Authors: Maggie Griffin
First of all, there’s a difference between swearing and cursing. Swearing is for when you bang your shin on the stairs; cursing is for when you really need to tell someone what’s what or give them a talking to, or hope they go to the bad place down below.
GODDAMN
—Forbidden. Only to be used in extreme circumstances, or when it slips out by accident.
DAMNATION
—A fancier way of saying “Damn,” almost like it’s a country’s worth of “Damn.”
AWW CHRIST
—Also forbidden. I never say this. Except . . . sometimes.
SONOFABITCH
—If you prick your finger while sewing.
SHITE
—That thing some people don’t know from shinola.
BASTARD
—Not something you wanted to be called in my day, but now it’s perfectly acceptable, as in “I’m in a bastard of a job.”
SLOB
—Terrible person. Messy, poorly groomed. Similar to a bum but I guess we’re not supposed to say “bum” anymore.
PUSSY
—You’d better be talking about a kitty cat.
DREGS
—The lowest form of humanity.
LITTLE PUNK
—A dirty thief. See the letter I wrote to whoever stole our sword (page 164).
FOR CHRISSAKES
—I never say this, either. That I remember. If you feel you must say this one, say “For cryin’ out loud” instead.
ASSHOLE
—Only for holidays.
CRABAPPLE
—A real sourpuss. Today they say “bummer” or “downer.”
FRIGG IT
—A nice way of saying one of Kathleen’s favorites!
MAKING A BED
. Nothing is a bigger pain in the fanny than making a bed, especially the bigger ones, because you gotta walk around the thing, making sure everything is straight and neat. You could go round and round up to five times on one of those big beds.
ANYTHING I HAVE TO DO ON MY HANDS AND KNEES.
Especially at this age, an activity like scrubbing the floor or even getting down there to look under the bed for a pair of pantyhose is out of the question and not only a big pain in the fanny, but a pain in the back, too. Of course, scrubbing the floor is easier these days. Swiffer took care of that.
NOT HAVING TISSUES WHEN YOU NEED ONE.
I know I say it often but getting stuck without a tissue when you need one for an emergency is a big pain in the fanny.
THE COMPUTER.
That little whirring ball that’s supposed to let you know your e-mail is sending is a real pain in my fanny when it keeps going and going and never stops.
IRONING
is a pain in the fanny, especially if you’re in a rush. I like to take my time ironing, because if you rush things it comes out a mess. If you’re ironing in a hurry you might just as well not bother.
BUYING A GIRDLE.
Finding one that’s comfortable is a big pain in the fanny.
WASHING BLINDS
is a pain in the fanny because I always cut my fingers on the damn things.
STORE CLERKS WHO DON’T KNOW ANYTHING.
I was trying to find candles, and I asked a young man where they were. “We don’t have any,” he said. I walk over two aisles, and there they are! What a pain in my fanny.
SPILLS.
When the kids were younger it seemed that as soon as I had all the food on the table, one of them would spill the milk or juice all over it. Everything gets ruined, the bread gets soaked, and it’s a pain in the fanny to clean up. One glass of spilled pop seems like a gallon when you’re mopping.
MY DAUGHTER.
I love her, but she can be a real pain in the fanny. I’ll speak to you further.
L
ike most people my age, I think the world hasn’t changed for the better. [
God, Mom, I hope this isn’t a thinly veiled reference to slavery. I want to go on record as saying all Griffins are against slavery. Except sex dungeons with Levi Johnston
.]
It’s probably not really true, but you have to admit, a certain way of life has gone. Whether it’s a decline in behavior, or gadgets that make you lazy [
or crazy
], or ridiculously high prices, I sometimes wonder how anybody can stand it!
