Tell You About My Mother

I've been wanting to catalog stories about my Mom. Some of the crazy things she did when we were young like always carrying a Louisville Slugger in her van because we lived in rough and tumble Inglewood, CA. Or the time when that kid threw a brick at her car and she exacted her revenge (classic!). Then there's the whole prostitute story with my brother Skip, but that has more to do with Skip than anything. My mom splashing people waiting at the bus stop on wet rainy days as she drove us to school was fun. If a little mean. But she was young. Heck, she had five kids by the time she was 27!


Tell You About My Mother - Skip and the Prostitute

I'll start with the prostitute story since briefly mentioning it in the sentence above makes it sound worse than it really is. And again this story isn't really about my Mom, but maybe it will set the tone of what our lives were like growing up in Inglewood during the 1970s:

My Mom was always driving a van pool of kids (hers and others') to and from school, little league, gymnastics, whatever. Back in the day (the 70s), the stretch of Imperial Hwy in Inglewood between Prairie and Crenshaw was streetwalker row. There was always a swarm of working girls of all shapes and sizes out in broad daylight soliciting for their next Johns. It was nothing shocking to us. That was Inglewood back then. Heck, we even had whore houses on our block.




Irving Fenstermocker the IIIrd aka Ulysses, Jr., aka Skip
So my Mom stops for a red light. Van full of kids, of course. And on the corner is a lady of the evening working the afternoon shift. My oldest brother Skip (his name is Ulysses Jr., but we've always called him Skip) had to be around 13 or 14 years old. And being the little shit he was at the time, he rolls down the window and yells out to the prostitute "How much?"

The prostitute replies, "Ask yo' mama!"

Oooh, that was a helluva hilarious come back. But in what I consider to be one of the best punch lines anyone has ever come up with, my young teenage brother Skip replies

"I would mama, but you're never home!"

Fucking brilliant.



My mom, the van, my brother Scott (next to mom), me inside the van in pigtails next to my Dad and either my brother Sean or Skip partially cut off in the picture.    

Tell You About My Mother - Happiness is A Warm Gun
Happiness is a warm gun, unless you're pointing it at a crazy lady behind the wheel of a van.

"What up blood?" "What up cuz?" was a common greeting when I was a kid. It was the way you'd check if someone was a member of the Crips or the Bloods. But since most people my age were way too young to be in a gang, it was more a way to check which neighborhood you were from.

Back in the 70s Inglewood was Blood territory. But we lived about 2 blocks from the Los Angeles County line where the Crips took over. In fact my grammar school was in Crip territory. So, yeah, that was fun!

Does this mean I or any member of my family or my friends routinely interacted with gang members? Hardly! We were kids and this is what many of the younger set did to emulate the older assholes who made up all this stupid crap. We had no concept of its meaning. Just if you answered wrong, it could end up in a school yard fight. Of course, I never got in to a fight for that particular reason (I mean, look at me?), but I do recall being chased once.

I bring up the whole gang situation for this story because back in those days gangs weren't as deadly as they are now. There wasn't the widespread availability of guns. I mean you could get robbed or beat up, but there were no such things as drive by shootings until years later.

Now I don't know if this kid was a gang member or not, or if the gun he had was real or not (most likely not), but one day he decided to point it at the wrong lady. My mom was at a gas station on the corner of Century and Crenshaw in Inglewood, gasing up the van. You know, have kids, will travel. After gassing up she was starting to drive away when this kid decides to stand near the front of the van and point the gun at her. Us kids were in the back.

Either my mom is the bravest soul on the planet or the craziest, but one thing I know is she was all about the take no shit. Especially not from some kid. She had three sons of her own, not to mention 14 other boys on our block who all respected and knew not to mess with her.

So, dumbass is pointing the gun and something in my Mom clicked. She shifts the van into neutral and guns the engine which I'm sure rattled the Louisville Slugger laying across the dash board. The kid's eyes widen. The engine revs louder. Then she shifts the van into some weird inbetween gear which causes the van to make some horrendous frightening sound and lurch forward a bit.

I'm pretty sure my Mom never had any intention of running the kid over. Not that I'd put it past her if it came to that. But she called his bluff and that was enough. The kid took off. Hopefully to never pull a stunt like that again.

Den mother    

Tell You About My Mother - At the Drive-In
Oh Century Drive-In! How many memories I have of you!

