A Trip at Granny's

A child's memories of his eccentric grandmother in the late 1960s.

The booze sure did flow at Grandma's house. That's where the action was. Her name was Henrietta. We kids just called her Grandma Henry. She was a big woman, a matriarchal type. She wore pointed cat-eye glasses, chain-smoked, owned a couple of street-corner bars and was not afraid to express an opinion - and shout you down if she disagreed with you.

She lived with Grandpa Jake, her second husband but in separate rooms. They had been divorced for years. Jake was a skinny, balding brewery worker who smoked air-tipped cigars and grinned a lot. He knew his place in the household. He was on the company bowling team and had a nice display of his bowling trophies.

Back in the swinging sixties, going to Grandma Henry's and Jake's house was always fun. Lots of laughter and music came out of that house, either from the old piano or from the Dean Martin records. The TV was usually on too, with the sound off when the music was playing. They had a color TV! Big, pumpkin-shaped screen with an attached stereo record player and AM-FM radio.

I remember seeing shows like My Three Sons or Bonanza for the first time in color there, with color commercials for Hunt's Tomato Catsup and L&M cigarettes, often without sound as Dean or Sammy or Frank crooned away. Sometimes Mom would play the piano, Dad would join in with his banjo and they'd sing old songs together.

In the basement was a pool table and sometimes Dad and Jake or Uncle Mitchell or somebody would be down there shooting a few games for fun. I just wondered where those numbered, colored balls went when they disappeared in the hole.

Meanwhile Aunt Pam and her friends would be in one of the upstairs bedrooms, listening to 45s on the little record player. Gary Lewis and the Playboys, Nancy Sinatra, that kind of stuff. There were always strange smells coming out of that room. Lots of giggles too.

On other visits, the card table would be out and Grandma Henry, Grandpa Jake, Mom, Dad, aunts, uncles, all the relatives would sit around it, shuffling, dealing, talking louder the drunker they got. The house would be filled with smoke, making my little eyes water.

There'd be a big platter of cheeses, meats, chips, dip and Ritz crackers to eat from. Lots of Pepsi and 7-Up as well if you were too little for a beer or vodka martini. Then came dinner. Always something good and lots of it. You didn't go hungry at Grandma Henry's house.

Hanging high above the dinner table, a gold and yellow Shell No-Pest Strip to keep the flies away. It looked like a neat toy but Grandma wouldn't let me play with it.

While the family was playing cards, and I happened to be walking by, Grandma Henry would often stop me and say "Jeffrey, would you be so kind as to bring me another beer," handing me her glass. Inevitably somebody else would say, "Oh, as long as you're headed that way…" Soon I'd be bringing everybody's drinks on a metal serving tray. It was fun though.

That's the stuff of childhood memories. My Grandma knew how to have a good time and throw a party. Perhaps she was too good at it.

When my Uncle Mitchell graduated from college, that was cause for celebration. I remember riding to Grandma's in Dad's blue '65 Ford and you could hear the festivities from down the block. Dad, Mom and I walk into the place and everybody's there. All the relatives, Mitchell's college friends, probably half the city council and mayor too. Grandma Henry always had good connections.

My parents grabbed a drink and faded into the crowd. I joined my young cousins in running around the house, up and down the stairs, in and out of the basement and jumping on the beds on second floor. Mitchell had reign of the stereo and the rockin' sounds of Iron Butterfly and Jefferson Airplane filled the house.

Pretty soon I grabbed a cookie and a couple of brownies off the big table. I noticed what looked like little bits of dried leaves in those snacks but they tasted all right so I didn't think much of it.

Before long I began to realize that in my seven short years, this was the best time I've ever had in my life. People would come up and say "How's Jeff doin'?" and I'd say "I'm having more fun than I've ever had!" and they'd say "Good for you!"

Also on the table was a punch bowl. Figuring it was just good old Hawaiian Punch, I helped myself to a glass and nobody bothered stopping me. Yuck! Pooey! There was booze in it. There just might have been something else in it as well.

I remember starting to feel a bit chilly, yet I was sweating up a storm running around the house with my cousins. My fingers and toes started to tingle pleasantly. "C'mon, Jeff! Let's play hide 'n' seek," said my cousin Doug and it sounded as though he was talking through a chamber.

Around the house the laughter got louder and the music got weirder but I only vaguely thought about that. I was just having the greatest time of my life and that was all that mattered.

I looked up and saw hanging from a window these yellow and orange daisy-patterned curtains. They were probably always there but I had never noticed them until now. And what a beautiful and fascinating work of art that I had been neglecting all this time, I thought, at least in the way a seven-year-old would articulate that.

