If each of us were to go back and look at our lives, we could all likely pinpoint a few moments in which our perspectives were greatly altered. Perhaps not a grand epiphany but a milestone moment that helped shape you into a different, and hopefully better and more insightful, person.
Looking back, I’ve had my share. One of the more memorable was in a two-door K-car similar to this Plymouth Reliant.
It was summertime in either 1986 or 1987, meaning I was either 13 or 14 years old. For reasons now lost in time, my younger sister and I were spending several days with my maternal grandparents, “Iris” and “Albert” who were around 60 and 63 years old, respectively.
We had made a trek to a grocery store in Cape Girardeau; most likely, some necessary item was greatly on sale. Generally, we would not leave until after Nikki had been on (a female character in the long-running soap opera The Young & The Restless) and we had to return by the time the weather aired on the local CBS affiliate at 5 pm. This gave a five-hour window to do all necessary chores.
Heading back to their house at around 3:30, Grandpa Albert was getting drowsy. Since Grandma Iris always drove when in any of their cars, Grandpa indulged his sleepiness and took a nap while going down the road. Sitting directly behind him, my mischievous streak was rearing its ugly head, a streak being egged on by my younger sister.
As we were in such close confines, accomplishing this task was rather easy. While trodding down the curvy road back toward their house, I slowly started to pull the extra length of Grandpa’s seatbelt out of its reel. The more I pulled, the more my sister encouraged me. Soon, I had the entire length pulled out, with the seatbelt on Grandpa’s torso unmoved and without slack. As I pondered when I wanted to do this, I just decided to go for it.
Releasing the seatbelt, the automatic tensioner quickly and loudly pulled the slack back onto the reel. While it wasn’t dramatic, it seems the seatbelt gave Grandpa just enough of a jolt to startle him. Badly. And he doesn’t startle easily – I’ve tried.
“Son of a bitch! What the hell was that?”
Without even looking toward him, and knowing full well what had transpired, Grandma Iris tore into me like a hungry lion into a freshly caught gazelle. Bear in mind she remained quite calm, never even raising her voice.
“Jason, you need to cut that shit out. Your grandpa is old and his heart is frail. Boy, you do that business and he’s going to think he’s back in some London nightclub during the war with the Germans bombing the place. It’s not good for him and how are you going to feel if his old feeble heart craps out right here? I doubt you’d very happy with yourself.
“Jason, I’ll tell you what your problem is. You are irresponsible. Doing something like that is not only disrespectful and mean-spirited, it’s as irresponsible as can be. You are at an age where you need to learn some responsibility, because when I was your age I had a job and was helping support my family. And what do you do? You just want to scare the hell out of comatose old men. That’s not being very responsible.
“Jason, I’ll tell you something else. Not acting responsibly can get you in a mess of trouble and really ruin your life. You remember my telling you I was a record keeper at that mental hospital near Chicago during the war? Well, I had to read the records of every person there and very few of them truly had mental problems. Most of them were either really bad alcoholics or had very advanced stages of venereal diseases, especially the women who had been prostitutes – there was nothing that could be done for them at that time, but they were all there due to having been irresponsible at some point in their life.
“Do you want that to happen to you?
We pulled into their driveway around this point. She shut off the car engine, kept the windows up, and kept talking.
“Jason, your behavior has been bothering me for quite a while – didn’t you recently throw a sopping wet wash rag into your sister’s room, hitting her square in the face as she lay asleep in bed? You don’t seem to know the first thing about being a responsible young person. You have your moments, but they are few and far between. I think with a little forethought and paying attention you could improve quite a bit. It’s whether or not you are responsible enough to remember to act responsibly. That might be a struggle for you.
“I’m just going to call it the ‘R-word’. There’s no point in your mom and dad knowing about this talk, but from now on, I’m going to ask you every once in a while how you are doing with the R-word. Don’t think I’m going to forget. I’ve raised three kids and have to live with your grandfather, so I know all about people who claim to forget everything except how to eat and breathe.