Take the Music, Please
Take music. That changed real fast. [
Oh boy
.] By the time I got to like the Beatles, for instance, they weren’t considered wild anymore. You look back now and think, Why were they shocking? Of course, when rock and roll first started hitting big, I was already a mom trying to raise children, so at first I didn’t like it. [
It has been well documented in several studies from junior colleges in Illinois that rock and roll can impede good parenting
.] You weren’t going to catch me listening to it while I was vacuuming or cooking dinner. [
As if
.] Rock and rollers dressed goofy, they let their hair grow, and they looked like slobs half the time. I didn’t care for it, especially those dance moves, and some of the lyrics. Kinda suggestive! [
Mom, how do you think babies are made?
]
But you learn to weed out the bad stuff, and now even I like a lot of it. Like those Beatles. We grew to love them. [
Well, during the “growing pains” phase of that love, I distinctly remember my mother had a “No
White Album
” rule when my aunt Irene came over, because of a little song called “Why Don’t We Do It in the
Road.” It ain’t all “Hey Jude,” Ma
.] Although somebody had to explain to me years later that “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” was about drugs. I wouldn’t have known that in a million years. [
Did you think it meant “Lucille Ball in the Sky with Diamonds”???
]
As for other big names, I never did like Elvis Presley. He was probably a decent guy underneath, but he just seemed like a hillbilly to me. [
Did she just write “hillbilly”? Now I’m going to have to do damage control with the Hillbilly-American community
.] Never bought his albums. Wasn’t nuts about his movies. We would just laugh at stuff like “Hound Dog.” [
Just pictured my mom and dad sitting together in the foyer holding a 45 of “Hound Dog” and doubled over with laughter
.] But his life turned out sad and pathetic. And that Mick Jagger of the Rolling Stones? Never a favorite. He was too wild, and looked dirty half the time. [
Ouch. I’m glad she’s not on the board of the
Rock and
Roll Hall of Fame
.] And, oh God, not heavy metal. I don’t get that at all. I can’t even tell what they’re doing with the instruments. [
She couldn’t name three heavy metal acts if you put a gun to her head
.] And I never liked rap. There’s no singing. I don’t like the dirty ones, especially. Everyone’s a “bitch” and a “ho”? Whatever they’re saying, I know it isn’t nice. [
Sorry, Luda
.]
Look, I’m not saying we didn’t have our funny, silly songs in the big band era, which is when I was growing up. But nearly all our music was romantic. [
Nearly all is right, Mom. I don’t think songs from that era like “Shave ’Em Dry,” “It Ain’t the Meat (It’s the Motion)” or “Banana in Your Fruit Basket” qualified as “romantic.”
] Songs were about the girl, finding her, not wanting to lose her, or if you lost her, getting her back! The music from my time was about longing for love, longing to keep someone. I loved it! [
Don’t forget the longing for “fuckin’,” as blues pioneer Lucille Bogan repeatedly sings in her 1935 recording “Shave ’Em Dry,” which is dirtier than most gangsta rap. But I’m guessing Mom didn’t make it to any juke joints back then.
] That’s what Judy Garland, Bing Crosby, Lena Horne, Rosie Clooney, and Frank Sinatra sang about: love and romance. Now, I’ll admit I never did like Sinatra’s personal life. But his talent, and the kinds of songs he performed? Wonderful!
Plus, back then we wanted to hear a nice voice, something pleasing to the ear. You know what I hate about music now? You can’t hear the vocalist! The vocals get washed out by the darned drums [
I looked it up, and she’s right on this one, drums were not invented until Elvis Presley was born
] or the wild guitars or all the computer noises. Hey, when I listen to music, I want to hear somebody sing! And the other thing is, I can never understand the words, either. Ever. But the kids all sure know them. From listening to it constantly on their iPods. Maybe I don’t want to know the words to some of these songs.
By the way, I don’t have an iPod. And I don’t want one. [
NEWSFLASH: Apple stock plummets!