I looked in all directions of the room, observing my surroundings and realizing what a splendidly bright, colorful world I was in. People were coming up, stooping down to talk to me and their faces seemed somehow bigger than the rest of their bodies. Bigger than life, really. Maybe it was just the angle at which I was looking at them.

Again the color TV was on with the sound off. What was on? Some variety show, I think. There was some lavish dance number where everybody was wearing these gaudy, colorful costumes.

The whole idea of color TV was fascinating to me because all we had at home was a black and white portable set with a broken aerial and it tended to make a buzzing sound. Color TV was so neat. I wanted to become better acquainted with it.

I looked closely at the screen. The lavish dancers with the gaudy costumes faded into vast dimensions of red, blue and green dots. Then there were the knobs below the channel changer. What do they do? One made everyone's faces turn bright red or bright yellow. Another made the faces blue or green. I played with the knobs, manipulating the colors in so many different ways. Nobody was telling me no, and in fact some of Uncle Mitchell's college friends seemed as fascinated as me. I heard one of them say "You've invented psychedelivision, man."

When I finally decided to find something else to do, one of the college guys started playing with the knobs. I wandered into the kitchen. The kitchen seemed much more vast than I ever remembered it to be. Grandma Henry was in there fixing more snacks for the partiers. I asked her for a glass of water and when I spoke, I felt as though I was under water.

Furthermore, she didn't seem to understand what I was saying. She kept going "Huh? What?" I pointed to the faucet and she finally got the drift. When Grandma Henry handed me the glass of water she suddenly looked scarier than I had ever seen her before. Those cat-eye glasses and bulging eyes actually frightened me. The wrinkles on her face looked deep and I saw sprouts of hair in them. Her long fingernails looked like claws. I took my glass of water, turned my head and got away from there.

The night continued on as I explored this whole new world at Grandma's house until….the police came. They just walked right in and swept everyone away. At first I thought they wouldn't notice me or that I was too young to get arrested but they took me and the rest of the kids as well.

The next thing I remember is waking up in my bed at home. The sun was shining through my window as it did every morning. But looking around my bedroom, it seemed to be spinning ever so slightly.

I called for my mom. I asked her, what happened at Grandma Henry's last night.

"It was just a dream. Forget about it," she said.

"But I remember…."

"I said forget about it!"

Later on, if I said "Mom, remember when I had that dream about…." she'd always say "Forget about it, Jeff. Just forget about it."

Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue

(Caution: F-bombs, crude language)

It was the summer of 1973, a particularly hot, humid day. The Delaney family was having their annual family get-together. While music played from the living room stereo, all the doors and windows were wide open, people filled the house, the front and back yards. Adults were drinking and socializing and kids were playing and chasing one another.

Tom Delaney and his cousin Terry Stone, meanwhile, were up in the attic, sitting on the floor and listening to a David Bowie album on a record player they brought up there. The two teenagers were getting themselves high sniffing model airplane glue. The boys made models together when they were younger and had since enjoyed the pleasant effects of glue.

"Wow. This is good shit," said the long, blond-haired Tom.

Droopy-eyed Terry took another sniff from the tube. "Yeah, it's great. I'm floatin' now!"

With Bowie rockin' and glue fumes penetrating their brains, they found profound things to talk about.

"Man you shoulda seen this chick I saw at the drug store the other day," said Tom. "She had tits like you wouldn't believe. They were mega-tits, man!"

"Shit, I woulda love to see that," replied Terry. "But I did see this chick on TV the other day with tits that practically stuck right out of her fuckin' shirt! I bet she weren't even wearing no bra!"

"No foolin'? Oh wow."

They continued to listen to the David Bowie album, talk about "tits" and sniff more glue when a young visitor came up and caught the two in action.

"Hi guys!" said the chirpy 13-year-old Diane, a cousin of the two boys.

Terry had the tube of glue up to his nose and was just a little stunned by the invasion. "The hell you doin' here?"

"I just heard some music and talking up here and I wanted to see what was going on."

"Well this ain't no place for kids," said 15-year-old Tom. "Just us big guys can be up here."

Diane noticed the lead tube in Terry's hand. "You're sniffing glue?!" she blurted out loudly and began to laugh.

"SHHH! Not so loud!"

Diane continued to laugh. "I can't believe it. You guys are hiding all the way up here just to sniff glue!"

The guys did not appreciate being laughed at by a precocious 13-year-old girl.  "Well what do you expect us to be doin'? Smokin' pot?" replied Tom.

"That's a lot better than that shit," Diane retorted.

The boys were at first irritated by their younger cousin but then they began to notice something about her. Her body was beginning to take shape, for one thing, and her clothing did much to emphasize it. She wore a sleeveless shirt with a decal depicting hearts, flowers and clouds, along with very short shorts, revealing her tanned legs and white sandals, showing off her painted toenails. With her soft brown hair framing her maturing face, Diane suddenly didn't seem to be the pesky kid that Tom and Terry had known her to be.