“The R-word is sadly lacking in your life. And the same goes for your sister. But, Jason, I think you can do it. Just start by not being so mean to your poor, old grandpa and quit doing all that stupid shit you’ve been doing.
“That’s all I have to say for now.”
Upon her saying this, Grandpa looked at her and said “Ma, you done? I’m hot.”
I’ve pondered upon this grilling many times since then, so I suppose Grandma Iris succeeded in her quest. While I have no doubt she bestowed me with some other nuggets of wisdom that I no longer remember, I can confidently say the biggies have stuck to me like ticks on a dog’s ear.
Also sticking to me in a similar fashion is my mixture of amusement and shame that prompts a smirk on those painfully rare occasions I see any two-door K-car. For the record, Grandma and Grandpa had a 1985 Dodge Aries at the time, similar to this one, but I’ve been more successful in finding Tatra’s curbside than I have in finding any similar Aries or Reliant for the purposes of this article. Sometimes you just make do with what you have, which is why you have seen this two-door Plymouth Reliant. Incidentally, making use of what you have is another tidbit I was advised about that day.
Finding an Aries LE like the one my grandparents had might be a formidable task; only 3,706 Aries LE two-doors were produced for 1985, making it the rarest Dodge of any variety made that year.
The Aries my grandparents purchased from Harper-Lankheit Chrysler-Plymouth-Dodge in Sikeston, Missouri, replaced a thoroughly underwhelming 1977 Impala. This Aries, like Grandma Iris said about me, also had its moments. It seems the car had a water leak into the trunk. Taking it back to the dealer, the service department claimed they could find nothing wrong.
Grandma Iris didn’t take well to this. She used the same polite, velvet covered verbal fist on the service manager she would later use on me. She informed him Lee Iacocca had just sent her a letter asking about how she liked their new Aries and she didn’t want to have to tell him how abysmal the service department was and how utterly lacking that little guy of a service manager was in manning up to do his job – in other words, he wasn’t being very responsible. The dealer suddenly found where the water was infiltrating.
Of course, Grandma Iris still stands at 5’10” at age 89 and has yet to go gray, so she does have a distinct presence about her. She also knows how to make a long lasting impression better than nearly anyone else I’ve ever known.
Taken November 2014 in Jefferson City, Missouri
Still 5’10” at age 89 and yet to go gray, you are blessed to have Iris in your life. And the best part is, that you know it.
Many younger people make fun of, and avoid whenever possible, the older people in their lives. And they are probably poorer for it.
Working in a mental hospital during WWII can give a person quite a perspective.
Nice story.
Their still being around, and in such amazing shape, is a lot of why I visited them on my way back from Nashville.
The gray part reminds me of another story….I intentionally posted the picture of them Wednesday in the intro to this series. She was 71 in that picture and her hair is still the same color. Somebody once accused her of being vain and dying her hair. Her response was asking them why anyone of sound mind would dye their hair that color of brown when there were so many choices. That was the last time that accusation flew.
These Jason chronicles are genuine homespun marvels with just the right amount of vinegar.
Letter from Lido… hehehe
I vote Grandma Iris gets her own talk and current affairs show.
Quite a few names about these days need to take a long hard look, and Iris sounds just the person to hold up the mirror…
Wow, some of life’s lessons indeed. She definitely cared enough to tell you, and it seems to have worked. You appear to be reasonably responsible in adulthood.
My mother’s torrent of nagging and criticism was mostly water off a duck’s back, but I will never forget the day I flippantly insulted my uncle and he said “I don’t appreciate that, don’t do that again”. I didn’t…
Perhaps too responsible!
Somebody once commented here that the most telling conversations take place in cars and dark rooms. The ones that have more fully formed my adult self have definitely taken place in cars.
When the last of the WWII generation is gone, we will all miss those kind of talks. We hated them at the time, but in the fullness of time we realize how right they were and how much we needed to hear them. With the long lives of struggle and hard times and much accomplishment, there was a tenor to the talks missing from later generations.