]
But getting back to what people in my day liked about music, what’s changed is that the romance is gone. These days all the songs seem to be against the girl. It’s crazy! I wish softer, prettier songs would come back. [
Maybe a song titled “I’m Not Against a Soft and Pretty Girl”? By Beyoncé
?] Then maybe young kids would realize it’s kinda nice to be in love. [
Just ask young person
Rihanna
.] In a
nice
way. Girls could feel that a guy is gonna protect you, and love you, and think you’re the best person who ever lived. [
That’s how stalkers think, Mom
.]
God, Yes, I Love Uniforms
Now, if you want to see me go into a tantrum, talk to me about children’s clothes today. They’re so sexy, for God’s sake! These are kids we’re talking about! [
Mom, cut it out. I’m thirty-two years old. Geez
.] Everything on them now is so tight, and usually real short, and tries to emphasize what little bosom half of ’em have (or don’t have). [
I’m confused. So now you’re pro implants for preteens
?] I wish you could see me rolling my eyes now. I swear, these kids don’t get a chance to be teenagers anymore. They’re boosted into the adult stage of life way before they’re ready. [
Admit it, that’s gotta hurt, Miley
.]
In my era, kids stayed kids until the first or second year of high school. Girls were still dumb and innocent and would giggle around the boys. [
Thanks, Gloria Steinem
.] Now the girls all act provocatively—thanks to these teen movies that drive me out of my mind [
the last teen movie Mom saw having been
Tammy and the Bachelor]—and the boys, well, I just want to slap them all in the face. [
Calling my attorneys now
.] They don’t need the temptation. Boys are bad enough as they are, for Chrissakes. The ones who wear their pants halfway down their legs are so stupid-looking, too, I don’t even know how they can think it’s attractive. It’s dumb. Dumb, I tell ya. [
I have to admit, I get warm and fuzzy feelings inside every time I think of my mom and dad sitting me down, screaming at me, “ALL MEN ARE PIGS!”
] And letting the kids wear caps in schools, that’s just so goofy. There’s no teaching kids these days how you should dress properly. I don’t think it’s asking a lot to teach them that.
You might be able to tell from the above that I’m all in favor of uniforms. God, yes, I love uniforms. [
Mom, you have no idea how many men reading this book also love a man in uniform.
] They’re what my kids wore when they went to Catholic grammar school and high school, and it made all the sense in the world. It relieves the kid of figuring out what to wear, and it cuts everybody down to the same size. We may have all cried about them when we had to wear them, but when there’d be those few weeks when you’d go to school without uniforms—and no, I don’t mean without any clothes; you’d go in your own clothes while new uniforms were ordered—you were always glad when you had to go back to the uniform, because most of us didn’t have anymore clothes to wear! There’d always be those few girls who had tons of clothes, but as I said, uniforms really equalize everyone. They take the focus off fashion, and put it back where it should be, on being clean and decent and hard-working. [
Here’s the deal: As a mom of five kids, clearly she liked us wearing uniforms because it was easier for her. And Maggie being the youngest of sixteen children, clearly her mother loved uniforms because it was easier. Got it?
]
Besides, kids nowadays are so obsessed with brands! Everything has to be a brand name. It
kills
me to buy a brand name. The reason young people want them is because of all the advertising they see, everywhere they go. In my day you didn’t have brand names. The papers would have advertisements that just showed you the dresses, or the jackets, and you didn’t see designer names. You knew the name Levi’s, I guess, for dungarees, and OshKosh B’Gosh, for overalls. But you wore those for manual labor. Guys never wore jeans for just hangin’ around, like they do today. I blame television.
Home Entertainment Tonight
Speaking of television, when Johnny and I started raising our family in the 1940s, television was new, and a pretty exciting thing to get, I have to say. When I was a child, home entertainment was a wireless radio you listened to, or the wind-up Victrola for playing records. And getting the Victrola that plugged in was a big deal. But when television arrived, that was great. We all watched it together as a family. Those early sets were terrible, though. Half the time your picture was snow. [
If it was the news reporting a blizzard, you’d never know it
.] If you got a picture, you’d watch anything, you were so thrilled. I remember friends of ours who were fascinated by just the signal screen, that card that just indicated you were getting a signal. They’d watch only that if they could. [
Another glass of wine, anyone?
