If Nana And Papa Could Be Here
By Keith Boykin, in pop culture
Thursday, October 23 2003, 11:16AM
They say that youth is wasted on the young. I'm not sure if that's right, but I find myself celebrating the joys of youth with the wisdom of age. Getting old doesn't have to mean losing touch with all that we did when we were young. My great grandparents taught me that.
I had a dream last night about "The Simpsons" and "South Park." I woke up wondering why no one ever put the two shows together. If we can have Freddy v. Jason, why not The Simpsons v. South Park? I can see it now. Bart takes on Cartman, Springfield fights South Park, and Kenny, of course, dies in the end.
Believe it or not, I don't watch a lot of television, but the cartoons are the funniest things on the tube. I think I like the cartoon figures more than the real people. Maybe because the cartoon characters are always funny and they never change. In any event, I've been a Simpsons fan for more than a decade now, and it always reminds me of my great grandfather.
One sweltering summer afternoon when I was in college, I went to pick up my great grandfather from his retirement home. "Keith, ain't you getting a little too old for them short pants?" he asked. "Well it's 95 degrees outside, Papa."
We were quite an odd couple, I in my shorts and he in a full-length shirt, trousers (he always called them trousers) and an ancient sports jacket. I blasted the air in the car and he made his obligatory response. "Boy, you got good air." I smiled, knowing that I had met his approval.
In Papa's conservative old-fashioned world, adults always dressed and behaved like adults. Even when he relaxed by himself at home, Papa wore his trousers and work shirt as he reclined in his Lazy-Boy watching the ball game (always the St. Louis Cardinals) or "Bowling for Dollars" or "Gunsmoke" or some other television show I associated with older people.
In his world, old people were supposed to behave a certain way. Wearing shorts was taboo for adults, especially for respectable working black men. Papa grew up in a world of racial segregation. Born in rural Mississippi at the turn of the century, he fled to St. Louis to be a part of the big city. He got his first big job working in a warehouse and spent his life doing what he was supposed to do. He lived in a world where young people got a job early on and stayed there until they retired with a gold watch.
He also lived in a world where couples got married in their youth and didn't think about divorce. Papa married Carrie, my great grandmother, and they bought a house together in the black part of town, North St. Louis. In some ways, they were very different, but they had long ago learned to deal with those differences.
By the time I came around in the 1970s, Nana and Papa were retired and living in the same house. Nana watched "The Price Is Right" in the morning and then turned on her "stories" in the afternoon. "General Hospital" was always her favorite. When Papa was gone, she would sneak sips of Falstaff beer she had secretly planted behind furniture throughout the house. When he was home, she would puff on her Viceroy cigarettes while he sucked on his pipe.
Nana never complained when I asked for jelly sandwiches throughout the day. I didn't need peanut butter or anything special. All I needed was Welch's grape jelly and two slices of Wonder Bread.
Fortunately for my health, I grew out of that habit. But I never grew out of the belief that growing older doesn't have to mean being old. My great grandmother passed away in February 1980 and my great grandfather carried on for nearly a dozen years by himself.
I loved my great grandparents, and I'm glad I had the chance to know them. They lived in a different world from mine. They remembered Roosevelt, Truman, Kennedy and King. They lived before answering machines, cell phones and personal computers, and yet they still had rich lives.
I learned how to be a responsible adult from watching Nana and Papa, but I also saw how much the world has changed since their youth. I don't think Papa would have understood why a grown man would watch cartoons, but he would know that his great grandson was happy watching them.
In the end, I think that was all that mattered to him.
Comments conceal
Kenneth
October 23 2003, 2:26PM
Thanks for the walk down memory lane as well as a reminder of my own tri-generational upbringing.
My grandfather lived with my mom, dad, brother and I. Born in 1903, he also called his pants trousers, never wore shorts, watched those TV shows and sounds like a similar kind of man your great-grandfather was. He also called the sofa a davenport, the refrigerator and ice box, and our 250-watt stereo system a phonograph, ha ha.
