Show and Tell and the Ebola Outbreak

(continued from last time) Sunday night before the big day at the Saint Marks eight grade "Show and Tell" I pulled out a paper and began brainstorming.
  
There had to be something from the insane zoo we had at our house that I could bring that would impress the love of my life:   Alligator too dangerous (already wrestled with the hideous beast that crawled out of the primordial swap of evolution)The 12-year-old and the Alligator

Grandpa the giant frog - too management intensive, needs slimy-green, mosquito-laden water - yuck (gagging thinking about it).
 Grandpa the Mutant Bullfrog






Fat Pinky:  NO. No. No. NO! It's not right.  He would know why I brought him and would probably sit on me (my brothers tried to keep him in the house as much as possible)









The monkey was my best option - until I remembered how it liked to fondle itself, and in a moment of clarity, figured I couldn't subject the kids to that kind of graphic imagery involving boy parts.

Poochie the "The Wonder Dog" had been missing for 3 days and I was stuck! None of kids would be impressed by a brown beagle (even if I could find the missing companion) and none of our other animals were safe to go to a Catholic School. Iguana Del Diablo Escapes



I decided that I would try to get one of my 8 older hippie brothers to come with me to school tomorrow for Show and Tell.  The other kids had to love that..right?  Besides, I don't think any of them had ever seen a real hippie before...


Chewbacca was out of school and I thought maybe the other kids would like to see one "up close and personal," they could touch his hair and ask him questions about his eating and grooming habits.


YES! Brilliant...who would think of that! This would make me famous and Andrea would have to take notice of me for sure (as Chewbacca would say, "Like..it's all copacetic...man." He used "man" and "like" as if they were punctuation marks.)

I asked, Chewbacca if he would like to come to school with me and after he caught me held me down and tortured me to death by tickling - I had to tell the truth. I told him it was for Show and Tell. And when he forced me to explain that it was because he was a hippie he squeezed my forehead and gave me a "template." Chewbacca and the Template Torture

I woke up from my unconscious state with nothing on but my chonies - and freaked out when I discovered that he and Ulrich had taken off my clothes and covered my entire body in red spots with a indelible red marker.

This turned out to be a blessing in disguise - Now I had some communicable disease that would make it impossible for me to go to school - at least until after the Thanksgiving break!

I put my hand on a light bulb, faintly grabbed my mom's hand and barely managed to get out the name of my sickness - "chicken pox leprosy" and dramatically collapsed just after saying that I couldn't go to school in the morning.

She said, "You're Swedish...I don't want to hear your excuses! You're getting up and going to school in the morning"

This went from bad to very worst...I had no animal for Show and Tell... my body is covered in red spots from head to toe... AND mom is making me go to school! I THINK mom thought that I had painted myself like this and wanted me to suffer the consequences... UGGGHHHHHHhhhh!  She even quoted my eight grade teacher, Sister Schultz, "You shouldn't have put yourself in that position" double ugh!

That Monday morning I woke up early to take care of my "trash day" duties (because the lazy hippies sleep until noon) when the crazy monster from hell - the Veloci-Rooster, broke our agreement and attacked me on the way back from the alley to the house. Now I had five deep holes in my leg and was dripping with fresh blood. This was only getting better. I smeared the blood on my face and arms and tore off the leg of one of Ulrich's hand-me-down uniform pants. I looked like nothing you had ever seen before - A ZOMBIE. This was better than the "The Wolf Boy" 12 second preview of Wolf Boy 

I bandaged my head, picked up my old crutches from last year where I nearly died Markie's Death and pathetically hobbled to school with the fresh stream of blood running down from knee cap to sock- looking one of the "pagan-children" in an improvised country you gave money at church to sponsor.  I slowly passed by Sister Superior's office making sure to catch her attention... and I guessed it worked. She screamed, intercepted me, turned me around and said, "Where do you think you are going young man."

"To class" said I, in my best Tiny Tim impression..."despite this case of bleeding Ebola or fatal leprosy or whatever this is...." voice fading as though I could die at any minute - then pretended to try turn back as if I wanted to be in school.

