Truly Funny: The Ninth of Ten Children
I came of age from 1955 (age 3) to 1968 (16) as the ninth of ten children and two parents living in a 2,500 sq ft, five-bedroom, two-bathroom house. The characteristics of these twelve Irish Catholics ranged from extreme introvert to extreme extrovert, all of whom aspired to bend the chaos in their favor. Reflecting on my experiences, a good comedian could create humor from the following truths.
- We never had a station wagon, mini-van or SUV. Do the visual on (usually) eight or nine humans in 1963 Buick. Yep, four in the front, five in the back, arranged by size and weight and maneuverability. Doors exploded as soon as the car stopped.
- Bathing at young ages was an experience; imagine being the youngest in water used for more than one child. And some summer Saturday nights being sent to Lake Erie (over the bank) with a bar of soap and a towel.
- We had a milkman who delivered one or two crates of dairy products at least three times a week
- Note: Disposable diapers had not been invented.
- Do the visual on my 4’ 11” former professional journalist mom having her first of seven children at 36 while managing 4-, 6- and 7-year-old boys.
- She was saved by a cleaning woman (Portuguese immigrant named Mrs. Kelly) who came three days a week to (also) keep 12 people in clean clothes using one washing machine and a commercial ironing machine (called a mangle).
- The only restaurants I remember going to were for family events or after funerals, but a summer after dinner treat was Morrissey’s ice cream shop.
- All but three of us had at least one broken bone in our childhood – lucky Dad was a doctor. And every one of us had at least ten stitches, mostly sewn into our skin while we sat atop the kitchen freezer, the same spot also used for our haircuts.
- In the morning and evenings, pounding on the bathroom doors and yelling was so constant that, like living near train tracks, you longer heard it.
- Mom used a referee’s whistle to call us home from the neighborhood.
- Someone was always telling someone else what to do
- Until our big brothers got into business and took us out, I don’t remember having things like real steak or real shrimp. My Mom was a great baker but cooked (by necessity) like a school lunch lady.
- Each one of us can remember the day, time and place we looked around and found out our family had already gone home. Note: Mom was great with head counts, Dad…not so much.