It seems like everyone has an addiction to overcome.
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We've all heard about Charlie Sheen and his many addictions including drugs and sex.
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| people.com for pic |
And, it's only every other day that there is some new celebrity or politician on the news for sexual addictions.
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So many junkies in the limelight!
Is this something new?
No way!
Addicts have always been around, but now, thanks to technology and media, we get to hear all about it (whether we want to or not).
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Well, I'm no celebrity, and I'm definitely not a politician. But, I, too, have had to overcome the chains of addiction.
The clouds of addiction rolled over my sunshine when I was but a wee lass.
You see, when I was a kid, we lived in a cookie cutter neighborhood. It was your 1980's, run-of-the-mill, block after block of brick houses with manicured lawns.
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Every year, as the weather got warmer, we would get a special visitor to our neighborhood.
All the children would drop everything and run down the street to chase after the beloved Ice Cream Truck.
"Pop Goes The Weasel" chimes could be heard blaring from three blocks away.
And, it was a good thing, because that would give my brother and me plenty of time to get mom to fork over some change.
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Man, that ice cream truck had the good stuff, too!
My brother always got a Pac Man pop. It was lemon sherbert shaped like Pac Man with a gumball for the eye.
The Ice Cream Man had a Fudge Bomb, my favorite, which was chocolate and vanilla ice cream shaped like a bomb on a stick. It was an explosion of creamy chocolate and vanilla in my mouth.
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He had these little cups of vanilla ice cream with your choice of fudge or strawberry swirl, and the coolest part was the little wooden spoon that came with it.
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Dreamsicles, Eskimo Pies, rainbow sno cones, any flavor Bullet Pops, Twin Pops, and Good Humor brand strawberry shortcake ice cream bars...
That's all it took and we were hooked.
Like dogs to a whistle, we would come running and beg for treats.
Day after day the ice cream truck would come, but never at quite the same time. This was a good strategy because he kept us on our toes, waiting, dreaming of that sweet ice cream.
We were angry, anxious, chomping at the bit.
Even when we would try to play, we would be listening for the chiming call of heaven.
Then, the ice cream truck would come, and all would be well in the neighborhood again.
One day, terror struck the hearts of my brother and me.
Our hearts sank into our stomachs and tears filled our eyes, but our mother stood firmly and declared she would not give one more red penny for the ice cream truck.
(Every time she yelled at us, she always asked, "Do you hear me?" I don't know, like she wasn't yelling loud enough or something?)
This was somewhat disturbing to us, given our dependency on the frozen treats. We slipped off to my room to feel sorry for ourselves and complain about Mommy Dearest.
Luckily
We each had small jars of change, so we did not worry too long. We counted out our pennies, nickels, and dimes and rationed it so that we had about a week's worth of ice cream truck money.
We figured, by then, mom would come off her strike against the ice cream man.
Once again, all was well in the neighborhood.
The ice cream man didn't like us very much that week, and I think he tried to outrun us a couple times.
But, never underestimate a child's need for a frozen treat fix.
Everyday that week, we would place our order and open our little fists full of coins for them to drop on the metal counter. Some of the coins would stick to our little hands because we had gripped them so tightly.
Everyday that week, the ice cream man would roll his eyes; count the pennies, nickels, and dimes; rake it off the counter; and hand over the frozen delights.
But, we knew he would take the pennies. Money was money, and as long as he got exact change, he would give us what we wanted.
After a week, we were out of change.
So, we went to our mom to ask for ice cream money.
quotes from The Godfather
After she turned us down, we once again found ourselves weeping in my room.
Suddenly, we could hear the faint chimes of the ice cream truck, and desperation washed over us.
We scurried around our rooms, scrounging for change.
We ransacked the place, looking in our toy boxes, under our beds, and in the pockets of our dirty clothes.
Even after all of that, we only came up with $0.16 between us.
We could hear "Pop Goes the Weasel" fading in the distance.
As we ran out the door, we could see the ice cream truck turn the corner. So, we darted across the street and through the yards between the houses and wound up on the next street over.
We could see the ice cream truck coasting slowly down the street, blaring his pied piper chimes. We ran down the middle of the street toward the truck, waving our arms and shouting noncohesively.
The truck slowed to a stop, and the ice cream man slid the window open and leaned on the counter.
Gasping for air, I managed to get some words out.
He glared at us.
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| quote from The Godfather |
Frantic, I knew I had to make some sort of deal.
Again, he glared at us.
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| quote from The Godfather |
With that, he slammed the window shut and continued coasting down the road.
We walked home, sniffling, teary eyed, with our faces flushed from all the commotion.
Then, we saw our friends, sitting on the curb, enjoying their sweet treat bliss. We tried to talk to them, but they just yelled at us.
