Mom, Dad, and Vito makes three (somewhere around 1949)
To this day, I still find myself, occasionally thinking about growing up during the 40's and 50's comparing to what I am seeing today. My mom was a stay at home mom as were most mom's. She spent her day's doing mom things, cooking, cleaning, sewing, talking on the phone and dressing her little guy (me) in white short pants, clean shirt each day and newly polished shoes. To take it another step back, I believe my underwear was pressed after each washing along with my socks. She even pressed my dad's underwear. "You never know what will happen" she would say. "You could get in an accident and I don't want people seeing you with dirty or unpressed underwear." Even the sheets were pressed before being put on the bed.....WHY??? They just got wrinkled as soon as you touched them. The funniest thing though was that everything in our house was covered in plastic from lampshades to furniture. One would find yourself slipping off the living room furniture in the winter because it was so cold and sticking to it in the summer because of the heat. Apparently the plastic was so good for inside the house that we even had it in the car. It brought out the color of the upholstery better.......HUH??........ If I recall......... even at the age of 29 and the night before my wedding, my mom pressed my underwear.
Growing up in the Rizzo household was fantastic. Just the three of us and happiness. I did get my share of punishment, never in the sense of spankings or such, but sent to my room without supper, until at least time that dinner was on the table........or ..........better yet. "Wait until you father comes home"......boy, how many times did I hear that one. I was thoroughly kept off balance with their interpretation of good cop, bad cop. Neither one wanted to be the bad cop, so I could never tell who it was going to be, even when it was happening. Anyway, we always sat down at dinner time together even when I was in high school. Five o'clock was dinner. If I was not home at that time you better eat out, because there was nothing left for me. Also I had better have a damn good excuse, per dad's instruction. If your at school for some reason, I want a note from them. His idea being, that if he or mom had to write a note giving the school a reason for me being late, or absent then he wanted the same from them for me missing dinner. The only time I remember my parents going to anything at school, was either they were asked by a teacher to review my progress or lack of,..........which, surprisingly was only once, or at the end of year parents night...... when all of your exceptional work was put on the bulletin board and shown to all parents. They would meet your teacher at that time and of course they would always be told how lucky she/he was to have such a gifted child such as (place your name here) in her/his class............YAH, RIGHT!!!! .......then explain why you did nothing but complain all year long that having me in your class gave you (the teacher) an automatic pass to heaven, since this time, with me,was like being in ................HELL!!.....
I still remember some of the stories my dad would tell me about when he went to school. They had something called a spanking machine.....and a truant officer. If you were caught missing school without a written excuse from your parents that someone from the Principals office called a truant officer would call and check your whereabouts with whoever answered the phone. If it was felt that there was a surprise tone in that persons voice, they would send out a APB (all points bulletin) to search you down. When they found you, they would bring you to the truant officer office ,tie you face down on this spanking machine, start up the motor, and this long wooden blade would locate you butt for 5 spanks.......1st offense. Don't get caught a second time. This story was reputed in my freshman year when a group of us guys searched out this machine and found ........NUTHIN!!!!!.........
Both my parents were extravert's, they could both talk about many things and would even believe what they were saying themselves..........at the time they were saying it........ Gift of gab, yes it was. My dad was a real funny guy. Everything that would ever go wrong was blamed on one particular group.........the COMMUNISTS.......rain today, ITS THE DAMN COMMUNISTS........snow today ITS THE DAMN COMMUNISTS........loose bowel movements......ITS THE DAMN COMMUNISTS............splinter in your finger............need a haircut.........to much butter on your sandwich..........ITS THE DAMN COMMUNISTS. It wasn't until many, many years later that I think I have found evidence of where this came from. I found amongst his fondest belongings that he was a card carrying republican block captain. Now, I know where all my republican blaming name calling comes from................the 50's.
Another thing I remember about my dad from the 50's. Every night and I mean every night after dinner he would take about 15 minutes to finish his glass of beer from dinner...........and then.............TV TIME!!!!!. My dad had his chair center stage just the right distance from our set.......lights totally out.....for better viewing, TV program from the Sunday paper tucked into the chair clicker at his side..........(mom)....... she was the official channel changer and antenna rabbit ears adjuster. Later, in life, when he got my uncle to go up on the roof to put up an antenna on the chimney, my mom was relieved of that duty. I think it was then she started to forget things . He had the nights programs pre-selected from his newspaper, would discuss the week's programming plan with mom and had notes next to each program. Number one on his nightly shows was professional wrestling. He swore this was real and would sit in his chair and really crack up over the like of Gorgeous George, Antonnino Rocco, the barefooted Italian, and the Masked Marvel and if his guy was loosing I could visualize dad getting up out of his chair, reaching into the TV and literally pull the other wrestler off him but some of his favorites were the woman wrestlers and the midget wrestlers. Next, were old cowboy films......Hopalong Cassidy, Gene Autry and Roy Rogers..........dad........whatever made you happy.............because at 9:00 he was usually asleep in his chair or on his way up to bed. Five AM comes early.