"Over my dead body" she replied, emphatically planting her feet and hands firmly on hips - blocking my way taking a step back for fear of making physical contact with me... "Go home!" she demanded pointing out the door like I was a rabid dog.

"I can't. I need a note from my mother!" I said with puppy dog eyes as though I was always this obedient.

"Leave this instant and I'll talk to your mother!"


Thank you Chewbacca
Thank you Veloci-Rooster
Thank you Sister Superior

I got to skip school and didn't have to show up for the stupid Show and Tell... Hallelujah! Her expulsion saved me from embarrassment of being seen with red dots.

Maybe I still had a chance with Andrea.

Maybe I still had a chance to find out what this thing called love was all about.

Like the dude that was healed by Jesus in the gospels...I picked up my crutches and ran.

markie d: A Global Phenomenon! Our Dam Picture

Okay, I think what I'm going to have to do here, is go back on my plan to tell you about the scariest Halloween ever recorded in the History of the World. If I play my cards right...I think, I just might be able to post some VIDEO along with it, as a Super Duper Bonus... I'M WORKING ON IT NOW!

And, if I can delay that for just a bit and kick it down the road a couple weeks, then I can roll that story out for you closer to Halloween. 

So what story to tell... Hum?

Ah, I think I got one.  But, before I get into the crazy details of this next unbelievable true story - I must pause for a moment of reflection. I was approached last week by an Author who said... that all families have stories: one or two really great ones.. you know the type that are off the hook, unbelievable incidents that would either shock people - scare people or have others rolling on the floor laughing" He said, "but your family has story, after story, after story... that are truly amazing and totally unbelievable. There is nothing like this!"   

He said, "People need to hear these stories, because they are just too preposterous, far-fetched and incredible for any one family. One or two maybe...but nothing like this!"

And these stories are all true:  
                                  We did let the monkeys out of the Zoo.

                                  We did electrocute ourselves and unsuspecting neighbors.

                                   My brothers did electrify the sides of our dough-boy pool.

                                            They really did shock me and little sister in the pool.

                                            They REALLY did shock a Catholic Nun!

                                   They really did knock over the entire fence at Saint Mark's Grammar School

                                   We really did have all those rattlesnakes and reptiles and those...

                                              ...rattlesnakes really did escape...terrorizing the neighborhood.

                                   They really did trap me in a hamper and throw me under the neighbor's car.

                                   I was really left behind at Salton Sea that turned into a high-speed Highway

                                              Patrol chase... that really did end up in the local newspaper.

                                   My dad really did make me use Sugar-Water instead of gel on my hair.

                                   Our iguana really did escape and ran across the street into the Tripps house.

                                   We really did have an attack rooster for a watch dog. 

                                   We really did have an alligator.

                                   We really did live across the street from the Famous Lennon Sisters

The hair... the tomato plants...the mosquitoes... the leprosy...Sister Godzilla... the forts... the fire pole...the templates...the arrows...the albinos...street cleaning...the Helms Heist...Milk Wars...our UFO's...our broken bones and the hospital bed...IRENE and the impossible - implausible - fantastic fact that we were "pranked" by the PRESIDENT of the UNITED STATES - pshaw "Snapping Turtles!" 

 ALL of it is TRUE...and I'm just getting started!

And so, I thank you, for letting me share my story. 

For the 10,000 (plus and counting), from 43 different countries around the World - who have clicked on and joined me in my childhood adventures.

Thank you for making Markie D a global phenomenon.  

Sit down, buckle up, and hold on as we "Put the pedal to the metal" and head way back (this time to about 1962) to a family vacation that we took to the Kings River which turned into another Dahlin nightmare. 

This was not too long after the "Infamous Fence Incident" at Saint Marks School. That was the time, that my Viking tribe of brothers (affectionately known as the Wolf Pack) were either climbing in or climbing out of the school-yard. 

 

You see, my older brothers liked to climb...  it was a genetic thing... that began at birth.

 

 

Gustav said that one of the boys took it upon himself to climb right out of my mother's body three weeks before his due date! KaBoom, he popped right out on mom's birthday. "Surprise!" 

