Mom's Opinions

I spent lots of time with Mom when I was growing up, especially after Dad died in 1971. She was a very needy and jealous mother. She didn't understand why I wanted to play with children my own age and limited my opportunity to interact with peers. Since I had to hang around with her so much, I got to hear her opinions and thoughts on lots of subjects.  I asked her lots of questions, and got some pretty hilarious answers in some cases. Here are some of the ones I remember: 

During a shopping trip to College Grove Mall, Mom drove past the Jewish neighborhood, which, up until the 80s, was located in the SDSU area of San Diego.  Back then there were a number of Jewish shops, including a large bagel bakery called Super Bagels. They had a big sign out front with a giant bagel on it. I was intrigued. 

Me: Mom, what's a bagel? can I try one? 

Mom: You don't want to try one of those things. A bagel is just a stale donut. 

Me: Why are they selling stale donuts? Aren't they fresh when they first bake them? 

Mom: No, they are always stale. Some people like them. But we like real donuts from Winchells. 

Grocery store trips usually occurred once a month, when Mom got her Social Security check. She preferred the Big Bear on Adams Avenue in Normal Heights. Every time we shopped, I was drawn to the colorful cups of Knudsen yogurt in the dairy section. There were so many flavors. Some had fruit on bottom and some were blended. I wanted to try some. 

Me: Mom, can we get some yogurt? I want to try it. 

Mom: Oh, you would hate it. Yogurt is just sour milk in a cup. 

Me: Why do they put sour milk in little containers? Does the fruit make it taste better? Why do people buy sour milk? 

Mom: I don't know. Some people like to eat things that taste like crap. 

Mom loved chili dogs. There used to be a Der Weinerschnitzel hotdog stand on First and Washington Streets, which was just a few blocks from Eagle Street.  Since it was so close to home, we ate a lot of hot dogs for dinner in the 70s. Mom received coupons in the mail every so often. These coupons were usually for discounts on plain dogs or chili dogs.  I had recently noticed something called a kraut dog on the menu and was curious about it:

Me: Hey Mom, what's a kraut dog? Can I try one of those this time? 

Mom: Yuck. Sour Kraut is rotten cabbage. Do you want rotten cabbage on your hot dog? 

Me: Some people must like it because they sell them. Are you sure it is rotten? 

Mom: That's why they call it sour kraut. It is sour because its been sitting around for months getting rotten. 

I loved flowers.  I used to look at the flower gardens that our neighbors lovingly tended everyday, and I wanted to grow flowers in our yard too. One day, after getting scolded by a neighbor for picking one of her Easter lillies, I decided we needed to have our own.

Me:  Mom, do you think we could plant some flowers in the front yard, maybe by the Jasmine bush?

Mom:  What a big waste of time! What the hell is a flower good for? It lives for a couple of days and then it dies. That's useless!  If you want to plant something, plant something we can eat, like a tomato plant. 

(I ended up finding some fake flowers at the church rummage sale and planted them by the Jasmine bush, but it just wasn't the same)

It was always difficult to ask Mom questions about health and hygiene, because her answers either made no sense, caused me embarrassment, or were about her. After watching a TV commercial for lipstick, I had a question: 

Me: When I get older, can I get some lipstick to wear? 

Mom: Women who wear lipstick look like they have a chicken butt on their face. Do you want to look like a chicken's butt? 

Then when I started getting acne as a young teen, I asked Mom if I could go to the doctor for some treatment:

 

Me: Mom, my friends at school went to the doctor and he gave them some cream that dries up their zits. Can you take me to the doctor too? 

Mom, while stroking her own face: I don't know why you are having skin problems. I have always had a beautiful complexion. See my face?  This is what they call a peaches and cream complexion.  You have olive skin.  You probably just need to wash your face more often.

And then there was this: 

Me: Can you get me one of those Daisy Women's razors so I can shave my legs?

Mom, while looking down at her own legs: I never had much of a problem with hair on my legs. Look how nice and smooth my legs are. 

After watching a commercial for feminine hygiene products, there was no way I wanted to broach the subject, but Mom took the opportunity:

Mom:  When the time comes for you, I will make sure you use napkins.  You cannot use those Tampax things, because then you will never be able to find a husband when you grow up.

Me: Why?

Mom: Because they only want virgins.

