A.K.A. Kathleen
Stories of my Aunt Kathy:
When I was 14 years old she flew me to Washington DC and we spent a whole weekend shopping (at the good stores) and driving around in her red convertible with the top down. She took me to a music store and let me purchase two tapes. One was Europe - The Final Countdown and the other was Van Halen - OU812 and she actually let me listen to them in the car.
When I was 21 years old I lost my paternal grandmother who also lived in Arlington, VA as did my Aunt Kathy and she took me to her office Christmas party (I think to cheer me up). We got all dressed up and when we got there I learned two things. 1) As we were entering the party a pan handler solicited us for money and she taught me how to get out of that situation and 2) I knew at that party I wanted to be a business woman and 10 years later I have achieved that goal.
My Aunt Kathy was married to a wonderful man, my Uncle Phil who sadly passed away way too soon in life. Uncle Phil always had ALL of the latest technology - I mean it! There were never fever than 5 remote controls at all times! Uncle Phil worked for the Copywrite division of the government and he had excellent taste in music and he specifically had Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians. I wanted to make a copy of the tape ... this is how I learned who my Uncle Phil worked for, the copywrite division. I'm not suppose to be dubbing music tapes, duh!
Aunt Kathy has taken me to the hippest restaurants (I went to a Tapas restaurant before anyone knew what Tapas was), the best shows (I have been to the Kennedy Center, Ford Theatre and Broadway) but lately my favorite times with my Aunt Kathy are the ones when we sneak cigarettes together and chat like old friends .
My Aunt Kathy is articulate, beautiful, a great listener, funny, a Redskins fan, and a great cook. These are just a few of my many memories of my Aunt Kathy and no they are not juicy but she is fabulous nonetheless.
posted by Jen @ 9:41 AM
7 Comments:
Well, well, well! What have we here? A community blog that is allowing for some good discussion and revelations. First and foremost, Aunt Kathy should NOT be encouraging the ingestion of any nicotine product. I am appalled and dismayed. Secondly, if you cannot think of anything juicy to say about "Aunt Kathy", then you clearly have not been around her much lately. Perhaps she has turned over a new leaf since her younger days. Now that she is more mature, there is just no telling what trouble she may get into. Better hurry back to Charlotte to witness her mischief. You are inspiring me to start my own blog where I can post the juice . . . the real juice and nothing but the juice. The reality is that I am having too much fun on YOUR blog to start my own. I also could never keep up with your creativity and clever writing style. With that said, on to your dear darling mother. Because she is your mother, it is in your best interest to believe her when she talks about her squeaky clean past. What I have discovered about you is that your imagination is lively. When it comes to your Mom's earlier years, you can let your imagination run wild, even though she says she didn't run wild. The truth is probably somewhere in-between your imagination and her claim of being on the straight and narrow. Your Mom is just not that boring and we all know better about her pursuit of the straight and narrow. The suspicious twinkle in her eye begs a different story./ Thanks for your continued postings. Your Uncle Mikey is enjoying the fun . . .
Uncle Mickey,
Please please feel free to fill me in on all the juicy details of Kathleens life. Perhaps YOU have some purging to do yourself? Let's hear more about my long lost Uncle besides I am sure Kathleen is not getting into trouble all by herself.
I completely agree with you about my mother. The next time I'm in town let's get her liquored up and get her to spill the beans and then we will get her tattooed to commemorate the occasion. I think her straight and narrow persona is just a cover around her children, my father and the rest of the community. At night she is prowling the streets forcing her acid induced art on innocent citizens of the United States.
xxoo,
Jen
Jen, I'll save the Kathy/Kathleen stories for when you're in town. Publishing material such as that could be considered too out of line for your blog, or any blog for that matter. We'll talk. Yes, let's get your Mom into some fine wine and get her to tell us some juicy juice. I can't wait. As far as my purging, again . . . I will have to wait until I see you in person. Although my escapades are a bit less interesting or provocative than your Aunt Kathy's, they still deserve to be shared in person. So, bottom line is this: you need to get your butt to Charlotte. Hope you are having a swell weekend. I just spoke to Kathleen and she is wrapped up in a zillion things as always. Please help me understand why she still does not have broadband in her house. In some ways, she is living like a Pilgrim.
xox
I was blown away by Jen's posting and needed time to think how to reply. So many memories evoked.