Growing up in the Rizzo household was fantastic. Just the three of us and happiness. I did get my share of punishment, never in the sense of spankings or such, but sent to my room without supper, until at least time that dinner was on the table........or ..........better yet. "Wait until you father comes home"......boy, how many times did I hear that one. I was thoroughly kept off balance with their interpretation of good cop, bad cop. Neither one wanted to be the bad cop, so I could never tell who it was going to be, even when it was happening. Anyway, we always sat down at dinner time together even when I was in high school. Five o'clock was dinner. If I was not home at that time you better eat out, because there was nothing left for me. Also I had better have a damn good excuse, per dad's instruction. If your at school for some reason, I want a note from them. His idea being, that if he or mom had to write a note giving the school a reason for me being late, or absent then he wanted the same from them for me missing dinner. The only time I remember my parents going to anything at school, was either they were asked by a teacher to review my progress or lack of,..........which, surprisingly was only once, or at the end of year parents night...... when all of your exceptional work was put on the bulletin board and shown to all parents. They would meet your teacher at that time and of course they would always be told how lucky she/he was to have such a gifted child such as (place your name here) in her/his class............YAH, RIGHT!!!! .......then explain why you did nothing but complain all year long that having me in your class gave you (the teacher) an automatic pass to heaven, since this time, with me,was like being in ................HELL!!.....
I still remember some of the stories my dad would tell me about when he went to school. They had something called a spanking machine.....and a truant officer. If you were caught missing school without a written excuse from your parents that someone from the Principals office called a truant officer would call and check your whereabouts with whoever answered the phone. If it was felt that there was a surprise tone in that persons voice, they would send out a APB (all points bulletin) to search you down. When they found you, they would bring you to the truant officer office ,tie you face down on this spanking machine, start up the motor, and this long wooden blade would locate you butt for 5 spanks.......1st offense. Don't get caught a second time. This story was reputed in my freshman year when a group of us guys searched out this machine and found ........NUTHIN!!!!!.........
Both my parents were extravert's, they could both talk about many things and would even believe what they were saying themselves..........at the time they were saying it........ Gift of gab, yes it was. My dad was a real funny guy. Everything that would ever go wrong was blamed on one particular group.........the COMMUNISTS.......rain today, ITS THE DAMN COMMUNISTS........snow today ITS THE DAMN COMMUNISTS........loose bowel movements......ITS THE DAMN COMMUNISTS............splinter in your finger............need a haircut.........to much butter on your sandwich..........ITS THE DAMN COMMUNISTS. It wasn't until many, many years later that I think I have found evidence of where this came from. I found amongst his fondest belongings that he was a card carrying republican block captain. Now, I know where all my republican blaming name calling comes from................the 50's.
Another thing I remember about my dad from the 50's. Every night and I mean every night after dinner he would take about 15 minutes to finish his glass of beer from dinner...........and then.............TV TIME!!!!!. My dad had his chair center stage just the right distance from our set.......lights totally out.....for better viewing, TV program from the Sunday paper tucked into the chair clicker at his side..........(mom)....... she was the official channel changer and antenna rabbit ears adjuster. Later, in life, when he got my uncle to go up on the roof to put up an antenna on the chimney, my mom was relieved of that duty. I think it was then she started to forget things . He had the nights programs pre-selected from his newspaper, would discuss the week's programming plan with mom and had notes next to each program. Number one on his nightly shows was professional wrestling. He swore this was real and would sit in his chair and really crack up over the like of Gorgeous George, Antonnino Rocco, the barefooted Italian, and the Masked Marvel and if his guy was loosing I could visualize dad getting up out of his chair, reaching into the TV and literally pull the other wrestler off him but some of his favorites were the woman wrestlers and the midget wrestlers. Next, were old cowboy films......Hopalong Cassidy, Gene Autry and Roy Rogers..........dad........whatever made you happy.............because at 9:00 he was usually asleep in his chair or on his way up to bed. Five AM comes early.