]
When the remote control came along, though, I have to say, I didn’t want that. It seemed awful to me not to just get up and go over to the set and change the channel myself! [
My mother’s early version of a personal trainer
.] I didn’t get remote controls at first. I thought, “Now, that’s just pampering.” But I’m ashamed to admit, I love them now. Although these new remotes are more than a little confusing. There are so many buttons! What happened to just “On,” “Off,” “Volume,” and little arrows for going up and down the channels? I can’t figure these new ones out half the time. The other night I was trying to get to the Home and Garden network but somehow got stuck on Telemundo. [
Busted. I went over there and put it on Al Jazeera and left. I gotta have a little fun with the old gal
.] I gave up and just left it on there for the night. It begs the question, Why can’t I just have the channels I want? It’d be like going to a restaurant where they just bring out everything on the menu, and you’ve got to find your dish. Half the channels they give you aren’t even worth watching. Honestly. I watch Bravo, naturally, always wanting to see Kathy. And of course, Bill O’Reilly and
Judge Judy
. I like PBS. But so many network shows are nonsensical. The comedy is all toilet humor, suggestive and degrading. [
Not unlike
The O’Reilly Factor.]
And what’s happened to the news? It’s all Hollywood stuff now. [
That’s why it’s called
Entertainment Tonight.
Because the news is so fresh, it’s from TONIGHT
.] It’s all a tabloid. They pay attention to stuff that isn’t even important! When I hear a newsman on a news show say, “The whole world is waiting to see if Brad and Angie are splitting!” Excuse me, but the whole world? With earthquakes happening? And wars going on? With the economy in the state it’s in? My God, I don’t think guys without jobs are waiting to see whether two movie stars are calling it quits. It’s just awful and sad.
Not about Brad and Angie.
About the news.
Now that I think about it, my initial resistance to using the remote was also what happened with the clothes dryer. I never wanted one. I had a washing machine, and thank God, I was happy with only that, ’cause we had a good, warm basement, and a nice backyard. So hanging clothes was fine with me. [
I’m filing a lawsuit against my mother for fraud right this minute. I cannot recall one instance when my mother described the joy of doing laundry. I seem to recall “Johnny, help me fold this gah-dammn laundry! Holy SHITE, why did we have five gah-dammn kids? I’m EXHAUSTED.” Or something to that effect
.] They’d dry overnight, summer or winter. [
You mean in Forest Park, Illinois, where the winters meant a wind chill effect of
−
17 degrees?
] But when I got a dryer finally, there went that pleasant time outdoors in the sun, putting clothes on the line. Sometimes I’d get the urge and put clothes out anyway. But it was a new era: I’d gotten spoiled. Let the dryer do the work. All I have to do is fold ’em. That’s what we’ve come to. [
Come to think of it, she and my dad were always big on hanging rags. To this day, you can go to my mom’s apartment, and no railing is safe
.]
Believe me, when I get these new contraptions like a remote or a dryer, I’m usually very happy eventually. But I’ll fight them at first. For as long as I can.
All the New Technology, LOL
You can probably guess how I felt about getting a computer. [
Like bamboo shoots under your fingernails, maybe? Or worse???
] One Christmas about ten years ago, Kathy surprised us. While we were out, she had one installed in our home. We knew she was expecting a call from us when we got home and saw this fancy new gadget, so we phoned her with excitement in our voices: “Oh my God, we got a computer!”
And we
were
excited.
But leery, too. Real leery. [
Like a first date with a serial killer
.]
Because, see, it represented something we didn’t need. [
Like information
.] Why did I need a computer? “Oh, you’ll love e-mailing,” my kids would say. Well, I like to write cards. Cards somebody can in hold her hand, that say something nice you wrote with
your
own hand. And I like to talk to people personally on the phone. You want to hear people’s voices sometimes, you know?