Month: July 2010

Darker than the Inside of a Cow’s Belly

Mid-1940’s

When he woke up it was darker than the inside of a cow’s belly.  As the story goes, it took him a little bit of time just to figure out where he was. 

Ted “Legs & Eyeballs” Armstrong was a childhood friend of my father.  As kids, Ted, Paul Beck and my dad along with a number of other local boys used to love to go the ISIS Theater and take in whatever movie was popular at the time.  

Back then Jimmy Parsons was the owner of the theater and the Blue Drug.  His two kids took turns running the businesses.   In the end, Warren “Buckshot” and Carletta (Johnson) Parsons ran the Aspen Drug, often referred as “The Blue Drug” where Warren was the pharmacist while his Sister, Marjorie and her husband, Earl Jenkinson ran the theater and lived in the apartment above the theater.  Earl also worked for the Electric Department as their billing clerk.  Each night after the movie was over and the crowd had left Marjorie or Earl would lock up the place and board the exit doors.  With the theater all secure and the lights off, off to bed they went.

On this particular night, Ted’s friends quietly exited the theater after the moved had ended but intentionally left Ted behind, fast asleep.   Without noticing Ted asleep in his chair, Percy or Mattie followed their usual routine and locked the place up.

No one knows for sure what time it was when Ted finally woke up but one thing was sure, he woke up in total darkness.   After figuring out where he was, Ted began to look for a way out.  Fumbling around in the seats and down the aisles without a speck of light, Ted eventually got to one of the boarded up, locked exit doors.  Finally outside of the Theater, Ted headed home while he plotted his revenge.  Although I am not sure what his revenge eventually was, rest assured, Ted was never one to let things go un-punished.

Every time Ted, my dad and any other friends got together the story of Ted’s movie adventure was told and retold.  Decades later, the story never got any less funny.

Sleep tight “Legs & Eyeballs!”

Life’s Lesson #1, 2 or was it 3?

1975

There are those times when you do something that alters your perception or tolerance for the rest of your life, a life lesson of sorts.  I was in my eighth grade year and I was all too willing to test my physical and parental limits.

Long before any of us could drive our proclivity for throwing or participating in a good party was already well established.  Sure, kids of all ages are good at partying whether it is “bobbing for apples,” poking some poor donkey’s tail in the middle of its nose to teenage backyard pool parties.  By the time my generation was in seventh grade, our parties were taking on the look and feel of the parties our parents were throwing. 

Every town used to have that one adult who was all too willing to go to the local liquor store to buy alcohol for the underage kids in town.  His fee was a bottle of his favorite liquor.  Throughout the summer my friends and I had called upon his services on a number of occasions.  He lived above one of the local liquor stores and always had his head out the window of his second floor apartment.  He enjoyed the company of the kids but not in a bad way.  His judgment may have been a bit clouded when it came to buying liquor for minors but that was where it stopped.  He never attended any of our parties or attempted to date the teenage girls.  Besides, in the winter he was one of Aspen’s most highly respected ski instructors.

On this particular day, my friends and I were in need of some “booze.”  Ruthie Waddington was throwing a birthday party in the basement of their hotel over on the corner of Hyman Avenue and Garmisch.  The party was unlike most of our “soirees” as this one was approved by her parents, well not the drinking part.  The three of us each purchased, or had our “friend” purchase, a bottle of Peppermint Schnapps which went along nicely with all the beer and pizzas someone else provided.

As the night went on we each proceeded to drink most of the Schnapps ourselves, giving little to the rest of the party goers.  As for me, the Schnapps and pizza went down easily and came back up even easier.  At some point I was removed from the party by Lorna or Chuck, Ruthie’s parents, and laid down in one of the rooms to “sleep it off.” 

I woke up in my own bed sometime the next morning to my father calling me from downstairs.  Apparently, I had some chores to do.  Aside from the slamming cupboard doors, the electric mixer and police scanner, I would say that our house was as quiet a place anyone could find.  My hangover was colossal and my father made sure I felt it.  Immediately following breakfast I was assigned the duty of mowing the lawn.  Now anyone who has ever had a hangover knows that work in the hot sun with a very loud electric lawnmower is the last thing you would want to do.  My father took advantage of my condition to “teach me a lesson.”  That day was filled chores and outdoor activities, all of which were part of the “life lesson” that my parents were giving me. 

As for me, not only did I learn my lesson on drinking too much (I still have to take remedial courses every now and then), but I am no longer able to consume anything that even remotely tastes like Peppermint Schnapps, mint liquor or hard alcohol of the clear variety.