Smell the Heat not the Plastic
By mid march the daily temps were nearing a hundred, by noon the heat radiated off the old clay bldgs of colonial Granada like the chrome exhaust pipes on those cheap Chinese motorcycles.
I had the back half of a round trip ticket on Continental. I changed it from Seattle to Omaha and went off to visit family and friends in the heart land of the USA.
I was hoping for cool , green and spring like story book spring weather but when I landed in Omaha the freezing rain was blowing sideways and the mercury stalled near the 32 degree mark. My elderly parents had braved the 75 mph I80 freeway to come 40 miles north and pick me up at the airport. The bad weather didn’t phase them nor did the tailgaters continuously trying to pass the old folks in the fast lane…
Back at the apartment we played Scrabble. We watched Wheel of Fortune the Weather Chanel, Deal or No Deal and we ate (a lot)….Both Beef Pot Roast and a Pork Roast for dinner one nite. Asparagus, cranberries and walnuts. Fritos, Doritos and Cheetohs, shrimp cocktails and breaded catfish. Fancy Belgian chocolates and tiny Mars bars, Crown Royal, Jim Beam and Tequila….What a country.
My folks like so many older folks have discovered Casino Gambling and food hoarding as their main hobbies. They have converted the hall closet into a pantry. Bags of oyster crackers and instant pudding, lo sodium Campbell’s and cans of tuna and other fish. Piles of bagged snack foods from the Aldi’s and pyramids of toilet paper and paper towels.
Dad knows I don’t share his interest in “gaming”, but he had to show off all his “Harrah’s” booty. Free gifts from the various Harrah’s he has chosen to be his beneficiary. He had decks of cards and Xmas cards. He had imprinted shirts and hats and watches. Comped hotel rooms and free buffets. All for “free” .
My mom is not a player, she likes to sit in the room and decide what to watch of the tv…Dad can stand on his feet all night…smoking a pack of Indian cigarettes and pulling handles or pushing buttons till the breakfast buffet opens..
I can’t help to feel that modern computer games with my dad’s Harrah’s Personal VIP card deeply inserted in them can push his buttons and work him like a two dollar whore. It knows how long he will play with out winning and how much money he can and will leave behind. Dad is a geriatric zombie, dazed by the colors and the seamless technology.
I gladly jumped in to the other past time of shopping. Mostly grocery stores, Walgreens and a few big box stores.
Here in Nicaragua there just isn’t that much to buy. Even the big international grocery stores in Managua couldn’t begin to compete with the mighty Super Saver in Lincoln, Neb. The Super Saver is huge, a massive temple to edible excess. Aisles of just pet food, even refrigerated fresh food for dogs. There is a giant Willy Wonka like wall just filled to the ceiling with self serve sweets, aromatic fresh donuts and tortillas coming off conveyor belts in the back of the store. Wide frosty rows of freezers blasting off chilly air and stocked with instant corporate miracle food as well as a thousand flavors of ice cream. I stood gaped jawed like Jethro Bodin watching fat people push not one but some time two carts packed full of prepared packaged goodness around the wide spotlessly clean store. They had Hot Pockets and frozen Italian meats. They had Mexican cheese and Greek olives, egg roll skins and all natural skin care products. The kids dripped fudgicles on their Sponge Bob t shirts while linebacker sized moms shopped for cheese in a can micro wave ready pot roast dinners, complete with potatoes and broccoli…Temptations abounded… I craved smoked turkey breast , pita bread with pretzels and a big Kosher dill pickle, Steak Ums, frozen White Castle burgers, tato tots,,,, maybe the spicy blue corn chips with fresh pico de gallo, Swiss cheese, edam, Colby and jack, but I bought Tom’s natural tooth paste, big jars of Omega 3 vitamins, stir fry sauces, curry paste, Cajun seasoning before I hit my luggage weight allowance.
The north west suburban side of Lincoln is spreading like weeds. Giant shopping complexes, big box stores and car dealerships line miles of wide new smooth roads. In one three block area there are two different home stores and three different office stores…For some reason Lincoln has always seemed richer and whiter than other mid western towns. The state capital and home to Pfizer Pharmaceuticals, Kawasaki Motorcycles and the University Of Nebraska….Go Huskers…
Lot’s of big shiny trucks driven by rosy cheeked professional people complaining about paying $3.35 for a gallon of gas while piling carts full of over packaged pseudo food, new plastic electronic doo dads, low use lite bulbs full of mercury, gadgets and the latest Hollywood toy fad into the cavernous cargo area of their massive Ford Explorer. But ….Be Green, Bring your own cloth bag…What a country
I love my ancient parents but after 4-5 days I needed some grown up time.
I rented a Nissan and hit some thrift stores and even a couple of old antique malls in the area…It was in the thrifts that I first heard anyone speaking Spanish…
I had a big shopping list but even with a third of it done I started to feel the economic burn and I tightened my purse strings…And besides I was going to have to buy some of that 4 dollars gas now too.