Here are mom's vocal opinions on other things: 

Tattoos: Anyone who has a tattoo probably is a criminal, a drunk sailor, or a whore.

Cigarettes: You have to be out of your mind to smoke. And a women who smokes sends the message that she carries a mattress on her back. Men who see a woman with a cigarette in her mouth know she is loose.

Alcoholic drinks: Women should never drink.  I went to the Women's Temperance Legion meetings.  We took a pledge:  "I promise not to buy, drink, sell or give, alcoholic beverages while I live."  

When Mom said the word, "public," it was obvious that to her the word had a derogatory connotation.  For instance:

Mom: I can't stand those Catholics, but their schools are so much better than a public school.

Me:  Why are they better?

Mom:  Public schools have to take all the bad kids.  You will catch head lice from public schools.  And you can't trust public school teachers. They try to find out your personal business and then they will have you taken away from me and put in the receiving home, and you will catch head lice there.

And then there is this example:

Mom:  We are getting our own swimming pool put in the backyard, because I don't want you kids in a public pool.

Me:  But my friends get to go to the pool, and they like it there.

Mom:  It's public!  That means you got strangers in the water with you. When I was a kid you caught polio from swimming with strangers. Now there are other diseases in the water.  Do you want to get VD? (Then she dug out a 50s era photo-filled booklet describing sexually transmitted diseases and showed me some pictures to make her point.)

As a child, I often thought about future career options.  I got lots of input from Mom.  First of all, she didn't believe you could "have it all." Her opinions:

 

Working Mothers: They are bad mothers because they use someone else to raise their kids.

When I was in 2nd grade I loved watching The Flying Nun, starring Sally Field.  Her ability to fly made me want to be a nun when I grew up:

Me:  I think I want to be a nun like Sister Bertrille  when I grow up. 

Mom: You would hate it.  Nuns are very unhappy. They were trapped by the Church. The reason why you always see them shopping in pairs is that one will tell on the other if she talks about leaving.  And their heads are shaved so that if they do manage to escape the convent, they are easier to find.

The only working mother on Eagle Street in the 60s and 70s was a nurse. Since her kids had their own boats and got to ride horses and go skiing, I figured maybe their mom might be on to something:

Me:  Maybe I could be a nurse and work in the hospital when I grow up.

Mom:  A nurse? Forget it!  They are nothing but maids. They have to clean bedpans all day. If you want to work in a hospital, be a doctor, not a nurse. They get to boss the nurses around.

And one of the weirdest things Mom said to me, which she repeated quite often as I grew up:

"Stay Wood."

It took me a few decades to figure that one out.

A Hundred Years Since

Mom, aka Carol Jane "Angel" Martindale Tompsett Warriner Young was born on October 31, 1921. It has been 100 years since her blueprint was laid out and put into flesh and blood, 100 years since her creation which resulted in the family members who read this blog. Even those of us who are not "true blood" were affected by her being. If not for her, we would be members of other families, with different memories and different life stories. When she chose to add us to the family,  we became an inescapable part of it forever. 

 Mom was a force to be reckoned with. She was a paradox. She was loved as well as feared. She was also to be pitied, because in her quest to be idolized and adored, she drove nearly all her children away. I have spent many decades sorting out the good and bad memories, as well as the mixed feelings that I still have for her. I no longer wish to never have been adopted into the family, because I know that everyone is assigned to a life experience before birth, and the test is to see how one deals with the hand they are dealt.

Mom's impact on all of us was profound and continues even now.  When she splashed onto the planet she created a ripple that has grown and spread.  Those who are currently navigating the ripple may not know how it started.  This blog was started so that everyone who came after Mom can learn some clues about it. 

I wish I knew what made Mom the way she was. In 1986, after Mom passed away, I tried to get some of my questions answered. No one knew Mom's early years better than her older sister Amy. Unfortunately, Aunt Amy was in the beginning stages of dementia when I contacted her with some "why" questions. Either she could no longer remember, or her old-fashioned sensibilities dictated her short answer to me: "It is all over with now. There is no use bringing up the past." I don't subscribe to that way of thinking. 

History repeats itself if you don't know what happened and why it happened. Knowing your history allows you to deal with mysterious fallout that blankets not only you but also future generations of descendants. Some of the future articles will be quite short, as I will be sharing whatever memory pops into my head. Other articles will explore the final days of her life.