Saturday, August 23, 2008

Sleepless in NashVegas

Gotta love ya some insomnia.

Auntie Roadchick isn't even exactly sure if she is tired, Patient Reader. Body-tired, maybe, but her brain won't shut off.

It's 6 am on Saturday and the 'chick stayed up until 2 am, fell asleep for a couple of hours, woke up, and that's all she wrote. Want to bet that by this afternoon, the day will be kicking the 'chick's ass?

It's comforting to know that even at 5 am, you can get up and watch either the Olympics or 'Little House on the Prairie'. The old ones, where Melissa Gilbert needed braces in a desperate, buck-toothed way.

When the 'chick was growing up, her mother was rather strict. (Still is, actually, bless her. Not that it does a bit of good.) (Should we call Roadchick's mother Roadhen? Hee!) Anyway, television was considered to be a waste of time and horrible trash.

Exceptions for television watching were made for 'Little House on the Prairie' which was felt to have some sort of redeeming value. What, the 'chick is not sure, but since she was about 6 years old when the show first aired, it did not matter. Roadchick wanted to BE Laura Ingalls. Many an afternoon was spent with a friend, playing 'Little House'. Roadchick and friend would dress up in old, discarded, faded skirts with aprons and tote old schoolbooks and a tiny bucket as a pretend lunchbucket. They would trudge miles around the backyard, finally getting to the schoolhouse - the backyard shed that housed the lawnmower. It was hard imagining around the scent of gasoline and lawn implements, but the 'chick and friend managed.

Shows that were horrible trash? 'The Dukes of Hazzard'. The 'chick had to sneak to a friend's house to watch because it was NOT allowed on the television at home. Because that Daisy Duke? Worse than a prostitute, dressing that way, flaunting her womanly charms. In front of her cousins. Shameful!

The 'chick was also not allowed to watch 'The Dick Van Dyke Show', which was on in reruns. Why? The 'chick has NO idea - it was never explained. It was just, "Turn off that horrible trash and go DO something. Now."

As the 'chick got older, other things were forbidden. Prince (or the Artist-Formerly-Known-As, or that weird symbol that has no name) was NOT allowed. In any form. No 'Purple Rain'. No cassette tapes. No posters. No magazines with pictures or articles. It was enough to make doves cry. Because the 'chick had a serious passion for the Purple One.

The Battle Royale over Prince was a long one. The 'chick owned every single Prince cassette tape ever made but kept them hidden in a little lock box. The 'chick's friends were going to the Purple Rain concert and the 'chick wanted to go so badly that she would've done anything to get there. The 'chick's mom got wind of the plan and the 'chick was grounded until the Purple One left town. Just to be safe.

Amazingly, the 'chick's mom never did quite figure out that Sheila E. was part of the same posse that Prince ran with. Sheila E., while bad trash, was not horrible trash, and was allowed. At low volume.

Roadchick's mom no longer has to be quite so in the mainstream, but does call Kid Rock "that rock person". She does not love the Kid. She came over one day and the 'chick had left a couple of Kid Rock CDs on the counter and of course, her mom picked them up and then had a serious discussion with the 'chick about letting Rockboy listen to that horrible trash.

Patient Reader? The 'chick is ashamed to admit that she sold Rockboy south and let him take the blame, especially since he wasn't there at the time.

What? The 'chick didn't want to get grounded.


heather said...

you mean to tell me that selling your kids south and letting them take the blame ~isn't~ one of the benefits of parenthood!?
damn it, i want a refund then.

i used to love little house too except that my mother would make us sit and discuss the moral of the show and how we could apply it to our own lives. i blame the southern baptists for that. :)

Liz said...

Your bout with Insomnia is a horrid struggle- even if it's just one night. I took a nap today. Chances are I'll be paying for that and be up until around 3 AM myself. Sometimes I'm so rested that even Tylenol PM won't make a dent in the need to sleep.

Roadchick said...

Heather~ what Rockboy doesn't know, won't hurt him. *g*

Liz~ Yeah, the Benadryl didn't work - until about 9am . . .and sleeping until 1pm didn't help the day AT ALL.

Susan said...

A couple of random facts for you:

When I was growing up the same rules went at my dad's parents' house (nanny and pop) though the allowed show was "Highway to Heaven". I, to this day, don't understand that one 'cause he was dealin' with some foul people.

I live approximately 10 miles from the Laura Ingalls Wilder Trail. She actually walked it--they weren't being clever.

Roadchick said...

Susan~ Laura Ingalls Wilder in WV? Who'da thunk it? I didn't know she ever made it over there. I'd love to go to her homeplace in Missouri. Now, if I can just convince Redneck it would be a good idea . . .