The Little Rascals

This will be the only time I'll use real first names, because everyone I write about in this post are so much a part of me, to change their names would be an insult. They're all my extended family and I know that if I ever needed any of them, there wouldn't be a question that they would do whatever they could, and vise-versa.

Bobby and Gail and my parents were the same age, got married about the same time, even had their babies within months of each other. They've know each other longer than I've been alive and I've always thought of them as my other parents. But it was their kids that made us "family".

Sean, the oldest, and I were born within months of each other. We were supposed to be the "responsible" ones--yeah, right. Patrick and my brother, Todd, followed. My brother was always doing something ridiculously funny and Patrick was--still is--his best audience. One time, my brother decided to stand on a busy corner in Stamford, CT and pretend he was blind. He stood there singing "Hand Bone " holding his wool hat in front of him. The rest of us were a few feet away, pretending we didn't know him. When a well intended passerby dropped a quarter in his hat, we all lost it, but its Pat's laugh that I remember the most, a side-splitting laugh that's never changed, especially when my brother's concerned.

We worshiped "The Little Rascals" and watched it religiously until we had the most of the episodes memorized. One of our favorites "The Weet-Waaaah" cake baked with an assortment of prizes, including a hair brush. The lucky recipient of the brush tried to use his new prize and admitted to no one in particular, "Ouch. It hurts, my brush." That was Pat's favorite.

  Sean and I laughed at all of them, especially Spanky. For my birthday last year, he sent me an entire collection of our favorite scenes, including a few that I had forgotten about. It was the best birthday present I've received.

We adored Bill Cosby. We used to listen to "Chicken Heart That Ate New York City" and stories about Bill's brother, Russell and he sharing a room together when they were young, This was way before the days of cable, video tape or even broadcasting anything like this, so we all gathered around a record player, giggling like idiots, until the records eventually wore out.

Maureen was the youngest of all of us--the baby. We all wanted to play with her, teach her The Ways of Our Force, but she sized all of us up pretty quick, saw that we all acted like retards and chose a more dry sense of humor, but her quips were always well-timed, when you least expected them. Although, she did have her moments. She and I used to make up stupid poems and Todd was as crazy around her as he was with Pat, so some of our dementia did affect her in its own way.

Its astonishing to realize that we're all grown up now. Sean, Pat and Maureen each have been married to exceptional wives/husband and have children heading to college--kids I've never met. But I know my friends have passed down our legacy of ridiculousness. And I pray that some day, when we're all old and depending on Depends, we will laugh like we did when we were kids, while their own grown children will shake their heads and whisper. "Alzheimer's".