Why Peter Frampton was Never the Same to Me (Remix)

The following is a repost from my old, recently deleted blog. There were a handful of posts there that I couldn't bear to lose, so I'm reviving a few of them here.

One life changing day when I was in high school, my friend Trisha and I decided to walk home to my house for some lunch. Trish told her boyfriend where she was going and off we went. Walking home meant following the railroad tracks from the inner city area of downtown Norfolk, Virginia, behind the pool halls, through the middle of the housing projects, the kind of place you'd half expect to find a body or two tossed in the ditch. Being the young (and looking back, seriously ignorant) teenaged girls that we were, we set out on our journey. The tracks we followed were strewn with MD 20/20 bottles, the occasional shoe and from time to time we crossed the path of a few of those whopper sized wharf rats. To us, these things were common place, nothing to be concerned about. It wasn't a short trip, we hoofed it for a good 40 minutes before we found ourselves in my neighborhood.

We approached my block slowly, being careful to not be seen by a nosey neighbor who might tell Ma they'd seen us there during school hours. My aunt Gail and her family lived in the house directly across the street from us, but I knew they would all be at work. After the divorce and looking for a way to make the house payment, Ma had had the upstairs renovated to accommodate two borders. The people who rented the rooms upstairs had a separate entrance through the back, which we could block off by locking the door between the dining room and the kitchen. The neighbors were accustomed to seeing people walk around to the back of the house, so Trish went in the back and I went through the front, thinking it would be less suspicious. In retrospect, I realize how stupid we must have looked to anyone watching.

We settled in front of the t.v., pigging out on instant mac and cheese and watching soaps, when there was a knock at the front door. I peeked out the curtain sheer which covered the door and saw four more of my friends, Linda, her boyfriend Kenny, our friend Mike and his brother Nicky. It seems Trisha's boyfriend had told his buddy Mike that we were there. Unlike us, they'd driven over and left the Chevelle parked down the road. If I'd known, it would have been nice to have gotten a ride instead of walking through all of creation. I invited them in, but I was already a little nervous about having this many people at the house during the day.It wasn't long before Mike's girlfriend, Kelly showed up. This made me even more nervous because although she could have passed for much older, she was only 14, and she had a big mouth. It's all kind of a blur after that, people kept showing up, there were cases of beer being brought in the back door. There were rumors, later, that someone had pot. It wasn't long before we were all pretty drunk, stereo blasting, I didn't even know half the people there, the final tally was somewhere around thirty drunken teenagers strewn about our house in various stages of moral corruption. Oh but, by God, for the first time in my life.. I was the coolest kid at Booker T. Washington High School.

There was, however, a small kink in our master plan. I was in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet because, ya know, when you drink vast quantities of cheap beer you have to tinkle ALOT, when Trisha came in, totally dismissing my obvious need for some privacy, looking as concerned as one can look when they're falling down drunk. "Hey.. Mama.. (everyone called me Mama in high school, don't ask), some crazy woman just pulled up in a red car and she's got Bubba Washlager in a headlock holding a can of mace to his face. You might wanna come check it out."

Red car.

Crazy Woman.

With mace.

It could only mean one thing. Ma was home and the proverbial shit was about to hit the fan. While Trisha and I were checking the neighborhood for the "all clear" I forgot one tiny, tiny detail. Ma's uncle Tom was visiting from North Carolina and was staying over at my aunt Gail's house. He'd seen the copious amounts of alcoholic beverage being carted to the back door and was concerned that our borders were having a free for all. Uncle Tom had been one of Podunk County's most decorated sheriff's deputies, taking part in the biggest marijuana bust in their history. I guess he was feeling nostalgic for the good old days and saw the opportunity to bust some youngins for old time's sake.

If it hadn't been for all the alcohol in my system, I most likely would have had a seizure of some kind when I exited the bathroom just in time to see Ma karate kick my bedroom door open, smashing her petite little foot squarely in the middle of the Peter Frampton poster I had hanging on my door. As the door flew open, there were screams of the F word, people crying out to God and I think I peed a little, because there, in their half nekkid glory were Mike and Kelly, doing the horizontal bop right there in my bed! Ma's face was blood red, her lips pursed together like the business end of an uptight poodle. There was ranting, yelling and the scrambling for clothes by the poor couple, still shocked by the sudden humpus interuptus. I must have uttered something because that's when Ma's head spun around and our eyes met. I thought for sure that this would be the instant I would go to meet our Lord and Saviour. Her eyes became slits, shooting fire and brimstone into my very soul. Teeth clenched and tomato faced she looked at me and said, "Git yer ass in that livin' room and sit down and I swar to God if you move I'll keel you." I didn't DARE argue. I had never seen her so.. psychotic. I sat on the couch and glanced out the window to see Kenny's light blue pick-up pulling out of the driveway, people clamoring to pile in the back and escape. Ma had put the fear in them. She came back into the living room and stopped the people who hadn't made it out and, making full use of her mace, forced them all to sit down. Then she looked at me and said, "Call the police."

"Huh?"

"You heard me, call the police and tell them there's a crazy-assed woman here fixin' to kill a house full of teenagers."

So, well, that's exactly what I did. I didn't want to get maced. You should have seen the police cars in my driveway, in the yard, along the street in front of the house. Linda was really upset when the first cop to walk in the door was none other that her older brother. After Ma told the cops what was going on, Linda's brother looked at her and just said, "Little lady, you're dead. I'm tellin' Mom." An older police lieutenant took Ma out on the porch and sweet talked her until she finally stopped using words like "kill," "maim" and "beat the living shit out of every damned one of them."

Most of the rest of the officers disbanded once they realized there wasn't going to be an actual killing. The ones who remained started checking I.D.'s and questioning people. At the time, I hadn't realized that Mike had just turned 18, which further complicated the little act he was performing with his fourteen year old girlfriend. They threatened to charge him with about ten counts of contributing to the delinquency of a minor, plus statutory rape.

It wasn't pretty.

I don't think there were actually any charges ever filed. It was shortly after that when Ma agreed to let me just drop out of school. I agreed to go for one full semester and actually attend class, do my work and then we'd talk about it, which I did and got straight A's too I might add, but I just didn't want to try any more after that. In my juvenile mind, I didn't see what was wrong with what had just happened at our house. It was the same thing Ma was doing every weekend. One of my favorite quotes, heard from a guest on Oprah once, "When I didn't know any better, I did the best that I could. Now that I know better, I can do better." Kinda sums it up for me.

Although it was over twenty years ago when the legendary party took place, every once in a while I look over at Ma and say, "Remember that time you put Bubba Washlager in a headlock?" and she grins a little and giggles and answers, "You don't know how close you came to dying that day."

Ya'll be blessed :)