Happy Early Mother’s Day, Dear Readers. I’m sending this Letter From Elba now because I’m going to be celebrating out of town and this is my last post until Sunday, May 15. Hope your upcoming holiday is wonderful.
That’s Natasha, Nick and yours truly taken on Mother’s Day 1985. (Very 80’s, btw. Short hair. BIG shoulders.)
We’re in our back yard, and judging by Nick’s sport jacket, we’re on the way to the club for the Mother’s Day dinner.
Old photographs are bittersweet, aren’t they? The time has flown so fast. Today Natasha is almost 38, Nick is 36 and I’m…
None of your business.
And it all went by in a blink of an eye.
(Mother’s Day 2015. Nick 30 pounds heavier than he is today. Lots and lots of snowboarding.)
But it brings me to my story…
As many of you already know, Nick calls me “Dude.”
This started when he was a pre-teen. At eleven, he went in for skateboarding in a BIG way.
It seems that I woke up one morning and Nick’s walls were suddenly covered with spectacular photographs of California guys defying both the laws of gravity and barbershops. Posters proclaiming “Skate or Die!” had pride of place.
His room became a graveyard of outgrown decks and worn-out wheels. And catalogs from exotically-named companies like Cali4niaSKATExpress spontaneously generated in our mail box.
Words like “geek,” “toasty” and “poser” mysteriously crept into the dinner table vernacular.
And before you could say, “Tony Hawk,” Nick had morphed into a full-fledged skatehead- or “thrasher”- as they are affectionately known to law enforcement officials the world over.
Nick was totally immersed in the culture.
He couldn’t walk through a mall, an airport or a parking lot without sizing up its potential as a skate park. He couldn’t see a swimming pool without dreaming of draining it. And he pestered me so much that I remember that Mother’s Day in 1991, I asked for- and received- a skateboard ramp to be built in our yard.
(Nick was pretty handy spray painting it with skulls, as I recall.)
The Red Hot Chili Peppers constantly played in our house.
Thrasher Magazine and Transworld became required reading.
I read them, too.
OMG.
I was horrified by their editorial content. These rags promoted the joys of doing nothing and the blatant flouting of ALL authorty figures.
Especially parents.
They also featured a high degree of, shall we say, “scatological humor.”
From my maternal vantage point, these magazines appeared to be written by morons for an audience of wanna-be delinquents. I was sick with worry whenever I thought of the possible effects of this propaganda on my impressionable sweet child.
But then I remembered that luckily, Nick, never read anything.
He only cut out the pictures.
The Beavis and Butthead obsession also stoked the “Dude” fuel.
Nick used to make me watch every episode with him.
And when we moved full-time to Colorado in 1996, the “Dude” monicker took on a whole other layer of meaning.
Nick was sixteen at the time and he liked to date “older” women. 18 to 20 year old girls who were good snowboarders- and had their own cars and crash pads.
“But I don’t want them to know that I live with my mother,” he explained. “So I tell them that you’re my landlord, Dude. Don’t blow it.”
Deal.
So it’s been “Dude” ever since.
(When Nick calls me “Mom,” I know something awful has happened.)
I won’t be here on Sunday May 8, so just let me say now
Party on, Dudes.
Happy Mother’s Day, Ellen, a week in advance. Your two kids were beautiful in the ’80s, and are beautiful in the present day.
I can’t contribute a lot to the dialogue about boarding (skate, snow, water, …) or dudes, but I can reflect about my own mother, whose April 29 birthday conveniently comes less than two weeks before Mother’s Day, every year. Click on the link and search for “Mantle” and “Namath” for two endearing anecdotes that your readers might enjoy.
My parents relocated from New York City to Chicago in the mid-’70s, with some reluctance. I was already in graduate school, and it took a long time for Chicago to really feel like “home.” On one of my earlier summer visits, my mother agreed to accompany me to a Cubs vs. Mets game at Wrigley Field. This was long long before they installed lights, so obviously it was an afternoon game … a very windy afternoon too, as I recall.
How can I put this delicately? The outfit Mom chose to wear would have been more apropos for a night at the Chicago Lyric Opera. Nevertheless, I couldn’t have been more thrilled that she was willing to go that extra mile to share one of my own passions. I miss her a lot, and think about her every day but especially on her birthday and on Mother’s Day.
Thanks for the memories, George. I’m so glad that Chicago got to claim your parents as residents- even for a little while. They were a respected and admired addition to our fair city’s medical and scientific community and we were lucky to get them.
Your reminiscence reminds me of the “Pride of the Yankees” scene when Lou Gehrig takes his mother to a baseball game. A lovely and funny moment shared between a mother and son. Play ball.
Dude! Thanks for reminding me of one of my favorite sports-related movies. Let’s just hope they don’t name a disease after me.
BTW, my parents lived in Chicago for 37 years, and after a while, I adopted your toddling town as my home away from home.
We’re honored. (But will you root for the Cubs?)
Dude, get serious! You root for whatever team (or the laundry thereof) you rooted for as a ten-year old. So, yeah, it’s Mets first, though I’ve also adopted the Twins to coincide with the town where I raised my own family. If it’s any consolation to you and Kenny, though, the Cubs make it to my top five.
Shameless crossword puzzle plugs to prove the point: The Confines’ Friendliest, The Play’s the Thing, and Now Playing … [note to non-crossword types from Ellen’s readership, click on the links anyhow, and see if you can identify the respective iconic Chicago Cubs images].
You have NO shame. Typical New Yorker. 😊
Love your story having girls they never got into skateboarding!! Hope you have a blessed Mothers Day & travel safe.
Thanks, Lynn. Yes, you dodged the boarding bullet but I’d hate to have heard the fights over the hair dryer in your house! Thanks for your good wishes and have a great day yourself.
They weren’t to bad considering! Lol
1945 – I was only 15 years old – I went to all 4 home games of the wonderful but sad World Series; Cubs vs. Tigers. We had box seats. I had to wear a coat and tie! Times sure have changed!
2016 – GO CUBS!!!
Very nice, Herbie! Go Cubs indeed! Wishing you and Sally a happy MD. ⚾️
HAPPY MOTHERS DAY E……HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT TRIP, WHEREVER YOU ARE GOING…..BE SAFE
Thanks, my friend. Wishing you and your family a very happy day.