The other day I was driving through Marlborough to work and I thought about the Martins. Mr, Mrs, and Joel. I was remebering a few times when Mr and Mrs stopped by the house for a visit. It was nice.
To me, it's almost incredible that you don't know this. But it just shows that at certain very important times in my life, you all were just young enough not to remember. There are some very odd, somewhat bittersweet aspects to this. Perhaps it's true in the other direction but I'm guessing it was probably a little more obvious when I or Christine simply were not there.
Mr. Martin was my music teacher from grade 5 to grade 7. He introduced me to the tuba and the bass. I stayed after school almost everyday to be around playing my horn or whatever (drums, etc). I spied on other kids' private lessons, like Joni Zveska. I played basketball in the gym when it was possible. Mr. Martin drove me home almost everyday in his Cadillac. I wasn't the only kid. Other kids, most of my friends, did something of the same thing. John Songdahl, Jimmy Lewandowski, Pete Gillies, Mark Flynn, Brian Scannell, and of course, Mark Neslusan. Other kids too who you might not remember like John Ellis (French Horn) and Wayne Merson (trumpet but mostly guitar later). I would go over their house on Sundays occasionally. I watered their plants and fed their dog when they went out of town. This was hugely influential on me. I learned all about soul food, something Mom didn't serve. And the National league because Mr. Martin didn't like the racist Boston Red Sox. I learned that black people aren't a whole lot different. I learned about Lew Alcindor and the sky hook. I learned abut Sonny Rollins.
I also learned a lot about non-Catholics, so-to-speak, some of which made me uncomfortable but for weird reasons. Mostly because neither side (that I heard) made much sense to me, yet here are these people quite determined to stick to the story. I learned that a man can treat his wife a lot different than Dad.
I also learned that my racist father had some really weird blinders when it comes to actual people. Hey Dad, both Mr. Martin and Gus are black.
Mr. Martin did call his wife, Queen. I remember it as The Queen. Even Queenie on occasion. It was sweet and a little sarcastic/funny at the same time on occasion.
It's not too often that I feel envious, but I am envious of your time in school. My experience was very different. Yours was actually like the teen movies of your time portrayed.
I'm also envious of your experience with the Martin family. For me they were just these people that came by and we would stand in a circle and pray together. But I always felt warm around them. It always felt like a hug. I was aware that they were different (black) but I never really thought about it much. I guess that's the beauty of being a kid.
This might be the only time I've ever thought this, or felt it, but I kind of wish I was born closer to you guys in age. There were a few times I remember you guys (Mike or Michelle) getting me from Joslin School and going over to the Middle School for a little while after school. Like when I took the French class while I was in like 2nd grade or something. It always felt...important.
I remember some teachers actually being "cool" and hanging out with kids after school, mentoring. By the time I hit middle school all those teachers had left, and were replaced by the beginnings of the fear of people taking advantage of young kids, grabbing them and putting them in white vans, and kids crying wolf.
I never understood where the relationship between the families came from? How did we know each other? Also, how were we related to the Ball family?
ReplyDeleteI always like our visits from the Martins.
ReplyDeleteOriginally from BigBro:
ReplyDeleteLOL.
To me, it's almost incredible that you don't know this. But it just shows that at certain very important times in my life, you all were just young enough not to remember. There are some very odd, somewhat bittersweet aspects to this. Perhaps it's true in the other direction but I'm guessing it was probably a little more obvious when I or Christine simply were not there.
Mr. Martin was my music teacher from grade 5 to grade 7. He introduced me to the tuba and the bass. I stayed after school almost everyday to be around playing my horn or whatever (drums, etc). I spied on other kids' private lessons, like Joni Zveska. I played basketball in the gym when it was possible. Mr. Martin drove me home almost everyday in his Cadillac. I wasn't the only kid. Other kids, most of my friends, did something of the same thing. John Songdahl, Jimmy Lewandowski, Pete Gillies, Mark Flynn, Brian Scannell, and of course, Mark Neslusan. Other kids too who you might not remember like John Ellis (French Horn) and Wayne Merson (trumpet but mostly guitar later).
I would go over their house on Sundays occasionally. I watered their plants and fed their dog when they went out of town. This was hugely influential on me. I learned all about soul food, something Mom didn't serve. And the National league because Mr. Martin didn't like the racist Boston Red Sox. I learned that black people aren't a whole lot different. I learned about Lew Alcindor and the sky hook. I learned abut Sonny Rollins.
I also learned a lot about non-Catholics, so-to-speak, some of which made me uncomfortable but for weird reasons. Mostly because neither side (that I heard) made much sense to me, yet here are these people quite determined to stick to the story. I learned that a man can treat his wife a lot different than Dad.
I also learned that my racist father had some really weird blinders when it comes to actual people. Hey Dad, both Mr. Martin and Gus are black.
Mr. Martin did call his wife, Queen. I remember it as The Queen. Even Queenie on occasion. It was sweet and a little sarcastic/funny at the same time on occasion.
It's not too often that I feel envious, but I am envious of your time in school. My experience was very different. Yours was actually like the teen movies of your time portrayed.
ReplyDeleteI'm also envious of your experience with the Martin family. For me they were just these people that came by and we would stand in a circle and pray together. But I always felt warm around them. It always felt like a hug. I was aware that they were different (black) but I never really thought about it much. I guess that's the beauty of being a kid.
This might be the only time I've ever thought this, or felt it, but I kind of wish I was born closer to you guys in age. There were a few times I remember you guys (Mike or Michelle) getting me from Joslin School and going over to the Middle School for a little while after school. Like when I took the French class while I was in like 2nd grade or something. It always felt...important.
I remember some teachers actually being "cool" and hanging out with kids after school, mentoring. By the time I hit middle school all those teachers had left, and were replaced by the beginnings of the fear of people taking advantage of young kids, grabbing them and putting them in white vans, and kids crying wolf.