Kermit

 So...We are there.  We are in the new "Big" City!    Phoenix is actually the Nation's 5th largest city.  However, it doesn't really feel like a "true" big city because it is not as congested as other large cities such as New York City, Los Angeles, or even San Francisco.  Phoenix is spread out and then you have all of the smaller little cities or towns that surround Phoenix however, when speaking to someone who is from the area you will hear them refer to being from Phoenix or the "Valley" rather than stating they are from Avondale or Glendale.  

As I previously noted we lived for a while in my Mom's tiny one-bedroom apartment that she shared with her greasy old boyfriend Skip.  He still makes my stomach curdle or automatically makes my face turn downward with the "eww" face people make when they walk through a stinky area.  His face was literally greasy.  His hair was long and greasy, everything was greasy about him.  

Again, when you read some of this don't get offended by what I am writing, please remember we were three young girls from very small towns where most people were Polish or German...very rare to see anyone of a different race or ethnicity.

We stayed there for a few weeks until the incident happened that forced us to leave.  All three of us girls who drove from Michigan got jobs working at the Metro Center Mall.  Now, for us...this mall was huge! It was like something no one else had ever seen!  The mall had a roller coaster in front of it!  I believe all three of us worked at a men's clothing store called DeeJayz.  The managers absolutely loved us working there.  Of course, they did!  Why wouldn't they?  There was 2 younger male manager and an older (to us she looked really old but was probably in her 30s) female manager, therefore, the male managers loved us young women who were naive, open to doing anything, and since we knew how to flirt with the men that came in, we made a lot of sales.  

While working there we made friends. We made all types of friends.  I remember one person one of us met who was a black Irish man. All three of us found this incredible to actually meet a person from Ireland who was black!  I still remember his name, Kermit!  Therefore, how many men do you meet with the name Kermit?  The only Kermit we knew was Kermit the frog!  This was all new to us.

It was an afternoon after work or a weekend when Kermit showed up at the apartment.  I was in total shock!  I was like, how did this man get to this apartment in the hood?  I was so embarrassed because of where we lived, and then in shock that this man who was actually on the smaller side drove into the ghetto to locate us,  without google maps back then the only way you could find an address was because someone verbally told you how to get to the address.  I asked both of my friends how Kermit knew where we lived and who the heck invited him over? I was so stressed, so humiliated that someone invited another person to my Mom's house!  One friend told us that she gave him the address to the apartment but didn't know he would drive over unannounced.  I guess Kermit wanted to do something with us or something like that because he too was new to the area???? cannot remember exactly. But, we found out that time that a person from Ireland is not too shy to get out and do something with new friends!

After Kermit left, we went back into the apartment and my Mom got in our face, literally approximately 5 inches from the face (more directed to our friend that provided Kermit with the address) with the craziness in her eyes, she leaned forward stretching her neck as far as it could go and jutted out her lower jaw so a person could see her bottom front teeth as she yelled.  She had her arms down straight to her side and her hands were balled into fists.  I wish I could find a photo to better provide an idea of how pissed off my Mom was at this moment.  She started yelling at our friend something about "I didn't tell you that people could come over here, and you bring a N****r to my house!"  "Get all of your shit and get your ass out of my house!!!"  and there were some other racist expletives that were thrown at our friend.  Because I knew my Mom knew that unfortunately, I had the temper that she passed down to me, therefore, when I got back in her face and got in between my friend and my Mom, my Mom wouldn't do a damn thing to me.  You see, even though this lady scared so many people including family members all of her life, she did NOT scare me.

We left packed up and moved to a friend's house (I cannot remember how or who met these ladies) to stay in their apartment for a few days until we could get our own.  

What got me so confused about the racial hate that came out of her mouth that day.  And was still has me in awe is she had so much hate for this nice black guy who was dressed well and showed up to her place.  BUT.. she didn't hate the thugs that came to the house to deal the heroin she loved over anything else in her life  to that nasty man Skip!  

Now What?