On the Aries, it must have been a big dose of modernity after the Impala. Chrysler tried to make the car feel bigger than it was, but still a big change. Iacocca’s mailbag probably had much interesting reading. It was like lots of people going from a crew cab pickup to a Corolla.
“Soon, I had the entire length pulled out, with the seatbelt on Grandpa’s torso unmoved and without slack. As I pondered when I wanted to do this, I just decided to go for it. Releasing the seatbelt, the automatic tensioner quickly and loudly pulled the slack back onto the reel.”
That was so damned funny!!! When I’m driving now, my kids think it is hilarious to yank back on the seatbelt. The idea of letting the reel out and snapping it back full length is sheer awesomeness. I didn’t grow up either.
Iris is dialing your number as we read this….
What a great story. Reading this story, I felt like I was sitting in the sweltering K car with you and your sister being reprimanded myself.
Most of my own attempts to talk to my own children about Responsibility haven’t been quite so impactful… maybe I can borrow a few lessons from Grandma Iris. And throw in a dose of K-car. That ought to work!
She hasn’t changed since then. The only difference now is she has the pacemaker, and Grandpa – with his old feeble heart – does not.
God bless Grandma Iris. I feel like I want to adopt her. This series is off to a stellar start.
“…velvet covered verbal fist…”
Jason, you need to cut that shit out or you’ll catch some venereal disease like those prostitutes did. 🙂 Love it.
A fitting setting: A K-car at Kmart.
It’s amazing how sometimes words can have MORE of an effect on a young person than any spanking (child abuse, these days!) ever did! As the recipient/victim of such “motivational” talks, I can fully emphatize with you! 🙂
My grandfather made a very similar vehicular move, going from the ’79 Malibu to an ’86 Reliant. His was a 4-door, not sure of trim level. He didn’t care for it very much, as it was gone in less than 3 years–he must have been OK with Mopar products overall though as it was replaced by an ’89 Voyager LE.
I don’t ever recall having been reprimanded by my grandparents, but I would have been mortified if it had happened. While they were/are very kind and loving people, there was an unspoken expectation from my parents that you were to be on your best behavior by default when in their presence.
I say were/are as my maternal grandfather passed on in 2001, but Nana Mary is still very much with us at age 87. (I didn’t know my paternal grandparents nearly as well, having been ages 5 and 10 when they died, and living 10 hours away we saw them once a year usually.) Jason, you’re very lucky to still have Albert and Iris in your life!
You’re right, some grandparents don’t have to say a word, though my paternal grandparents, by talking up the accomplishments of my overachieving cousins, put pressure on indirectly.
Watching her order my dad & his grown brothers around, like Queen Victoria did with her sons, was a hoot; the family pecking order never changes. She lived to 104, maybe keeping tabs on •everyone• was part of that.
I love this story. I just took a ride last weekend to the assisted living facility where my own grandmother resides these days. For as long as I can remember she’s been ending most interactions with any of the men in her life, whether my grandfather, any of my brothers or myself with “…and don’t be a horse’s ass”. For some reason she seems to generally expect that men specifically are prone to being, well…horse’s asses, I guess. This is an opinion that is clearly based on experience, and probably shouldn’t be argued with, so we all have been programmed to accept the admonishment jovially. At 92 she’s softened a bit, perhaps because she now lives in the company of other old folks who might question her choice of words. Her last words to me on Saturday were, “…and behave yourself”. I considered telling her not to be a horse’s ass, but I thought better of it. Nowadays I’m always sure to give consideration to our interactions, aware of the fact that any mundane conversation might be the last one.
“Don’t be a Horse’s ass” would not be an unlikely final comment from my grandmother.
Her husband’s last words to my mother, incidentally, were, “Judy, she’s always right. It’s just easier that way”. He of course was referring to my grandmother.
Enjoy them. And don’t be a horse’s ass.
“The more I pulled, the more my sister encouraged me.”