Diane noticed there were several empty Shasta soda-pop cans of various flavors around the boys. "Is that all you guys are drinking is pop?" she asked with mild amusement.

"Well, they won't let us have a beer," Tom replied.

"I could get a whole six-pack up here without anybody noticing," she bragged.

"Yeah, I'd like to see you try!" said Terry.

"Okay, I will!" she said with a smirk as she headed downstairs where the party continued to roll on.

"Man, is that chick for real?" asked Terry. Tom simply shrugged his shoulders and took another whiff of glue.

"She is getting some nice looking tits," he said.

A few minutes later, Diane returned with the promised six-pack.

"How the hell did'ja do that?" asked Tom.

"It was easy. A cinch," she said with a giggle.

The three each grabbed a can and as they were lifting and tearing off the ring tabs, Diane said, "Okay, before we even take a sip, let's have a chug-a-lug contest!"

"Oh my god," blurted Tom. The boys could not believe how wild this girl really was.

"On your mark, get set, GO!" called out Diane as the three downed the contents of the cans. While the two boys had to continuously drink and swallow, with foam sometimes shooting from their mouths, Diane was able to suck down almost half the contents at once, although her brown eyes seemed to pop out of her face as she did this.

"Shit! Where'd you learn to guzzle like that?" asked Terry as they took a rest.

I have experience," replied the 13-year-old with a smile. "I can drink wine or beer without any problem at all. I've even smoked pot before, which is a hell of a lot better than sniffing glue, I can tell you that!"

The truth was she had only tried pot once at age 12, and then it made her hack and cough to the point of tears, although she figured at this point she could try it again since she was beginning to smoke cigarettes without too much problem.

"You wanna try it again?" asked Diane, as the three still had about half a can of beer left. The boys agreed and once again, Diane sucked down the remaining contents of her can before the boys could get in four swallows.

"I guess I win!" exclaimed Diane with a big smile as she set down her empty can. Tom and Terry could hardly stand up, loaded with so much beer and glue vapors.

The David Bowie album on the record player had ended. "Want me to flip it over?" asked Diane.

"Go for it," replied Tom as she walked up, turned the record over and set the needle on the first song. She walked back over and sat right between the two boys, making things rather cozy.

There were three cans of beer left and they each had one, this time drinking them slowly. As the album played, Diane chattered away like the pubescent girl she was, while Tom and Terry sat, almost speechless.

When they finished their beers, Diane said, "Let's go downstairs and join the party." She stood up and the boys followed, now more intoxicated than they had ever been before.

Throughout the house and outside as well, the boys followed Diane as she mingled with the relatives. She had hugs and kisses for all of them and they thought she was just the sweetest little girl. And they didn't even notice the beer on her breath.

The boys, meanwhile, had a terrible case of  "the munchies" and before long grabbed a big bag of Frito's corn chips off the large table outside and chomped on them as though their life depended on it. When Diane saw them, she reached into the bag and took a handful.

Among everyone, as usual, was old Uncle Mel and his infamous camera. Every year at the family get-together, Uncle Mel was there snapping pictures wherever he turned and he seemed to have an endless supply of film.

"Hi Uncle Mel!" chirped Diane as she waved.

"Hello, Diane. You sure are looking lovely. Let me take a picture of yuh." As usual, Mel was wearing a loud suit and was wasted.

"I have my favorite cousins, Tom and Terry with me. You can take a picture of all three of us."

"I'd be delighted," said Mel. He set up his camera while Diane stood directly in front of the two boys, who towered over her. She gave a big smile as the two just stood there, mesmerized by Mel's colorful polyester suit.

Mel held the camera to his face. "Ready. . .say cheese. . ."

Just as he snapped the picture, Diane grabbed the two boys in a certain place which gave them a rather shocked look as she continued to smile. The picture was shot above the waist so nobody really saw what happened.

"Thanks a million," said Mel as he staggered off to take a picture of the half-eaten potato salad.

Tom and Terry continued to follow their cousin around as she charmed everyone with her cuteness until her mother finally said "Diane, honey, it's time for us to go."

"Okay, Mom!" she said as she joined her parents and they all left the party.

A few minutes later, Tom and Terry looked at each other.

"What hit us just now?" asked Terry.

"I don't know, man, I don't know."

The next summer there was another family gathering at the Delaney's. Tom and Terry were anxious to see their cousin again, to see how hot she was now. And sure enough she did show up, with her parents and her boyfriend, a soon-to-be high school senior who played on the football team.

"Well fuck this shit," said Tom as the two boys went back upstairs to the attic, played a Led Zeppelin album and yes, sniffed some more glue.