 Now that the three of us are in Phoenix, now what?  It is funny when I watch TickTock and see clips about Gen Xers not giving a fuck about anything and not being scared of anything.  It is so true!  We grew up differently and my two friends and I fit right smack dab within the description of what a Gen Xer is.  I mean, we just hit "adulthood" and traveled from small towns in upper Michigan and the U.P. and drove to Arizona via paper fold-up map by ourselves, eating spaghetti-o's and fruit cocktails from the can so we didn't have to spend money on food and doing so in a two-seater car with no actual trunk.  We end up in the literal "hood" of Phoenix (not exaggerating with the term hood) with the only actual fear being how we were going to get a job to start making money.  

    Funny side note story to give you an image of where we were living....the day we got there or the next day, my friend and I decided it is a good time to call home and tell our families we got to Phoenix safe.  We had to use phone cards at the time to call home on a pay phone, yes a pay phone and we put our ears against the phone to speak.  We actually didn't know what type of neighborhood we were in because we had never been around a neighborhood like the one my Mom lived in before and basically we didn't know good neighborhoods from bad ones and we just plain didn't care.  As we were walking down the road to the payphone we were approached by a pregnant lady who was holding the hand of a toddler who was not any older than 2 years old, both were pretty darn dirty.  The lady was actually a pretty large woman compared to my friend and me with hair going everywhere in literally every direction.  The lady says "Do you have crystal?" I looked at my friend confused thinking why does she want A crystal?  My friend looks at her and says no and grabs my hand really fast to walk away.  I looked at my friend and say "Why does she want a crystal?, you have one around your neck" My friend says "No Dummy! She is talking about the drug!"  Even after my friend said that to me I was stumped...drug?  What was crystal?  Not till later I thought about how bad I felt for that child she was dragging down the street with her.  

     Back to that Gen Xer that we are; the entirety of "figuring it out on your own" was real with us.  We needed to figure it out on our own how to survive in the new huge city (remember we were all from small little itty bitty towns in Michigan) on our own.  I didn't have a parent to ask for help.  BUT BUT BUT!!!.... have no fear I had Susie there! 

     Believe it or not, my Mom told us how to hustle for money.  She told us, if you need money, go to the corner gas station put on our pretty smiles, look cute and ask men for some extra cash to fill up the little ol' Fiero even if we had enough gas.  And yes people it worked!  

   Was it safe?  Absolutely not!  However, we did what we needed to do to make it work. 

     

Stevie, I hope you are well

 Stevie was one of the siblings to who I was the closest growing up.  I was closest to him because we kept more in touch with him than my other siblings.  I didn’t really meet my other siblings until I was an adult. I really don't know the reason, and I was a kid.  I don’t know if I asked or not.  When I think about it Stevie and I really weren't that close.  I really don't know if he enjoyed coming to our house to visit or if he was forced to do so.  I don't know why he came around when he did.  He didn't call too often.  I remember my Grandma asking him one time why he didn't call and maybe we chalked it up to him just being a boy or a young man and being a kid, he may have not thought of it.  I lived in a town where there wasn't too much to do so maybe he didn't like that portion of visiting.  But it seemed as though he enjoyed being with us when we would do crazy outdoor stuff like fishing, swimming in the swimming hole in the river, fighting the roosters, and helping my Grandpa do outdoor stuff like helping with wood, or mowing the lawn.  We would have a great time in the woods, fishing in the river barefoot & swimming in the swimming hole in the river (which I would never do today!).  For some reason even though I was not on the mind of my brother, I absolutely adored my older brother.  When he was around I wanted to be around him.  I always wanted to be by his side. I always wanted to touch him (not in a weird way) and I always wanted to show him off to my friends.  Just like my Mom and how I always wanted to show her off even if she wasn't worthy of showing off to anyone.   Steve was worthy of showing off.  

    All of the girls loved Stevie.  He had dirty blonde hair and sky blue eyes.  Yes, we have no similarities in the looks.   I think he got the blue eyes from my Grandpa and the blonde is from his Dad's side.  When I saw him as an adult I see his Dad.  He looked just like Steve Pahlkotter.  

