhile. It makes perfect sense. Sorry, I was on Mars for a short time.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisSqueaky,
It was blueberry pancakes. Saturday and Sunday morning were always pancakes or (Heck what are those British round bread things, not English muffins, that I used to make. I lost the word somewhere in my brain.), or eggs of any kind and a pound of bacon and a pound of sausage with sage and home-made orange juice, when it was in season, otherwise, canned in the old days because they didn’t have fresh juice back in the beginning.
Weekends also had “Go to the hospital while he sees his patients and eat donuts afterwards day” and that morphed into “Bonker Day”
Bonker Day was after Ben was there. ( He was seriously into bonkers. I don’t know if they make them anymore. If they do he is still eating them.) That was when Victor took them to the hospital and then afterwards he’d take them to buy candy, which was a once in a week treat.
Also Saturday was the day Victor took them to “slash and hacks.” They loved, or said they loved, those scary movies. I stayed home and enjoyed the quiet.
Wait. How did I get here?
We didn’t KNOW Lenore was tripping the night before. Had we known we would have helped her first and then disciplined her after. By now you should know the kids are all smarter than we were and always got away with murder. (Well, not literally, just figuratively.)
Those are three very good rules. We didn’t think we needed to teach them that. We thought we taught them the same by the way we lived. Boy. We were REALLY stupid!
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisSqueaky, we never had a waffle iron. You think that’s why everything seemed to go wrong? If I had just purchased a waffle iron, the kids would have approached normal? It was before they put teflon on everything. It seemed so hard to wash. I was lazy. It was my laziness, wasn’t it? God. I failed because of lack of a waffle iron! The irony.
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Comment by Squeaky |Edit ThisWell all things aside they turned out ok so you and Victor obviously did a pretty good job.
I think everyone should have a waffle iron. They are universal. Waffles are very fun food. It’s hard to be in a bad mood when someone makes you a waffle and there is a chocolate sprinkle in every hole.
EVERY hole. I mean how can you be mad after that?
Answer: You can’t. Waffle Irons. Go buy one today.
Crumpets? You made crumpets? Wow. You ARE the coolest mom ever!
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisThanks, Kimberly, I totally went all aphasic on the word “crumpets.” You make them with these cool metal rings that keep the dough confined. I always had two ovens going. Couldn’t make enough. My kids were starving all the time and on the weekends they usually each had friends sleeping over. It was really glorious. I so miss those times. If you ever decide that wall nipples are not enough for you, you should just give breeding a chance. Best time of my life.
No breeding for me. I like my uterus just the way it is, thank you very much.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOkay, Kimberly, I can take it. But how about a nice dog? (For some reason I feel the need to give you companionship you can count on. Dogs are actually several rungs above children in that department.)
I am living for the day when I have the lifestyle that will allow me to have a dog again!!!
I had a gorgeous one, but I just couldn’t care for her properly. I ended up finding her a better home with my cousins. I know it was the right choice to make - for her sake - but every day without my Bailey kills me a little.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisYou’ll be fine. You’ll have a GREAT dog again. You’ll see. I know these things. No worries. Just a little time to wait.
Comment by Irene Zion |Edit ThisTim,
You have to read Kimberly’s stuff to understand. You’d like it.
Comment by Ursula |Edit ThisYou are a great story teller. All these adventures you can write about. What is coming next created out of your memories.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisApparently, Ursula, I should have talked with Lonny before telling what I remembered. I thought he’d get a kick out of being surprised, but in fact he had so much more material that I should have known and would have added plenty.
Learn something new every day.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisSqueaky and Erika Rae and Nick,
One of my old folks told me today that he had a dream that Jesus was coming in THREE years. His sciatica will go away and everything will work out in the world. Only three years. We can wait that long.
Three years? Well, then. Time to get things in order, I suppose!
Sigh.
When my father was dying of a brain tumor, he was convinced that Jesus was saving him (physically, as well as spiritually). He refused to complete some of his life insurance papers - he was so convinced. My poor mom.
OK - that was a bit of a weird segue - but I think I get the sciatica guy. He needs the hope, I suppose.
Oh - one more random thought. When I was in high school, a guy published a little book called ‘88 Reasons the Rapture Could Be in 1988.’ We were all pretty stoked - no more tests, no more homework. Kinda bummed when that didn’t happen.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisErika Rae, couldn’t you get a lawyer on that. With a brain tumor he had to be found of unsound mind. Surely there is something that can be done, even now.
My sweet sciatica guy was so content and peaceful. The dream just lifted him to another level where the pain is inconsequential. You can’t beat that. How can it hurt? The doctors can’t do anything else for him. So God took up the slack. Good for God.
Imagine how bad the People in California felt, (given they could be feeling something after death,) when they killed themselves because they wanted to be on the alien space ship that was coming for them along with a comet? That was many years ago. I wish I could remember the story better. I remember thinking that if they could think afterwards they’d be saying “Oh Heck. We all go and kill ourselves and there isn’t a space ship to take us away after all. Boy are our faces red!”
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOkay, Erika Rae, here’s an embarrassment.
About three or four years ago, (remember, I’m 60 here,) I found out that there is actually one word: “segue.” I always thought there were two words that meant the same thing but were used in different circumstances..
1. a word pronounced phonetically as segway that you used in speaking
and
2. segue which meant the same exact thing, but was pronounced phonetically seg - U, and was used in writing only.
