If I ever had a time machine I would use it to travel back in time to eat at long defunct restaurants. I need to know if Pie in the Sky and the Rustler are as good as I remember. Once I had my fill, I suppose I would travel back to the 40s. I don't want to kill Hitler or do anything noble like that. I really just want to see the family dynamic that was going on in Sybil's childhood home. Accounts vary from my grandparents not speaking English to my grandfather being a local furrier/loan shark. The only thing I can confirm is that Sybil had three siblings, Evelyn, Bernice, and Allen. In good time I will discuss each of them but for now we can focus on Allen. Allen was the original pioneer of the family. He went west before it was cool, moving to Los Angeles in the 60's.
Years ago I remember coming to LA and going to dinner with Allen, Sybil, and Lewis. It was one of those token family meals where no one wanted to be there. All Allen wanted to do was reminisce about trips to the Catskills when Sybil and him were little. Sybil kept telling him to shut up, but Allen kept pressing how he wanted to talk about the fun times at the Colony Inn (I've looked it up and found nothing). When Sybil refused to engage about the Catskills, Allen started yelling at Sybil that she came to visit him thirty years ago during the summer and because of his job he couldn't spend any time with her and she shouldn't have come then. Sybil screamed back, "I worked it was the only time I had off." With that, dinner was over and we parted ways with Allen. No hugs were given. Allen did look at me and say, "Bye Bernie."
I later asked Sybil why she didn't want to skip down memory lane with her brother. At a volume too loud for the hotel lobby she responded with, "Allen was a horrible child. On one of those trips to the Catskills, he kicked me in the vagina and I had to go to the doctor; I was in so much pain."
Still can't believe he got my name wrong.
No comments:
Post a Comment