I was also told that the "Fence Incident" was allegedly after breaking into the church vestry and drinking the communion wine. On their escape, while climbing over that chain-link fence, it groaned under the weight of the entire Dahlin Wolf Pack, eventually collapsing on the brood, which took the entire Venice Fire Department and rescue team to unravel the boys from it tangled clutches. 

Puke-Breath (nick-named by my older brothers for wearing a retainer and always have bad breath), ended up having his leg broken in 8 different places!

                                     That is not a joke - neither was his breath. YUCK! 

Puke-Breath had to wear an full-leg cast and spend almost an entire year in bed. When he was finally given permission by the doctor to use crutches and hobble away from that rusty old hospital bed in our dining room, my dad planned the big celebratory trip to the Kings!

We packed up everything into our 1959 Volkswagen Van, tied down the over-sized paddle board on top, crammed every inch of that van with half-clad, platinum towheads and away we headed to the Pine Flats Dam, without even thinking that one of us might not make it back.  

 Here is our "Dam Picture!"

Escaped Convict from Leper Colony: pt 2

Last time, I just confessed to the whole World - the 3rd best-kept-secret in History.  The first best-kept-secret still is, Who really shot President Kennedy. The Second best-kept-secret is knowing the truth behind Area 51 and UFO's. And the third best-kept-secret (that is no longer a secret) is the fact that it was the Dahlins who brought the plague-infested, blood-sucking mosquitoes into the beautiful state of California.  We did it!  Based on my thorough investigation into the World Book Encyclopedia and personal observations, I'm pretty sure they followed my tribe and our sugar-water hair back to Venice where we bred them in our backyard pool!

Gherhing the Great, Tommy and I had just finished building a magnificent, elevated fort just three feet from the dark green waters of our squirming larvae pond. After interrogation, Mrs. Blaser decreed that Tommy could not join in the "inaugural sleep over event."

With great excitement, I placed my sleeping bag near the back door and was under the kitchen sink, looking around for batteries that I could put into my ancient flash light (which probably hadn't flickered in at least 10 years).  That is where I overheard two of my older brothers having a conversation about how to keep those pesky  mosquitoes away.  Puke-Breath (the older brother who wore a retainer and had bad breath all time) and Dooh-Dooh Pants (another older brother who was always cutting the cheese and stinking up the place) said that bananas acted like a true mosquito repellent. They talked about how they would mush them up - liquifying them and intended to put the sticky substance in a spray can where they would make a million dollars selling the product.  It all sounded very scientific to me, and besides they didn't see me in the kitchen - so it must have been the truth!

I kept quiet and waited for them to leave and Voilá...  Guess what I discovered on the counter next to the toaster?  If you guessed a Pigeon - named Johnny or a hairless cat - named Lazarus you would have been right. If you guess a zebra or giraffe, you guessed wrong!  And, if you hazarded to guess bananas - you were right! Just so happens, there were three disgusting bananas at my disposal.

"Ah-ha!" I thought...here are three shrivled-black bananas that are practically in a liquified state already! Well, Gherhing the Great was Irish or something like that and had freckles all over his body. If he got bit by our little mosquito pets, no one could probably tell! Me, on the other hand, I needed a way to keep mosquitoes off...(Hey, I thought "OFF" that would be a great name for the older boy's invention).

Sitting in a green chair, the demonic cat looked over my shoulder while Johnny the pigeon tried to land on my head as I mashed those bananas into a gooey-slim that rivaled my dad's sugar-water hair gel.

Knowing that Gherhing didn't need them as badly as I did, I smeared a thin layer on my arms, neck and face.
I'd have to admit, that it was really kind of mean for me not to tell Gherhing the Great about my secret mosquito repellent especially since our fort was so close to the primordial ooze we called a pool! 

The paste set up quickly and dried on my skin before Gherhing got back with his sleeping bag and the coveted Moon-Pies that he stole from his house. It was almost like I was covered in paper-mache and could barley bend at my joints. Every time I smiled, banana-plaster cracked off my face.

Even though I left a trail behind me like Hansel and Gretel...this would be THE BEST NIGHT EVER!

We made up ghost stories about the Creature from the Black Lagoon crawling out of the dark waters of our pool, grabbing us with his flippered-claws and carrying us back into the spooky depths of the murky waters.