I swear. I don’t even know how to explain that.
Good gawd this story coulda taken a dark turn so many times. That kid is one lucky dog!
I like the way you out all your family skeletons Irene, who’s next on the chopping block?
lol
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisWell, Josie, I believe that will be Victor. But since he only read the first post and won’t read anymore, I don’t think I’ll get in trouble.
I really don’t mean to upset those I “out”. I guess I think if it’s funny to me, by now, it’s funny to them. I think I’ll include them in the questioning before writing part from now on. Or not. We’ll see.
Lonny really did luck out, Josie. All of my kids did, somehow. Maybe there is an angel watching out for children with stupid parents? Maybe it’s just dumb luck.
I don’t know what it is but there is something about time that makes life funnier.
I love your posts. Victor is missing out!
I believe in angels - you must have a boatload working for your family.
Mine keep threatening to go on strike.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOH Lord, Josie, if they didn’t go out on strike with my gang of juvenile delinquents, they’ll stand by you. I’m absolutely sure. (And I’m rarely sure about anything, the older I get.)
Victor just doesn’t have the same sense of humor that I do. No point in his reading it all. He just doesn’t get it. He just shrugs. Oh well.
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I want to hear about YOUR misadventures, Irene! These rascally kids of yours had to have gotten their gumption from somewhere… 
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOh Kimberly, I was ALWAYS a model citizen.
(Do you think anyone believed that?)
My stories are actually mild compared to Victor’s. I can get some mileage on him. Oh yeah. Mileage.
Comment by Amy |Edit ThisHow come you know so much about buying pot? I didn’t think people of your generation would know such things? or am I just too innocent?
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisAmy,
I’m pretty sure my generation INVENTED pot. From thin air. Seriously.
I’m certain that with all the smart people in your generation invented the GOURMET pot. You know what I’m talking about…hehehehe!
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisMaybe they did, Christine, but I was out of the game and a mother by then. Can’t do stuff like that when you have a family.
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I’M HERE MAMA! Here’s my favorite line:
(You might have noticed that so far the only thing Lonny had to live with was 10 years without the State of Alabama.)
So…is this where the idea of BACON WAGON stems from? I still have that Bacon Wagon tape that Tim gave us. We watched it about three months ago because no one believed that there was such a video regarding bacon sold from a wagon. I would have bought those meats. I like meats. Meats are good.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisHi Christine!
I really doubt it. I’m pretty sure the whole Alabama experience left a bad taste in his mouth.
Lonny was one of the biggest supporters of bacon-cooking on the weekend. As far as food goes, if there were some combination of bacon and sushi, he’d be in seventh heaven. Come to think of it, sounds good to me too.
Last Thanksgiving everyone was here and I bought some fancy chocolate for them. Chocolate-Bacon bars. They were very popular, with the exception of the vegetarians, they stick to the boring regular stuff. (Sigh….)
CHOCOLATE BACON??? That sounds disgusting, but interesting…I’m intrigued!
Sorry I wasn’t here sooner, I was volunteering at the school which turned into a full time volunteer nightmare…I haven’t even checked my home email in over a week.
I think it’s time for a Terrible Timmy story.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisI LOVE “Terrible Timmy” stories! Tell me one right here. Everyone is patiently waiting. Timmy has such a broad range of terribleness. It’s a glorious thing for a writer. Come one, Christine, just one “Terrible Timmy” story?
The Chocolate Bacon Bars were a HUGE hit. We are a family that is unafraid to eat almost anything. (I personally draw the line at purposely eating insects, but I understand that I eat pieces of them all the time without knowing it.) The rest of the family would eat insects, though. They are way brave. In Cambodia, in Phnom Penh, there were markets where you could buy fried cockroaches for a snack. They were all lying in baskets all pretty with their little legs all folded up as if they were praying. People were buying them and popping them in their mouths. Just. Couldn’t. Do. It.
Comment by Ruthie |Edit ThisI suppose I could “one up” you by writing about the time I had to drive 3 hours north to Champaign to track down my wayward 13 year old who had stolen our car to go joy riding with her new friends to visit her old friends who were 200 miles away and how I begged the police to put her in jail but they wouldn’t do a thing. Too bad she couldn’t have traded places with Lonny in the Alabama jail. Maybe that would have ended her teenage rein of terror.
Oh how we parents have suffered. Where are the medals of valor for all of us?
Love your stories.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOh Ruthie, I don’t remember this! Our kids were so precociously bad! Remember how Amy could open a child-guard cap to medicines when she was less than 2 years old? She was a genius among her peers! She had such ability to open ANYTHING. If safe-cracking were a good career path, she’d have been the best! She was also a REALLY good driver! My kids stole the car and drove all over but got in plenty of accidents. Amy never did. I’m telling you, she’s always been so special!
I was at the police station trying to get Tim arrested, remember that? Honestly, who will help you teach your wayward kids a lesson if the police aren’t even interested?
Comment by Kit |Edit ThisEh, I know the jail “meats”. You can usually trade them for eggs or something. It’s unfortunate as I know my parents were on the receiving end of a few phone calls like that.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOh Kit!
You are in the same club? Were your parents as clueless as we were?
Since it’s all way in the past now, I’m sort of proud of Lonny coming up with the ploy that he was deaf, not to offend the people with accents whom he didn’t understand. At least there was some spark there, in spite of him being a total idiot.
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