I took off the next morning to visit my sister and her All American family in Red Wing and then for Mpls. I lived there from the 7th till 10th grade and back again for college a few years later. The freedom of the road kicked in right away. I am not used to be cooped up in a small apartment with my folks so, rolling done the hiway with some rock and roll on the radio was a tonic. Only one thing missing to make it like that Tom Petty song…..
My folks had lead me to believe that it would take much longer than it did to reach Minn. Dad lent me a state map of Neb and a map of the USA in case I got lost. They don’t smoke in the car and they need to pee a lot so for them freeway driving is a tour of rest stops. Some of them down right spectacular. The Iowa Rest Stop near the Minn border has the fastest free wi fi I have ever seen. Down loaded some Amy Winehouse and made reservas at the near by Motel 6.…It was only 6 pm when I checked into to my old home away from home, the Motel 6. They had left the light on for me. I went up stairs and took a little nap and a hot shower before looking for a mom and pop eatery. I drove around for awhile but never found the town of Lakeville. Near the hotel was a McDonalds and a strip mall Mexican café called TacoVille. I opted for Minn-Mexican and ate hi school cafeteria sloppy joe style burritos for dinner.
Score on tv, a great documentary on PBS called Illict, Bill Maher on HBO and then the Simpsons in English. SWEET
In the morning I snagged a breakfast burrito and coffee at Mc D’s. The coffee was excellent, the burrito haunted me all day…. Good thing I didn’t have the steak.
I thought it would take an hour or so to reach south Mpls but I was forcing a hard exit off 66th st even before my coffee cooled down. I came off the exit and saw the once important Lynndale Home Nursery shut down and for sale. I worked there in the spring and summer in college. I new where I was now but back in the day I rode busses and bikes. I needed alleys and shortcuts to find some spots. I was riding the nostalgia wave now, 25 years or more since I graced these tree lined blvds. I passed Debby Dale’s house and Pearl Park (where my grade school band had it’s first gig) turned at Diamond Lake and passed the grocery store were I got caught by the cops taking a break from my early morning paper route and swiping dozens of fresh donuts from the outside delivery door. The folks got a wake up call and continental breakfast that morning.…Just up 58th and I passed all the neat older houses that my old 8th-10th grade neighbors and friends lived in. Living in 1960s South Mpls was the most Leave it T Beaver time of my life. It all came back and the cold gray day seemed warmer.
I cruised all the lakes, and the west bank near the river, Washburn High School, Resurrection Catholic School and Church, my old house at Lake Nokomis and the warehouse downtown where I lived as the nite watchman. I even saw the Mary Tyler Moore statue downtown…
It seemed so big back then but now it’s just over there.
The grey city was just coming out of winter, dead leaves and dirt covered everything with just the earliest of bulbs trying to poke out of the hard ground….It made the city center and old commercial streets look drab and a little forgotten. But the in town lake areas still house a flourishing middle class. These great two and three story homes built at the turn of the century expressed a erstwhile Lutheran optimism that happily still exists. It always been a nice town, pleasant blue eyed people, lots of book stores and employed folk supporting a music and art scene. But man is it cold…There was ice on the lakes and snow flakes floating in the air.
I was to be guest of honor at friends that nite so for lunch I only ate three White Castle Burgers and a small fry at one of the sleaziest places in the world.
If I had only had the stomach space for a trip to Falafel King…
I went to my college girl friend’s home for dinner with her best friend and her hubby that night and we had a lovely slow roasted pork roast on family china with wine in crystal glasses.
My friends in hi school and college are best described as the smart hippies. Whether any of us every were hippies is hard to say… But kids and car payments will keep you on the job…Most all of my old friends left standing are doing well….Lisa bought the house she grew up in from her folks estate. It freaks me out to visit. I knock on that big old oak door and fully expect her mom, the culture vulture old Mrs. Rotegard to answer. The oriental rugs and furniture still look the same and even includes my old monster stereo from the 70s and assorted odd old things from when we lived in sin. Mrs and I didn’t get along that well. After all I was the wild haired neer do well that had seduced her daughter and now we shared a tie dyed love nest. But Mrs R introduced me to estate sales with art and antiques. She and her pals in The Culture Vulture Club knew all about Oriental Rugs and sculpture, artists and 1920s craftsmen. She may have never blessed our cohabitation but she helped us furnish with wrought iron bridge lamps and Parrish prints. Her introduction to collecting influenced me more than maybe any other person. And It was her uncle Herbie that sold me my first car…a huge white one owner 1948 Suburban style truck called a Carry All.
The nostalgia wave is giving me a little motion sickness now. For me, Mpls is a place and a time but for those who never left it is only a place… So like so many 50 something’s I ask myself Where did the time go? When the heck did I get to be the old fart with 20 year old socks and a tattered bagful of war stories? I had wanted to ask specific questions about the time line of my college years. I have selective and some times purple hazy memories of the old days. But as I talked to my grayer and chubbier pals I realized everyone remembrances are subjective, it’s the flavor and the spirit of the events not the chronology that’s important.
But I still plan a questionnaire…….All for now,,,, part two:
Black Balloons in the Tavern coming soon…….
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