     The last time I have seen Stevie was in Phoenix, he moved to Phoenix to find our Mom after his Dad passed away from a car crash.  I guess he wanted someone to be in contact with some form of parent.  I don't think Stevie had the greatest relationship with his father, but I am not really sure and I do t want to speak for him because you never k ow they may have been super close.  The father-son relationship was never spoken about.  When he moved to Phoenix he made the move after he was supposed to be on an extended leave from the Merchant Marine position he held.  It was a great job for him.  It was alot of hard work from what I understand but he made lot of money due to the fact that they stay on the boats/ships for 6 months a year.  I have heard that the single guys just make money because they don't have too many bills stateside and they don't get off the boat too often to spend that money. 

     When he went to visit with our Mom duing his leave, I almost can guarantee you that she manipulated him to stay in Phoenix, live with her and she spent his money on whatever she deterimined she was going to tell him he needed to buy her.  I know she layed the guilt  trip on him bad.  Probably said any story she could think of to make him feel as if she wasn't guilty for anything that happened and the reason why she left him when he was a baby.  The “whoa-is-me” was laid in thick.  Even though the guilt factor was huge, I am almost sure the story about why she left was true, the way she told the story made the difference.  I wish I could explain better her manipulation but I just can’t.  You all probably know a person who manipulates.. twists words etc.  but, multiply that by 10.  This is how she manipulates.  She is the queen of gas lighting. 

     Back to why I am writing about Stevie.  I think  about him so much because his heart was so filled with empathy for his Mom.  He wanted (maybe still wants) her love.  

     The last time I saw Stevie around 2006, he was riding his old 10-speed bike in Phoenix to his job in Walmart in Glendale.  Probably a good 15-20 mile distance in the Phoenix heat to work during the summer.  He was now broke.  My Mom most likely talked him out of all of the money he saved from the Merchant Marines and he was no longer working for them.  He did not extend his contract. My Mom would go to Walmart to make a ruckus, have one of her “fits”.  Not sure how long he lasted there with her going to his job to make a commotion.  He couldn’t have a girl because my Mom would break them up.  

Because I think of Stevie & the last thing I ever heard my Mom say; I pray Stevie is doing well. 

          

Will be cursing in this post

 This morning as I was walking my dog when my memories started.  Sometimes I know what will trigger a memory of my past and my Mom.  Sometimes it is a certain smell, or when I am looking at jewelry.  I remember her loving turquoise with silver.  She wore the big turquoise rings and silver bracelets.  Not sure why she wore so many rings because unfortunately, our genes did not pass down the beautiful long thin fingers like you may see some women have.  Sometimes a trigger may be me seeing someone walk similar to the way my Mom walked.  I actually had a friend tell me "I like how your Mom walks".  She did have a special type of walk.  She has long legs and would almost seem as though she walked on her toes.  I will tell you that she always had great posture.  Always kept her shoulders back and her stomach tucked in, I never recall my Mom slouching.  

This memory sorta starts from where I left off after the three of us moved in with my Mom for a few days at least.  As you know, my Mom didn't live in the greatest area in Phoenix.  It was the hood. My friends didn't judge.  I guess we were so happy to be in a big city and we were just excited to get out and explore.  Had no idea where we really were, and we were completely invincible, blind, and just down-right ignorant to the area we were at.  Even later that day or the next day when my friend and I walked to the payphone to call home to let our family know we got to Phoenix safely when big lady with hair all over the place and a toddler in tow came up to us and asks us "do you have any crystal?".  My ignorant self looked at my friend puzzled and whispered to her "you have one around your neck" my friend looked at me and says "No dummy!  She is not asking about that type of crystal, she is asking if we have the type you smoke!".  I just started laughing and we both just started walking away (maybe running) from the lady to the payphone.  And at night there would be gunfire.  Still didn't phase us.  

