For the first half of the year we lived in that apartment, our lives were pretty mundane. Every once in a while we would walk town to a local bar called Picasso's (no joke). My parents would drink and my brother and I would eat. The reason I remember this place in particular is because they had a hamburger served with a fried egg on top. It was the most exotic thing I, as a 10 year old, could possibly imagine ever existing on the entire planet.
Some nights, a band of gods honest gypsies would dance in the area between the buildings. Everyone would gather out on their patios and watch the show of ethnic stereotyping and then throw money down. I'm pretty sure someone tipped this little band off to the massive number of Americans that lived in the complex. Somehow, I just don't imagine the local community finding this as charming as we did.
Nights when the band of gypsies were not entertaining us, and more likely than not at a job waiting tables, we gathered 'round the radio. We had no closets, no phones and we had no TV. But, we did have CBS Radio Mystery Theater and Paul Harvey on Armed Forces Radio. Sometimes, when I think back I have to shake my head and adjust the faces in my mind. I was not Mary Ellen Walton, and my brother did not have a giant mole on his cheek. This was 1982. We were living in Spain, not Walton mountain. It's difficult for me to distinguish the two in my mind.
I remember the day as as clearly as a pint of vodka. My dad walked through the door of our apartment, wiped the olive oil off of his head and said,
"I have bought something for the entire family. It is going to change our lives and make us better people."
"What is it!, What is it!, Is it a new radio?"
"No stupid, look at the size of that box. " I told my brother.
"It;s a piano isn't it, we're going to take piano lessons"
"Settle down, Settle down kids" my dad said. "Your mother and I have been saving money for a full year, and recently she sold a kidney she wasn't using"
He pulled out his pocket knife, and began to cut his way through the gigantic box. My brother and I stared, with a hunger in our eyes.
It was some sort of electrical something, a giant, bland, blah something...
"What is it?" I asked
We circles the bland, blah, something for what felt like hours.
"This is called a video cassette recorder, the technical people like to call it a V-C-R."
"What does it do, record what we say?"
"Oh god dad, it's just a fancy new radio, isn't it?"
My dad set it up and explained that we would never have to set foot in a movie theater again. This was the future, movies in your house, whenever you wanted them.
That promise however, was a little long in coming. Movie ran you about $100 and the pirating of movies was in its infancy
Therefore, it was NOT a movie we put into the belly of the mammoth beast.........
Apparently, in anticipation of this financial windfall, my family back in the states made a tape and sent it over. So, for the first six months of our lives of the future, we watched 3 episodes of "The Greatest American Hero" over and over and over and over.
Do not take my humor in jest, this was indeed a fantastic invention. Here was the fabulous thing about it, you could plug in that remote control, stop it when a commercial came on and fast forward.
Fast forward through television?! The world of the future was indeed going to be a fast paced extravaganza. I had signed my name on the dotted line and climbed aboard that train.
I would later find out that the wood grain was not real, just there to make it elegant. I loved the idea of this magnificent invention being carved from wood. What more could the trees do for us than........this.
I would learn years later that my dad wrote a bad check for the dream machine. He would continue to write bad checks....so many in fact that they kicked him out of the air force.
When I was older I remember receiving a TV in my bed room for my birthday. A few weeks later that TV was taken out of my bedroom. Not for breaking any rules. or for making a bad grade. But, because the repo man said it had to be so.
I'm sure that this is where the fighting began. I know that when my mom married this guy, this is not what she signed up for. Living in a foreign country without her family or friends, and a man who writes bad checks to government agencies?!
Yeah, in the end maybe it wasn't so great......but for those first few months in that Spanish apartment, believe it or not I was walking on air. I never dreamed I could feel so free ee eee.
.......and that wood grain sure was elegant.
Some nights, a band of gods honest gypsies would dance in the area between the buildings. Everyone would gather out on their patios and watch the show of ethnic stereotyping and then throw money down. I'm pretty sure someone tipped this little band off to the massive number of Americans that lived in the complex. Somehow, I just don't imagine the local community finding this as charming as we did.
Nights when the band of gypsies were not entertaining us, and more likely than not at a job waiting tables, we gathered 'round the radio. We had no closets, no phones and we had no TV. But, we did have CBS Radio Mystery Theater and Paul Harvey on Armed Forces Radio. Sometimes, when I think back I have to shake my head and adjust the faces in my mind. I was not Mary Ellen Walton, and my brother did not have a giant mole on his cheek. This was 1982. We were living in Spain, not Walton mountain. It's difficult for me to distinguish the two in my mind.
I remember the day as as clearly as a pint of vodka. My dad walked through the door of our apartment, wiped the olive oil off of his head and said,
"I have bought something for the entire family. It is going to change our lives and make us better people."
"What is it!, What is it!, Is it a new radio?"
"No stupid, look at the size of that box. " I told my brother.
"It;s a piano isn't it, we're going to take piano lessons"
"Settle down, Settle down kids" my dad said. "Your mother and I have been saving money for a full year, and recently she sold a kidney she wasn't using"
He pulled out his pocket knife, and began to cut his way through the gigantic box. My brother and I stared, with a hunger in our eyes.
It was some sort of electrical something, a giant, bland, blah something...
"What is it?" I asked
We circles the bland, blah, something for what felt like hours.
"This is called a video cassette recorder, the technical people like to call it a V-C-R."
"What does it do, record what we say?"
"Oh god dad, it's just a fancy new radio, isn't it?"
My dad set it up and explained that we would never have to set foot in a movie theater again. This was the future, movies in your house, whenever you wanted them.
That promise however, was a little long in coming. Movie ran you about $100 and the pirating of movies was in its infancy
Therefore, it was NOT a movie we put into the belly of the mammoth beast.........
Apparently, in anticipation of this financial windfall, my family back in the states made a tape and sent it over. So, for the first six months of our lives of the future, we watched 3 episodes of "The Greatest American Hero" over and over and over and over.
Do not take my humor in jest, this was indeed a fantastic invention. Here was the fabulous thing about it, you could plug in that remote control, stop it when a commercial came on and fast forward.
Fast forward through television?! The world of the future was indeed going to be a fast paced extravaganza. I had signed my name on the dotted line and climbed aboard that train.
I would later find out that the wood grain was not real, just there to make it elegant. I loved the idea of this magnificent invention being carved from wood. What more could the trees do for us than........this.
I would learn years later that my dad wrote a bad check for the dream machine. He would continue to write bad checks....so many in fact that they kicked him out of the air force.
When I was older I remember receiving a TV in my bed room for my birthday. A few weeks later that TV was taken out of my bedroom. Not for breaking any rules. or for making a bad grade. But, because the repo man said it had to be so.
I'm sure that this is where the fighting began. I know that when my mom married this guy, this is not what she signed up for. Living in a foreign country without her family or friends, and a man who writes bad checks to government agencies?!
Yeah, in the end maybe it wasn't so great......but for those first few months in that Spanish apartment, believe it or not I was walking on air. I never dreamed I could feel so free ee eee.
.......and that wood grain sure was elegant.
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