Room with a View

We interrupt this normal Petey Porn day for......well, just another post.

While traveling this week, I got no new shots of the precious pooch. Sure, I could pull back old ones I had not used, but then I thought, "if I didn't use them the first time, they couldn't have been that good.".

So, we'll just take a doggie break. Your eyes can't handle that much cuteness anyways.

But I can tell you a travel story.

I was up just a little northwest of Detroit this week. But you knew that.

On the way home, the weather took a turn for the worst. Lots of snow, but blowing, not sticking. White out situations on the freeway, which just sucked. And it was frigid. Enough to ice over the front of my car so those sensors that tell me if I'm too close to anyone wouldn't work. So there's a design flaw!

After witnessing a multi-multi-car accident in my rearview mirror (which I still attest that I did not cause!) I was a little shaken and quite tense driving in those conditions. As it turns out the town I spent five of my formidable years, Sylvania, OH, was coming up in 15 miles. I opted to get off there for a look-see. I also had to poop.

The main drag, Monroe St., looked quite the same. Maybe a little dumpier.

The cemetery that I thought was both cool and freaky at the same time was still in place and it didn't look nearly as foreboding as when I was 3-4 years old. Go figure.

There was the new updated fire station - exactly where the old one was - that would freak me out as a child. For some reason I was terrified of sirens. I would run downstairs howling and my parents could not figure out why - until they heard sirens, but long after my keen ears could pick up on their sound.

Then there was Sautters. The only other grocery in town - the other being FoodTown. We weren't FoodTown kind of people - not that I know what kind of people who shopped there. Still I was amazed that an independent grocer still existed 40+ years after we left that town.

Now mind you, Sautters was right behind the fire station. My mother used to leave me and one of my sisters in the car - alone! - while she shopped sometimes. It was the '60's - you could leave kids under 5 in a car by themselves. Of course she smoked while we were in the car too and we were allowed to stand on the front seat as they drove so.......

Now it doesn't take a genius to figure out that now and again those fire trucks would respond to emergency calls while my mother was in the store, all their noises blaring. I would be apoplectic when she showed back up. Though to be fair, if she heard them while in the store, she knew to high-tail it to the car.

As I say all these things out loud, I wonder if my parents loved me at all. Ever.

I did stop by "our" house. Well, I drove by - I didn't stop, except to take the picture. And even that was mostly to send to my parents. My mother lamented the tree they planted in front is gone. I just remember the hole they dug that my oldest sister pushed me in that I could not get out of. Bitch.

Oddly, I posted this picture on FB and a former co-worker used to babysit three doors away and shared a picture of some kid she was playing with outside with "our" house in the background. Another ex co-worker lived around the corner when she was growing up - years after we were gone. Weird.

Walt was right - it is a small world after all.

But this unassuming house was neighborhood celebrity.

Oh sure, it looks unassuming but legend had it that the Romper Room lady lived there.

Don't ask me which one. I thought there was only one until Wikipedia told me otherwise. All I know is that bitch, whomever she might be, never said my name when using the Magic Mirror. I was right there! How could she not see me????

I also thought Mr. Do Bee and Mr. Don't Bee were a little too judgmental.

It was ok for a few minute stop. I got pictures for my parents who seemed to appreciate them.

And for the record, I stopped at the country club my parents belonged to and did my bidness. I figured they paid a lot of dues at the time - what was wrong with one of their kids using their bathroom.  44 years later.


Song by:  Marti Jones & Don Dixon