My Papa had a bad heart and my Grandpa had the double whammy of a stroke followed by a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis. For the purpose of this piece, I will tell you about Papa.
I never knew my Papa as a healthy and robust man, although I know he was at one time because I combed through photo albums and boxes of black and white pictures relentlessly as a kid, fingering the wavy edges of images of him with muscles and broad shoulders and a smile so big it made him squint. By the time I was born he had become the grandfather with ankles that would swell unmercifully because his heart didn't pump properly. I knew the sight and smell of an ever-present green and white Sinex nasal spray in his shirt pocket, useful for when he couldn't breathe (which was a lot). I knew his coughing fits, completely wracking his body, at which times I would stand near him and look on, scared that he wasn't going to be able to stop. My Nana, seeing the concerned look on my little face would say to Papa, "Oh, stop it, just stop that." as she averted her eyes from mine alternately rubbing and thumping on his back. She did her best to make me think it was only drama when it was actually dreadful bodily trauma.
Papa was either relegated to home or, on warm weather weekends, to camp. This was the 1970s and medical advances with regard to his condition were not happening, at least not in Schenectady, New York. There were no medicines, no accoutrements, no gadgets to assist those who had only a quarter of their heart in working order. What Papa had were ten dense feather pillows to sleep on at night, propped up at a perfectly geometric right angle so that he didn't drown in the fluid in and around his ticker. What he had were moccasins so that when he swelled up he could easily slip his feet in and out without messing with pesky laces or ties. What he had was a seasoning called "No Salt" so that he could have flavor without consequence. What he had was a ration of shit that he lived with through sheer will and determination. I was told more than once, during the tender decade that I knew and loved him, that he hung in far longer than anyone, medically or otherwise, anticipated.
One positive thing Papa had was television. It was a large contributor to his joy, and eventually my Grandpa's too. When you are required to sit and shelter in place for the rest of your life based on your health and what it allows or prevents you from doing, entertainment becomes tantamount to the quality of your day.
As a small child, I understood very quickly that I wasn't to make any programming requests around my Papa. The tv was his and his alone. These were the days of one television households; when children were absolutely required to stay within the same room as their parents and gracious hosts when visiting a relative or friend. There was no handheld device, video game or finished basement area in which to escape and play. What my Nana and Papa had was a very small living room with a three seat sofa and my Papa's chair. My parents and Nana sat on the couch. I sat on the floor. The house faced a parking lot with train tracks and a regularly scheduled locomotive running behind it. There was a hefty and wide concrete stoop where I was permitted to crouch, but I was not allowed to leave it and explore the blocks of the Schenectady Stockade because of the jakey bums. Every city dweller knew that jakey bums were undesirable men who traipsed down the streets heading toward the local bars with their paper bag covered pints and odorous clothes smelling mostly of sweat and urine. Jakey bums scared little girls, that much I understood.
So, shelter in place we did. My Papa liked game shows during the day and I became pretty adept at Match Game. Gene Rayburn was like a member of the family, I saw him so often as a preschooler. A master of the double entendre, I can recall paying close attention when Papa snickered aloud to questions like "Did you see Dumb Dora? She was sitting at the table putting peanut butter on her BLANK!". Betty White, Charles Nelson Reilly and Richard Dawson were my Papa's favorite guests. They often held up answers, written on large white cards, that got censored; presumably because they made reference to things prohibited on daytime tv in those days, or...genitalia. What the heck was Dora putting peanut butter on? Well, this kid learned pretty quickly what the audience found a lot more amusing than 'bread' and Papa and I would chortle loudly each time one of those placards got buzzed for impropriety.
Papa also enjoyed soap operas. Another World was one that my mother and he would watch together. Rachel and Mac were their favorite characters on the show, and I'd stretch out on my belly in my grandparent's living room on warm summer afternoons, Crayola-ing in my Cinderella coloring book while my mother and Papa discussed whose life Rachel, a most lovable villain, would ruin next.
In the evening, Ironside was the show which my Papa reveled in most. I don't know if it was the entrancing writing or Raymond Burr, or the fact that Chief Ironside, despite being in a wheelchair and unable to walk, solved the cases for the San Francisco PD that Papa loved the best, but when that horribly pitchy, synthesized theme song began screeching from the television set, I knew to pack up my things. It was time for us to leave and make the hour long drive home because there was no talking to Papa once that show started rolling.
Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom was the one bone Papa would throw my way. Marlin Perkins and his crew showed us nature and wild animals we would never otherwise see. I don't recollect ever watching that show at home but at Papa and Nana's it was our Sunday night tradition. As a kid, I didn't know what Mutual of Omaha was but I felt a sense of comfort knowing it apparently was available when we needed it.
If you're reading this, I'm sure you remember that there were no VCRs, DVD players, cable television, or streaming on demand back then. You watched what you watched when it was on, and that was it. There were three main channels, 6, 10, and 13 and one public broadcasting channel, number 4, which was mostly known, at least in our home, for children's television programming and yoga with Lilias.
Sheltering in place right now for us includes lots of ESPN for hubs, and even though they are replaying professional sporting events from years ago, he finds solace in the everyday banter and discussions surrounding what will happen to the Masters golf tournament, our country's major league baseball season, and the Olympics. Sheltering also includes the news, a new season of Ozark on Netflix and an old movie or two each week, streaming. We are lucky to have so many choices at our fingertips. Papa would have been a pro at what we are currently being asked to do and he would have been most thankful to have the opportunity to return to a more everyday existence when all of this is over...an existence where you can go where you want to go and do what you want to do.
With him in mind, I will not complain. I will be grateful.
#1970s #1980s #anotherworld #ironside #matchgame #mutualofomahawildkingdom #schenectadystockade #mushroomtumbler