I did get phased when I used the bathroom in my Mom's apartment and saw these old pantyhose hanging from the doorknob on the back of the door.  It seemed odd when I noticed that the hose were tied to have knots throughout them, and what looked like splotches of blood.  I knew exactly what that was, I knew exactly what I was looking at hanging from the back of the door.  These were ties she used to tie off her veins when she was shooting herself up!  I grabbed them and went out to her asked her "what the hell are these?"  She made up some bullshit about her using them when she gets a cut from shaving her legs.  I didn't say anything more because I didn't have to.  She knew what I was getting at and turns around and grabs them and says "see baby, I will throw them in the trash!".  I was still pissed.  But there was nothing I could do, I brought my friends to Phoenix to "save" my Mom and I had to stay there, we had no money and nowhere else to go!  

Do you remember when I posted she was never alone? Or any addicts never start their drugs of choice alone?  That she always had someone else to get the drugs for her?  That is so true!  That nasty greasy, nasty buck-toothed mother fucker called "Skip" was the one that she couldn't live without, the one "that gives me things" "he is good to me Bridget" was outside the next day in the back seat of someone's car with his nasty ass hanging his greasy arms into the front seat making an "exchange" in the car.  Skip was her provider, this is how he kept her happy.

Road Trip of a Lifetime!

 Three girls from small towns in Michigan, only 18 and 19 years old, did the craziest, scariest, and funniest thing a girl our age could do.  Packed up what we could put in a "trunk" of a Fiero and headed out.  When we were driving through Chicago and getting on and off our first "big city" on-and-off ramp, this one completed a full circle.  I was driving; it was dark, and I was scared as hell to drive on that ramp.  We all screamed the entire time we were on the ramp.  

  Our plan was to drive all of the ways through to Phoenix.  Why not?  We had three drivers, right?  Well, it sounded like a great plan that was almost pulled off.  However, we never thought that three people in a two-seated vehicle would be uncomfortable and not very sleepable.  We did pack food to eat along the way; we ate spaghetti'os out of the can and apple sauce or canned fruit (I believe). I don't remember stopping to eat; we only stopped to use the bathroom (maybe).  We would check out the boys that would drive beside us and make signs to say something to them; we would laugh and have a good time with people that would be driving past us on the freeways, young and old.  We had a good time.  

     Well, our plan of driving all of the ways through didn't plan out too well. While driving through the northern part of Texas, I remember Amarillo, Texas, because I thought the name of it was funny, and I could swear we actually seen a real armadillo. Still, it could have just been the fact that all of the signs in Amarillo had an armadillo on them. I must have fallen asleep at the wheel because suddenly when I woke up, I was driving in the desert!  All dirt!  It seemed like that anyway. I guess luck was on my side, and we didn't run into anything like a pole or another car.  After I got back on the road, we stopped somewhere we thought would be safe to get a few hours of sleep.  It was scary, but we all slept in the cramped car.   It only took a few minutes for all of us to sleep for around 4 hours, but it felt like 10 hours.   

     Going into New Mexico, we ran into a wind storm and actually had seen our first tumbleweeds tumbling across the roads.  It was so great for us!  We have only seen stuff like that one TV.  But now that I think about it, it really was not great and we could have gotten pretty hurt.  

     We got to Phoenix and we needed to find out where my Mom lived and actually call the folks in Michigan to let everyone know we made it.  So we got to this little itty bitty torn down house in a sketchy neighborhood that was actually scary.  When we got out and took in the heat that just hit us, I knocked on the door.  A greasy grubby man with a big belly, long grey hair and beard greeted us at the door with no shirt on.  He was nice to us, and let us in.  All types of emotions were going through me at that time.  Is this the right house?  What will I see?  What will my friends think?  We don't have any more money and we don't have any where else to stay!  I don't know if my friends walked in with me or not at that time.  

     So, as I walk in I didn't see my Mom right away, she didn't come to me.  I walked in a little more and look to my left....In the middle of the living room I see my Mom sitting smack-dab in the middle of the floor with her legs in a criss-crossed style. She was almost falling over, mouth a little open, eyes rolling back.  

    I can picture this trance she was in to this day.