First, I must record that I loved every mintue we spent together touring, shopping, dining, and even (especially) sneaking smokes. The trips I've taken with my nieces and nephew are among the joys of my life.
Second, last week marked the anniversary of Phill's death and Jenefer's so-very-accurate comments gave me good reason to both laugh and weep. He was, indeed, an early adapter -- he bought the first of everything that could be watched, heard, played and plugged in from sound systems to computers to what must have been the country's first VCR. He had to write out directions so I could watch the freakin' (first-on-the-block) big screen TV that he bought. What, I ask, is so advanced about having five remotes instead of one?
Third, Jen asked for stories, so I hereby offer one that I wrote a couple of years ago. It harkens back to the trip we took to New York, but this story is about my mother -- yet another generation. Here is it, with a nod to having taken literary license in the writing of it:
MANHATTAN MAMMA
I love going back to New York. I love that being there, you don’t have to open your eyes to know where you are; it is a city with sounds and smells and a feeling all its own.
When I was four or five or so, my mother would wake me up before daylight sometimes and take me from Long Island into the city. We rode the train in, and I remember St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and the zoo, and the Horne & Hardart Automat at lunch, and going to my father’s office in Rockefeller Center.
We moved from New York when I was 11, but I returned often as a grown-up. I had business trips there, stayed at fine hotels, saw first-run plays, and shopped on Fifth Avenue. I made speeches, and introduced clients to out-of-the-way restaurants, and thought I knew the city well.
Once I went there not on business, but with my mother, just for a few days. We did all the usual things, Broadway, museums, shops, and restaurants.
My mother, who was born in New York and had worked there before she married, led the way. She knew the bus and subway systems, which hadn’t much changed from her day, and I, accustomed to hailing taxicabs, followed her lead.
We had a great time: Idle chatter, women talking, sharing knowledge, experience, trading the secrets of our generations. Bits of information, threads of conversation, observations, and revelations were doled out like pieces of candy as we walked the city.
My stay-at-home mother of three with her hazel eyes and auburn hair, homemaker, corporate wife, hostess, Scout leader, craft-maker, fund-raiser, had been a manager in a company that employed thousands of men back when women weren’t deemed to be management material. She’d been a young woman who had worked 16-hour days, commuted by train and bus, and walked home down the middle of the street at midnight for safety. Who made more money than my Dad before she traded her job for children. Who wanted to go to college, but was told girls didn't do that. Who appreciated art and architecture, and could talk about buildings, and had an eye for color and form and life, and wanted to be a designer.
She led me through the Battery, the Bowery, Uptown, Downtown, east and west. The Garment District, the Financial District, the Diamond District, all by subway and bus and on foot. We walked, we ate, we laughed, we drank, and we drank in.
Years later, I hungered for a fix, and took my niece and nephew to the city. I hadn’t been there in several years; they, never.
-
I led them through the Battery, the Bowery, Uptown, Downtown, east and west. The Garment District, the Financial District, the Diamond District, all by subway and bus and on foot. We walked, we ate, we laughed, we drank, and we drank in.
And I, their sophisticated aunt, who knew all these places and streets and modes of transportation, led the way. I loved that they loved the city. I loved that I was able to show them around. They were so very impressed. But I knew. I knew.
Kathleen Gill
Copyright 2004
I keep checking for a new posting, but so far . . .nothing new. You are becoming a source of daily entertainment. I read, you write. Please keep up your end of the bargain. U. Mikey
I keep checking and checking and checking and checking and checking and checking and there ain't nothing new here. How long will you make your fan club wait?
MW
Great site loved it alot, will come back and visit again.
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