That's when we realized that our friends were only our friends when ice cream was involved.
We dragged our feet back home, and went to my room to wallow in our self pity.
Luckily
My mom had several, empty, miniature perfume bottles in a box in the garage. So, my brother and I concocted our very own homemade perfume, (which was a mixture of peroxide, cinnamon and vanilla extracts, and of course water). We tied a small bow on each one, arranged them neatly in a shoe box, and hit the street.
Although cinnamon and vanilla smell very fragrant on their own, mixed with the lingering perfume in each bottle made it smell more like vomit in a jar, topped with a cute bow.
Despite this, it didn't take long to sell every bottle.
Looking back, I have to wonder what our neighbors must have been thinking. Each time, they would smile and giggle, dig in their purses or pockets, and had us hands full of change. If my mother had known, I'm sure she would have scooped us up and moved away during the night from the sheer embarrassment of the "fizzy perfume."
Now, we once again had funds with which to get our frozen heroin on a stick.
Until...
Luckily
Mom saved all the plastic eggs she used to hide in the yard for us on Easter and stored them in a box in the garage. We found the box of plastic Easter Eggs, set up two rows of lawn chairs, and used an empty box to create a sign. Now, we were ready for business.
We headed out into the neighborhood to recruit students for our Master Hunters School of Easter Egg Hunting.
The fact that it was late June made no difference to us kids. It was never too early to begin training for Easter Egg hunting.
The hard part was the actual training, and we weren't kidding around, either.
I watched enough commercials to know the tricks of the trade. Of course one of them would be champion, my brother and I were not hunting, so one of them had to win.
At $1 per kid, it didn't take much to have enough money for another week of ice cream.
Keithie lived right next door to us. His dad had a VW van and would let us play Star Wars in it sometimes. Keithie always had to be Chewbacca. To him, that meant constant Wookie noises. So, we never played for very long before we would scream at him and make him cry.
He would cry every time he did not get his way, then run in his house and tattle on us. His dad never said anything, but his mom would tell our moms. Then, we would all have to go inside to be punished for being mean to the stinky little brat.
After privately discussing the situation, my brother and I decided that we were not willing to take the risk of blowing the mission.
He agreed, and we were happy to get the extra $2.
With a stigma like "dishonorable discharge," every kid was willing to do anything to stay in the training club.
Besides normal training exercises like jumping jacks and running, here are a few things included in our regimen:
and
Mom wasn't too happy when she saw her holly bushes trampled, but we just blamed the big, stupid dog from down the street. One time, he went into our backyard and chewed mom's brand new rose bushes down to nothing but sticks in the ground. So, it wasn't a stretch to blame him for the trampled holly bushes.
and
Mom wasn't too happy about her fence, either. But, the big, stupid dog was a perfect scape goat for this destruction of property as well.
Finally the training was over.
We conducted a neighborhood Easter Egg hunt.
My mother asked us why we were doing that and laughed when we told her we were training the other kids to be Master Egg Hunters like us.
After it was all said and done, my brother and I had our ice cream money. We were happy once again.
It wasn't long before we were out of money yet again.
Off to the garage we ran. I knew there was a box of Christmas lights, just sitting there, being ignored.
JACKPOT!
It was June, no need for Christmas lights! So, we pulled out each little bulb carefully and put them in a large Ziplock bag.
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You see, we knew that when these small bulbs were flung on the sidewalk, they would make a pop much like that of a cap gun.
Fun for everyone!
We hit the street and sold them to all the kids in the neighborhood.
The bulbs sold like hotcakes, and it wasn't long until we had ice cream money.
Everything was going great.
Until...
That evening, my mom, step-dad, brother, and I were just relaxing and watching The Cosby Show when the doorbell rang.
It was Keithie and his mom.
I hated her.
She was a cow.
My mother apologized to the heifer and made us give Keithie his money back.
We asked Keithie's mom if we could come and live with her, but she just mooed some gripe about us being heathens. We knew we were safe as long as there were witnesses, but when the front door closed, the gates of hell opened right before our eyes.
When my mother would get angry- really angry- she would raise her left eyebrow, grit her teeth, and purse her lips. She would grumble commands like that of a demonic possessed person- without even moving her lips. This scared us more than any spanking or punishment. And, tears would not save us.
After we explained that we just wanted ice cream money, my mother made us go to bed.
The next day, she drove us to my grandparent's house. No ice cream trucks went out there. They lived in the country, in the woods. There, we would quit the ice cream truck cold turkey.
Luckily
One thing's for sure. As a child addict, I learned a valuable lesson:
Addicts will use creative ingenuity to get what they want. Just look at Charlie Sheen, he created a cooking show!
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