Um, I think we know who the real problem here was. I have a younger sister, and also know how it was to be led to perdition. 🙂
The original K coupe was always a little homely in its more base forms. The rear side window was an odd one, probably built with the hope that most cars would receive the landau top that eventually graced the LeBaron coupes.
The 1985 update your grandparents had tried to better integrate the rear side windows, but appeared to be done on a budget and was a compromised design.
The basic Ks generally looked best as wagons, sedans, and coupes, in that order.
The K coupes were still doing the left over 70’s ‘opera windows’, it seemed.
By mid 80’s plain Jane 2 doors were fading away, but ‘personal lux’ were still popular, for a while. Just that Ford T-Bird was style leader, versus GM’s boxy G bodies from ’78.
Grandmother Iris has a real talent for putting the fear of God into a man’s heart.
My grandparents have been gone since the early ’70’s. Grandmother on my Dad’s side was a bit more on the salty side. She lived with us during her last few years. The impression she left with me was profound but in a different way. She had a toy poodle that was annoying, brought never ending barking to a new level, and she would rarely tell it to shut up.
One day a package arrived in the mail, it was a animal “shock stick” that took 6 or 8 D batteries and had two metal probes on the end that would spark when the switch was depressed. This was to “discipline Gi Gi, her little rat dog”. We had a Sheltie dog, named Lassie. Very well behaved. Gi Gi started to bark madly for a few minutes, and finally Lassie barked a little in response, and grandma walked over to Lassie, shoved the shock stick into the dogs back and hit the switch. The yelping was loud and fast. My thoughts were WTF?, her dog was the offender here. I soon learned the stick was to be used on my dog when her dog was an asshole!
Needless to say, when Grandma wasn’t around and GI GI started barking, I would go after her dog with the shock stick. Grandma always wondered why GI GI would shake and pee on the floor if I walked by her little dog holding the shock stick. I think she used it once on her dog, and I lost count how many times she would abuse poor Lassie.
For a minute I thought the photo of the soap opera pair was a picture of grandma Iris and grandpa Albert in their prime!
Never rode or drove a K car, but there really were tons of them on the road back in the day. Mom passed in 2010 at age 81, and Dad lived until 2013 at age 90. His hair was still mostly dark until the end. Grandparents were all in their mid to late ’70’s when they passed.
Great story, when dad got his pacemaker around 2006 it really improved his quality of life big time. Night and day difference in his energy level.
LOL!
Considering the potential view, I have no idea how this guy’s eyes were not looking down. Then again, he worked with her daily and was probably used to it.
Ha ha ha!
I NEVER remember my Mom’s father saying anything…..but his looks!!!! When my family visited my Mom’s folks, my Grandad just sat in his chair (sort of like Archie Bunker) and if he looked in your direction it made your blood chill a bit.
My Grammy looked like an older version of my Mom. When you were on Gram’s good side she could be quite pleasant, when you weren’t….. Well, she would “rat you out” to your parents and your parents disciplined you.
The only car my Mom’s folks ever owned was a 53 Chevy. Neither of them ever had a driver’s license so when they went somewhere in their car my Mom drove them.
On cold mornings a neighbor used to put a brick on the gas pedal of that thing to “warm up” and go back in the house. Thought it was going to blow up.
What a great story. As was said above, I miss the generation that made it through the Depression. There was a directness about them, along with the universal understanding among their age group that when one of them came across a misbehaving kid, they had the authority to do something about it, no matter whose kid it was.
My father had an ’81 Aries 2-door, white, tan interior, and 3-speed manual transmission.
I’m not sure whatever happened to it.
I DO know that while he talked a big line about responsibility, his actions spoke louder than words and he certainly didn’t live very responsibly, in oh so many ways.
Another great Family story .
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I wish I’da ever met my Grandparents , they weren’t interested in any of their many Grand kids .
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I’m always trying to get our Foster boys to understand and accept responsibility .
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I expected that K Car to be in a Wall Mart parking lot =8-)
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-Nate