The Sunday Memory Drawer - Easter Finery

Jesus Christ is risen today.  Hallelujah!!  Hopefully he will forgive you for wearing hats like this.

Yes, we celebrate the holiday where the most outlandish of the absurd get paraded up and down Fifth Avenue in New York.   I am glad I never got sucked into this nonsense.

Or did I?  Indeed, Easter is the lost holiday for me.  Oh, I'll go to church, for sure.  But, after that, I usually head home, switch to my play clothes, and watch a baseball game.  Even better for me this year.   I'm headed to Dodger Stadium for an afternoon game.   I might as well.   If you're not exchanging gifts, what the hell is the point of a holiday?  

I didn't have that luxury when I was a gift. Because Easter was the annual family photo op day.  The women in my family decked out in their finest.   And me winding up in some ridiculous get-up that no self-assured five-year-old should ever endure.  For instance...

Yep, I've shown this before and it's embarrassing all over again.  This is the Easter picture during my Bing Crosby period. I don't look happy in this photo. Would you? I look like some old Jewish ex-vaudevillean waiting for a bus on the Grand Concourse. Or one of those Jerry Mahoney dummies. With emphasis on the word "dummy." This is why all children, at some point in time, hate their parents.

To make matters worse, my father was going through his creative period in playing with his prized Argus Technicolor camera.  

"Lenny, go stand by that tree and pretend you're looking for something."

Like what?   My dignity.  That's AWOL.

As I look at these Easter photos all over again, I can feel the shirt tightening around my neck one more time.  As if I'm being choked by that fucking bow tie. Now I know why they didn't flinch when I told them I wanted to live at a college that was less than 10 miles from my house.   They knew these pictures existed and there was a price that needed to be paid.

At least, the three of us are captured for posterity in this one. Knowing my mother's fashion sense, I have no idea why she's wearing a red dress that clearly clashes with my red sport jacket.

A RED SPORTS JACKET!!!  With something in the pocket that might be a handkerchief.  What the hell is going on in my life at this juncture???  And, from the twisted expression on my face, I'm pondering that very question at that exact moment.  Either that or perhaps I'm the youngest person to ever suffer a stroke.  

In retrospect, I realize that my dad wore a suit rarely.  On Easter or whenever somebody in the family wound up being "stretched out" down at Suchy's Funeral Parlor in the Bronx.  From what I see here, he wore the fancier outfits well.  I doubt Mom wore this dress to any wakes.  On second thought, she might have.   It all depends on who it was.

Back to the RED SPORTS JACKET, there is a follow-up story.   When I previously posted this photo in a blog entry, a good friend of mine from grade school immediately recognized it.   Not from me, but from her brother wearing the same jacket.   As we figured out, my mom used to give my friend's mother clothes that I outgrew.  Hopefully, they didn't hand it down any further and simply garbage bagged it at some point.  

Happy Easter, gang.  Time to put on my Dodger jersey.

Dinner last night:  Moo shu pork from Century Dragon.