So my family was of the just scraping by variety. Dave Chappelle has a bit in his act about "What is Juice?!?!? I want Drink!" We didn't have juice in our household on a regular basis until I was a teenager. I recently found out why our family went camping so much - because it was cheap! I just thought my parents really loved camping, but it was the only way they could afford a vacation with all of their kids. Lastly, I'd heard of walk-in movie theaters but I had never been in one until I was ten. It was always the good ole Century Drive-In in Inglewood for us!

And, of course, because it was in Inglewood meant going to a movie could be an adventure in itself. Like one particular night my mom packed us all in the van along with my cousin Eve-lyn who was living with us at the time. My older brothers did the usual 'hide so we can save some money' thing. We settle in to our spot and hook that lovely monophonic heavy steel speaker on the window.

It must have been stuffy in the car because we had the windows down. I think the first guy to approach my mom on the driver's side asked for money. 'Sorry, how 'bout some drink? It's purple.' Okay, that part didn't happen but if we're hiding people to even get in the place, who has money?

The next set of guys to approach the window, well, they wanted money too. But rather than pan handle, they decided to attempt robbery. One guy approached the passenger front side where my cousin was sitting, one guy approach my mom and started talking to her:

"Hey, lady. See my friend over there? He's crazy!"

"Hey. You see this lady sitting here? She's crazy too. And she's got a gun pointed right at you!"

Doh! She totally bluffed him. But if you've ever heard my mom talk crazy you'd be scared too. She gets this look like she's seriously insane and will fuck yo shit up, yo!

At that point my brothers got into the act. We had chains in the back of our van so they start rattling them around and barking like we had our German Shepherds with us. My cousin Eve-lyn rolled up her window with her foot. The would be thugs didn't risk it. They left us alone.

Later, as we were exiting the drive-in a guy waived us down asking for help because a couple guys had just robbed him.

Meeeemmmooories... Century Drive-In was ultimately torn down to make way for a Costco.

P.S - And my nephew Steven, who's parents were able to work their way up to a far more comfortable manner of living than we had, use to complain they'd never buy "Drink!" Bless his heart and rest his soul.

   

Tell You About My Mother - The Universal Sign of Don't F**k With Me
Down to the last two. Stories that is. It was difficult to choose which one to end on, so I'm going to let time dictate the decision. I'll answer the question of what happens to you when you throw a brick at my mom's car last since that's the order in which these events happened.

But THIS one is for my nieces and nephews as it involves the misadventures of their dad/uncle/my brother Skip yet again.

Grandpa Skip

This second to last story takes place in the summer of '77 or '78. At the time my sister was one of the top gymnast in the United States. That meant I spent a lot of time with my mom and my sis while she trained for the Olympics (1980 - what a banner Olympics that turned out to be for America /sarcasm) We were always at her gym in Culver City. And in case you're wondering, yes, I did a little training too, but decided to abandon the sport when they wanted me to train for competition. I didn't want to dance around in that skimpy outfit.

Anyway, at least summers at the gym were fun. Summer meant Gymnastics Summer Camp! The gym we went to also attracted a lot of kids who's parents were in the television and movie industry. Imagine lower middle class kids from rough and tumble Inglewood mixing with rich Jewish kids from Beverly Hills? It was great. We all got along and got to see glimpses of how the other half lived. (Well except for me and one of the sons of actor Yaphet Kotto who fucking broke my arm! But that's another story.) It definately made for interesting field trips.

None more momentous than our outing to Universal Studios this one summer. Back when JAWS, the Six Million Dollar Man revolving tunnel and Cylon Attack were the big attractions. Yes, ancient history. My mom was designated one of the drivers because she had the van. She had her R/T Inglewood crew with her along with some of the 90210 kids who attended summer camp with us. And of course the ever present Louisville Slugger on the dashboard.

The actual trip through Universal Studios went off without a hitch. Things didn't get dicey until we all piled back in the van to leave the amusement park and head back to the gym. Seemed like everyone and their mother (ha!) was leaving at the same time. There was a long line of traffic stretcing all the way down the hill to get out of Universal. So what do you do for fun when you're young and stuck in boring traffic?

If you're my brother Skip you start making hand gestures to the other people stuck in traffic. And none too nice ones at that. There were two guys in a car waiting to merge into the lane. Skip, for whatever reason, decides to give them the finger. They didn't like that too much. In fact they were pissed! They start yelling and wailing on their car horn.

Oh shit. What did he do that for? Thankfully just at that moment the line of traffic we were in began moving. We get halfway down the hill before traffic comes to a dead stop again. And Skip's new "friends" decide to drive down the empty oncoming traffic lanes and to follow us.

