The Nitty Gritty
I went to Michael’s yesterday. Michael’s - as in arts and crafts. Every so often I fancy myself a painter or knitter or candle maker. It usually starts with an idea,
“Oh, I’ll just do a painting of Mitch, or a banana”
So off I trot to the paint store. In this case Michael’s. I get myself a canvas or two, paints, brushes , pads and a palette. I even venture into the easel aisle. Since I’ m well aware of the usual outcome to my artistic endeavours I only invest in the $14.99 easel - with %30 off it came to a mere $10.49. That done I carry my art supplies out the door and stop off at the book store near buy. Usually at the bookstore I have visions of building myself a little library at my home. Fantasies are a large part of my life. The outcome of these fantasies are usually kind of pathetic. Like the time I thought I I might excel at cake decorating only to be left with a cake adorned by grayish icing at the end of my effort.
You’d think history might deter me from indulging in further attempts to fulfill my high stake fantasies. No.
At the bookstore I realize I need a bottle of water to sooth my dry throat - a result of my hard hour stocking up on supplies.
My sister and her husband are with me in the bookstore. I decide to put my packages in the car while they stay behind. As I leave I turn back my head and happily offer,
“Pick out a book and I will buy it!”
As I say this I’m transported back to when I was about 8 years old.
My sister’s Jill and Linda (I know the name ‘Linda’ is suspiciously close to my own - she’s a step sister) and I are in a mall with my step-mother Lillian. Jill and Linda are around 3 year older than me.
“Each of you pick out a book or magazine and I’ll pay for them when I get back”. Lillian (Mum) says this as she rushes into the mall; she needs to go to another store next door.
We are excited about the whole thing. There is anxiety and joy to the offer. I quickly realize that if either of us fail to make a decision by the time she returns that person is out of luck.
I start to sweat a little. It’s all a bit much for me. What do I want? What are ‘they’ getting? Do I want the biggest book? What kind? Am I too old for scratch-n-sniff? Can I get two small books if they add up to one of their books? Does it have to be educational?
The perimeters were too big for me. Any book? Help. My eyes are scanning the aisles and studying the door for Lillian’s return at the same time.
I notice Jill slowly perusing the ‘Jr. Novel’ section; Linda has stopped completely in front of the crossword/word game section. I’m losing it. How the hell do they know what they want? and Why aren’t they taking this seriously?
My kaleidoscope vision lands on a book. It’s paperback size. It doesn’t really stand out, but I have decided it’s the one. I turn my head to the door - she’s back.
I take my book to the register and Mom pays for all three. Jill has a Judy Blume-like thing and Linda, as expected, picked the crossword puzzle book.
I look down at mine. It’s called ‘The Nitty Gritty’.
It’s your average paperback size. On the front cover there is a picture of a pimp. Wearing a white ‘Saturday Night Fever’ suit and a white fedora.
Of course at the time I don’t realize “Charlie’ is a pimp.
It’s funny that Lillian didn’t approve or disapprove of our choices. Her mind must have been on other things. When you’re a kid you think that they only think of you.
Since she didn’t say anything about “The Nitty Gritty”, I assumed everything was okay. On the way home Jill looked a little suspicious. I fended off the skepticism by saying loudly “Oh, this is by my favourite author, I just love his work”. I was eight; I had just finished Charlotte’s Web. What the fuck did I know about a writer’s body of work?
Over the next few days I attempt to read “The Nitty Gritty’. The first chapter called ‘Charlie and the Winos’ was, quite frankly, a bitch. It was written in slang, “Charlie you ain’t no gonna scam sista from da’ doughshe done made in da streets”. I persevere. It seems that pimp Charlie was accused of stabbing someone and had to hide out in some slum.
I secretly pined for ‘Charlotte’s Web Part II’.
One afternoon as I entered the ‘Nitty Gritty’ world I noticed my brother Ian cocking his head in front of me, staring at the front cover.
“Lynn. Lyyynnn” Ian is 6 years older.
“What are you reading?”
“What? It’s a book Mum bought me”
Ian snatches the book from my hands and flips thought it. When he sees ‘Charlie and the Winos’ he starts to laugh.
Lynn. I’ll let you keep reading this book and not tell Mum and Dad if you can tell me what a wino is.”
“Um….I totally know what it is. Duh.”
“Well…. what is it?”
He enjoys watching me squirm.
“Well, for your information a wino is a guy who works in gutters and whines about it all the time. Sometimes he gets a black eye”
I was immediately banned from the Nitty Gritty until I was old enough to understand it. It and all of it’s socio-economic implications. Until that time came it was kept in a cupboard, high up in the kitchen next to other ‘untouchables’ such as first aid kit, rubbing alcohol, maps and stuff.
Every time that cupboard door opened, I was reminded of my ignorance and incorrect ‘wino’ definition.
I did however know exactly how a chair is moved. How to stand on a chair. Reach up and……..
So, that all went through my mind yesterday, in the time it took to look at and away from Jan and Floyd at Barnes and Noble.
The painting has begun…….