Part of the problem with "grape-stake" fencing, is even in its best condition - it's all gnarled and twisted. Our fort had gaps that a Chachalaca could fly through. I wasn't too worried about the mosquitoes, however, because I had overheard my brother's secret invention and was totally covered. We could hear the relentless buzz of mosquitoes and spent the entire night swatted the bazillion buggers...Poor Gherhing!   Turns out that it was THE WORSE NIGHT EVER. It was one of those nights you prayed for daylight to put an end to the never-ending misery where minutes seem to stretch into hours. At five o'clock in the morning we had enough and retreated into the house and ended up sleeping on the living room floor.

At ten O'clock the next morning, we were awaken to the haunting sound of the Wolf-Pack.  We found ourselves surrounded by my older bothers who were pointing at us, laughing hysterically like frenzied  hyenas gathered around the carcass of a dead animal.

Knowing what I had done to poor Gherhing I felt sorry for my freckled little friend... UNTIL!
Until....I  pulled my arms out from my sleeping bag and SCREAMED at the horrible fright that was before me  Ten billion boils covered my arms! I reached up and touched my face and felt the wall to wall mosquito bites. "Ugggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"  I was Job from the Bible! I was Elephant man. I was the Hunchback of Notre Dame all rolled into one - I HAD LEPROSY!

"Unclean. Unclean." The Wolf Pack pointed at me and chanted hilariously. Gherhing didn't have a single bite!
What's worse, is that I was an "itcher" (I was a scratcher like that mange 'O cat). I scratched and clawed and bled and entered my first day of sixth grade in a stolen sweater as a scabby...pocked...plague-ridden leper.

To make things worse, Chewbacca took a black Marks-a-Lot marker and connected the dots making constellations all over my body. I looked like an 11-year-old escaped convict from a leper colony...and in Catholic school the kids petitioned Sister Superior that I wear a bell and announce my presence, whenever I was in ten feet of anyone.

I guess you know the moral of this story:

1) Don't believe everything your brothers tell you.                        
2) Bananas do not keep mosquitoes away.
3) If you wear boxing gloves to bed at night, they will keep you from scratching off all the scabs and help you defend yourself should the Wolf Pack attack.
4) Chlorine is good for pools... and
5)  "sticks and stones" may break my bones - which will certainly heal in time...but names can hurt a sixth grader.

Practice Kindness!

Oh, and Keith B, thanks for letting me "borrow" your sweater!

                                              

The Leprosy Episode of 1967 pt 1

In order for me to explain the traumatic "Leprosy Incident" of 1967, I have to take you back several years to one of our infamous, Dahlin cross-country trips. In that time in history - in the early sixties it seemed like everyone used gel on their hair to grease it down. It was cool. It is no secret, (that with as many kids as my parents had) that had my dad was always looking for ways of saving money. Who wouldn't, right? Sometimes he would stand on the back porch and ring his hands together nervously watching the dial-thing on the electrical meter spin fast and furious.  The poor guy would moan and groan as he visualized dollars flying away.

 "Turn off the Lights. Shut the doors. What's the matter with you...were you born in a barn?" He'd shout out desperately trying to slow down and consumption of electricity and capture some of those dollar bills that had wings and had taken flight.      "Can't anyone, ever turn off a light when they leave a room?"

Anyway, it was while staring at the spinning electrical meter that he came up with one of his brilliant ideas.  Now-a-days gas is like 30 cents a gallon, but back then it was about 25 cents a gallon and sugar was practically free. He invented hair gel by mixing sugar in a little bit of warm water - heck, who needed Brylcreem?



To the right is a picture of one of my brothers with his hair covered in Brylcreem...  or was it my dad's concoction of sugar water? 
       (isn't he cute ladies) 

It's just what we (as a culture) did...until The Beatles came along a couple years ago and changed everything.   So long greasy hair! 
  Hello "Mop Heads."   Hello long hair!

Anyway, since I was so much younger than the rest of the boys I wanted to make my dad feel good, so I stuck with the sugar-water...concoction all the way through 6th grade.

