The Rolling Stones got all the credit. All the money. But they owe me. Long before “Paint It Black”
rocked the music world, a strange little girl in Miss Matson’s kindergarten class at Gifford Elementary
would only color in black. No bold magenta, no chartreuse, no cerulean, not so much as a bland umber.
Black crayon every single time. Only.
rocked the music world, a strange little girl in Miss Matson’s kindergarten class at Gifford Elementary
would only color in black. No bold magenta, no chartreuse, no cerulean, not so much as a bland umber.
Black crayon every single time. Only.
Evidently this must have been cause for alarm and I was hustled at some point in 1951 to an office to
meet with what must have been one of the world’s earliest school psychologists. At least in Elgin. I
was made to play with little dolls in front of her. I can only imagine the dolls must have lost their voices,
much as I had at school, being shy in the extreme.
meet with what must have been one of the world’s earliest school psychologists. At least in Elgin. I
was made to play with little dolls in front of her. I can only imagine the dolls must have lost their voices,
much as I had at school, being shy in the extreme.
And so, to the horror of my mother, this hussy of a woman came unbidden to our home for an
assessment. Nobody ever came to our home. We could play outside all we wanted with the
neighborhood kids, but no one came in. Ever. Mom was fastidious, and I just think she wanted to
keep her world in order, up to her standards. So I never learned what take away the school had from
that. But I expect I was marked. Were I to be able to see those long ago records, I might hesitate.
Dum, dum, dum da dum dum!
assessment. Nobody ever came to our home. We could play outside all we wanted with the
neighborhood kids, but no one came in. Ever. Mom was fastidious, and I just think she wanted to
keep her world in order, up to her standards. So I never learned what take away the school had from
that. But I expect I was marked. Were I to be able to see those long ago records, I might hesitate.
Dum, dum, dum da dum dum!
But if that’s ominous, there’s more to the dark side lurking in my distant past. Maybe, just maybe,
I could have been oversensitive a bit to my Mother’s rebukes for whatever havoc I must have caused
here and there. I would be guilted and terrified by “The Look” as her stormy face and flashing eyes
signaled the fast approaching end of days.
I could have been oversensitive a bit to my Mother’s rebukes for whatever havoc I must have caused
here and there. I would be guilted and terrified by “The Look” as her stormy face and flashing eyes
signaled the fast approaching end of days.
And yet I must have felt all the dreaded spankings at the end of those “Wait till your Father gets home”
sort of days didn’t quite atone for my egregious transgressions. I became convinced that I needed to
fully bury myself under the sheets at night, so that the hit men my parents had hired and had hidden in
the bedroom walls to kill me in retribution would have a hard time hitting their target in the dark. After all,
we lived only an hour or so from Chicago, it was inevitable. But those jokers must have been a particular
kind of inept to have to show up night after night only to be foiled yet again by my magic sheets. So it
worked out for me, and I survived and learned in my ever so early years how to cope with the mob and
claustrophobia… and triumph. Take that, Al Capone wannabes!
sort of days didn’t quite atone for my egregious transgressions. I became convinced that I needed to
fully bury myself under the sheets at night, so that the hit men my parents had hired and had hidden in
the bedroom walls to kill me in retribution would have a hard time hitting their target in the dark. After all,
we lived only an hour or so from Chicago, it was inevitable. But those jokers must have been a particular
kind of inept to have to show up night after night only to be foiled yet again by my magic sheets. So it
worked out for me, and I survived and learned in my ever so early years how to cope with the mob and
claustrophobia… and triumph. Take that, Al Capone wannabes!
And then there was the FACT that I was literally the daughter of the Devil himself. (Longggg before I
had any idea what that literally meant.) Certain that the entire world was aware of this inconvenient truth
as well, I led a semi-solitary existence, escaping only to watch Saturday morning cartoons or play all
day with half a dozen neighbor kids. These “normals” never let on that they were aware of my vile
identity, playing their roles seamlessly, no doubt secretly frightened/repulsed- have to give them credit.
The only person I figured who was able to lovingly deal with me despite my being this appalling entity was
my Grandma Lucy. She was also the only religious person I knew, so that she could be gracious to the
spawn of Satan was quite remarkable. And don't think I didn't appreciate it! I don’t remember at what
point my pedigree changed and I was no longer the sole progeny of Evil, Inc., but it did, eventually. I
guess that’s what Genealogy is for.
had any idea what that literally meant.) Certain that the entire world was aware of this inconvenient truth
as well, I led a semi-solitary existence, escaping only to watch Saturday morning cartoons or play all
day with half a dozen neighbor kids. These “normals” never let on that they were aware of my vile
identity, playing their roles seamlessly, no doubt secretly frightened/repulsed- have to give them credit.
The only person I figured who was able to lovingly deal with me despite my being this appalling entity was
my Grandma Lucy. She was also the only religious person I knew, so that she could be gracious to the
spawn of Satan was quite remarkable. And don't think I didn't appreciate it! I don’t remember at what
point my pedigree changed and I was no longer the sole progeny of Evil, Inc., but it did, eventually. I
guess that’s what Genealogy is for.
So yes, in all modesty, I invented Paranoia. But the important take is, do you think there’s a market for
magic sheets?
magic sheets?