Growing up in St. Louis back then doesn't seem so long ago. Yet Flagstaff has been out of business for what seems like forever. There was something eternaly reliable about life in North St. Louis back then (I was raised near Union and West Florissant).
By the way, it was all about the Y&R in my house...ha ha.
Like a caricature or cartoon character (not to in any way reduce my respect for him) my grandfather seemed to never deviate from his character or his well-worn routine.
As an animated character, I would draw him as he almost always appeared: neatly dressed, clean, well-groomed, and in a light blue shirt and dark blue "trousers." (of course he didn't wear the exact same thing everyday but this seemed to be his favorite ensemble).
A widower as well, he outlived his wife nearly 30 years, a grandmother I never met having been born 12 years after her somewhat young death.
It's nice to remember those things and those people and to be grateful for such magnificent role models as well the stability they provided in reality that we can only now seem to find in far from realistic forms of cartoon animation...
Jhoziah
October 23 2003, 8:44PM
Unfortunately , I don't have a story to tell like those above . My maternal grandmother died of heart failure at the young age of 49 . What I do remember of her was that she was feisty as hell ! Full of life . My paternal grandmother , who I didn't really get to know until my late teens , passed in 2000 after battling a long illness . She was 90 years old . I never met my grandfathers . I'm in my 30's & I've been told by some that I look younger than my age & by other's that I look just my age . I always think to myself how am supposed to look at my age ? How am I supposed to feel ? To act ? What kind of music should I be listening to ? What kind of movies or tv programs should I be watching ? The answer ? I am who I am . When it comes to enjoying life , there is no such thing as " age appropriate " . Do what feels good to you . If you want to wear shorts , wear 'em ! If The Simpsons & South Side Park are your thing , I don't care how old you are , do you ! I believe if more people live by this principle , then there wouldn't be this obsession to find some " fountain of youth " . If you you're blessed , you'll live to be what we consider old . If you still can & still want to , ride that bike , swim those laps , & dance your dance . I ain't mad at you .
Maurice
October 23 2003, 10:51PM
Keith, going down memory lane brought back my own blood memories and tears this evening. I was fortunate enough to have had both sets of great grand parents live well into the 90's. As they use say "boy you come from good stock. I use to swing from the "portch" eating cheese sandwiches, red dirt and drinking well water with my cousins while my grand mother diped snuff from a glass jar. I really miss my "mean ole" great granny.
Dilaw
November 24 2003, 10:30PM
Wow! We all have a story, right? I do have my memories of my maternal grandmother and my god-mother. Both of whom have gone on...However, its funny that I'm reading about grand and great grandmothers b/c I met my Paternal Grandmother one year ago last month, along with numerous aunts, uncles, 1st and second cousins. I'd thought about her numerous times over the last 3 or 4 years and after experiencing a corporate downsizing in Aug 2002, left Houston for the Beaumont, TX area to find her. It wasn't difficult. I had her number within 48hrs. For two months I resided with her in her 'lil apt. In fact, I slept at her feet. I felt like a kid. Many nights I was awakened by her caughing or her respirator. (She'd suffered a couple of strokes & has asthma). And after her treatment she'd fall asleep, but I couldn't. Once I've been awakened out of deep rest, it's difficult to return to sleep. So, I'd lie there and was thankful that I'd got a chance to see her. I'd wait on her hand and foot. She didn't want me out of her sight for a second. In those two months, my life has been enriched in ways I had never imagined. I have realized one thing...I am so very much like her. One thing we have in common is our fondness for sweets. After lunch or dinner we must have something sweet, no matter how filled we are. Unfortunately, there were drama's that caused me to pack my bags and head for Dallas, my original destination after the down-sizing. And I've only seen her once in the last year. Fortunately, my granmother (grandma as I call her - and she loves to hear me call her that) is still living. She turns 83 THIS month. I think I'll sign off here and give her a call. We both can talk. (I also get that from her). And she likes staying up late and rising early. Just as I do. Probably b/c she thinks she's going to miss something. LOL.
Keith, thanks for sharing...and to the rest of u Gentlemen, It has been my pleasure. Look for the rest of my story in my forthcoming book; Til them,
Greater Peace,
Dilaw