One day while I was digging through a couple layers of strata in one of the three rooms that collected junk in our house I came across a dusty old set of "World Book Encyclopedias."  The out side covers were red and beat up and looked to be a million years old.  For fun, I looked up California and was shocked to find that it said, California did not have mosquitoes. Well, I tell you right now, that if at one time...California didn't have mosquitoes - IT DOES NOW!   I think in 1963 those little blood-sucking pest discovered our sweet sugar-hair while we were back east and decided to followed us across country all the way back to Venice.  I was embarrassed to let anyone know that it was my family that was responsible for the illegal immigration of sap-sucking-yellow-bellied mosquitoes across the state line into the "Golden State"...which isn't so golden anymore - thanks to the Dahlins.  



To the left,  there I am (in the sixth grade) with my helmet head" -  hair plastered  with that mosquito-loving  potion of sugar-water.


 (speaking of cute?)



You might remember the pool that we had in our backyard..(you know, the one that the big boys used to shock O' Sister Godzilla (blog post 4/26/2013). Well, to be honest, sometimes it was pool and other times it was just a breeding ground for the mosquitoes that we were responsible for importing.   

Whenever Tommy wanted to come over and swim, his mom would interrogate him and ask, "What color is the pool, Tommy?" And if Tommy said it was green, then Mrs. Blaser forbade him from joining me and the mosquitoes larvae that were squirming in our breeding pond - that we still affectionately called a pool. 

Mrs. Blaser was convinced that Tommy would come home one day with malaria , and was told that if he ever lied, he would be grounded for, like - a hundred years!

It was the summer of 1967 and Mr. Blaser next door had just built a brand-spanking-new fence in their backyard. Their house looked like something right off the cover of Sunset Magazine... Ours, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. It was a junk yard which was a veritable paradise for 10 and 11 year-old-boys who liked to monkey around, create go-carts, use our imagination and build forts. A kid could build and do just about anything they wanted back there - it was awesome!

Gherhing the Great and I salvaged all the old "grape-stake" fencing that the Blasers had thrown away. We went through the alley and dragged in a ginormous pile of that old decrepit fencing, which we added to the vast collection of junk that had already been accumulating in my backyard. Tommy helped. I think his dad encouraged him to drag their trash into our backyard - seeing that I wanted it so badly.

It was definitely a win-win situation

It was two weeks before school and Gherhing the Great, Tommy and I had just finished building the second best fort in the entire world... Jimmy pooped in the first best fort in the whole world that we had to condemn it and fill in(blog post 7/26/2013). Last year's fort (the best in the world) was in a hole, but this one would be elevated above the ground!  Swiss Family Robinson  - you would have nothing on us.

Take a guess where we built it?  If you guessed right next to the pool-mosquito breeding pond, then you were right. Take a look at the picture of our pool again...(the one pictured above). Do you see the pole that is sticking up - just to the right of the stairs under that patio looking thing. Well, that's where we built our glorious fort that would rival the "Swiss Family Robinson" tree house. 

Using all that discarded and decorroded "grape-stake" us kids had built a thing of true beauty!

Now the test!     A sleep over...YEAH! Gherining the Great Tommy and myself.  

Only when the time came, Mrs. Blaser sat Tommy down in a dark room under a bright lamp and interrogated him about the color of the water. When Tommy described the color in three deep-shades of green that border-lined on blackish (like a scene from the Creature of the Black Lagoon), Mrs. Blaser forbade him Under Pain of Mortal Sin or worst - that he would be grounded for a thousand years. 


Turns out - that moms, know stuff! 


Gherhing and I packed up our sleeping bags, our flash lights, a couple Moon Pies and went out to spend the night in our amazing fort next to the THE BLACK LAGOON!

 Oh, I don't mean to get our family into any kind of trouble for bringing mosquitoes into the State of California, but I do think the Statute of Limitations has passed, should there be any type of Congressional Hearing over the matter.

Since we knew President Johnson (sort of), I guess you can say, he knew us - seeing us all naked and all, I wrote him a letter and begged for a Presidential pardon (Blog Post Snapping turtles)  "Oh Snap!"

Gherhing and I were afraid of the kind of monster that might crawl out of our pool that night, but we had no idea of the nightmare that awaited us.  TO BE CONTINUED!