We stop.

They stop.

Only this time they hop out of their car and run over to our van. My mom still has no idea what's going on. Just all of a sudden these two guys are standing next to her van - yelling and cursing at my brother. Then one of the guys starts to beat up our van door!!

Now all hell breaks loose. The gym kids are freaking out. Skip's laughing. And my mom is going "what the hell?!?!"

Before the guy can get another punch in traffic starts to move. Of course Skip, every the young gentleman, manages to squeeze off a couple parting middle fingers to the guys before we zoom down the hill. Way to go, bro.

We zoom down hill only get stuck in traffic again! Just before the exit, too. Now we're slowly pulling up to the guard gate at the exit when out of the window I see those two guys had followed us again! This time they pull over near a fence, hop out of their car and being walking towards the van. My mom catching sight of them flips into 'don't fuck with me' mode. She turns the van towards the two guys and starts gunning the engine, screaming "I'll run yo' ass over! I'll run yo' ass over!"

Thankfully she doesn't. She stops. The security guard comes up to my mom's window only to be ambushed by the two guys screaming that they want my brother arrested. My mom's all "I want THEM arrested!" You're a towel. No, you're a towel! (tm "South Park") And now I'm freaking out because I know any second now my mom is going to reach for that bat. Luckily, the security guard gets the two guys under control. One more "I want THEM arrested!" from momsey and she burns rubber out of the lot to take us all back to the gym.

The gym kids are totally freaked out as steady chorus of "What happened?" rings through the air. I play dumb. Probably because I was mortified lol. "I don't know," I say. But I knew exactly what had happened. And Skip ... was still laughing his ass off.

Sigh... I wonder where those kids are now and if they remember their exciting trip to Universal Studios during that summer in the late 70s.

Diamonds in the back. Sunroof top. Diggin the scene with the gansta lean. Ooohwhooo-oooh. Song's been in my head all week.

Tell You About My Mother - The Brickman's Last Stand

Sigh, here we are to the the last great thing my mother did. Now she's taken on the role of dispenser of wisdom to her grandchildren telling them such wise gems as "Go play in some traffic" and "Don't let no spooks ride in yo' car." The kids love it because their Nana is ghetto.

Sooooo some time around 1982 I believe, my mom is driving the blue Ford Maverick we had at the time down the 'Shaw (Crenshaw Blvd that is) in Inglewood. Somewhere near Brolly Hut (which I've eaten there for at least 30 years of my life and can't believe the same guy runs the place)

It's morning in Inglewood. Kids are walking to school. Mom is driving down Crenshaw. One of said kids walking to school decides to be mischevious, probably to impress his group of friends. He picks up a brick and hurls it at a passing car. BAM!!! Too bad the car he bullseyed was my mother's.

So said kids take off running. Said mom pulls a Starsky and Hutch and turns the car around, drives up on some sidewalk and chases said kids down. She manages the corner them between the Ford Maverick and a building nearby. There's no way out. She gets out the car fuming!

"I knew I couldn't hit them." said my mom at the time. You know, because there are laws against that shit. It was the 80s. Not like the 70s when you could pass around ass whippin's to other peoples kids and their parents would thank you for it. Anyway, "I knew I couldn't hit them," so she identified the one who hurled the brick and told all the kids, except him, to leave and go to school.

By now this kid was ready to shit a brick. Cornered. My mom standing in front of him, eyes flashing, clenching her fists. What's she gonna do?

"Take off your shoes."

"What?"

"Take off your shoes!" momsey yells.

The kids takes off his shoes.

"Take off your socks." Socks. "Take of your shirt." Shirts gone.

"Now, take of your pants."

"What?"

"TAKE OFF YO' PANTS!!" Pants off.

My mom grabs up his shoes, socks, shirt and pants into a bundle and then hurls them all in the middle of a busy intersection on Crenshaw Blvd. A shoe lands one place, shirt another...Traffic's rushing back and forth everywhere over his shit.

She turns back to the kid and says, "Now go to school!"

The kid takes off running. His friends are laughing their asses off. My mom goes home, calmly calls the police and tells them there's a kid walking down Crenshaw Blvd in his underwear. "What?"

She then relays the whole story of what happened that morning to them. The officers are cracking up so much they pass around the phone for her to repeat the story to nearly everyone at the station.

Wonder whatever happened to that kid? And if he's telling his kids some crazy lady made him strip to his underwear after he threw a brick at her car.

I love my mom :)