The Shocking Discovery of 1968

 











We were back in 1968 before I began sharing flashbacks to the disastrous Kings River near-murder rescue in 1962 (Blog post 10/8/2013)...








...and the 1963 "Fire Ant" episode in Detroit with the naked teenager and a bunch of too helpful and too giddy nuns (blog post 10/26/2013)...







....and the Halloween video
where I tell the story of John The Baptist and his Identity Crisis i.e Wolf-Boy (blog post 10/28/2013) in front of a live audience,










It was October 1968 and I was in 7th grade (wearing Keith Bjelajac's sweater, my mom brought home from the lost and found - how embarrassing! But I had a sweater to wear for picture day, so I was happy with my Dad's sugar-water concoction that held my hair firmly in place.)   


Reminding you again where we had been:




This past summer while on our way across country to visit relatives, I had already described the unbelievable incident where the President of the United States, Lyndon B. Johnson, detoured his Presidential motorcade under an overpass and orchestrated what could the funniest thing an American President has ever done in the history of this country. Stepping away from his secret service protection he pulled a prank of epic proportions by warning me and my big brothers about the hungry snapping turtles in the dirty river we were presently skinny dipping in(blog post 9/14/2013).
 
Anyway, on the way home on this trip we had visited Mount Rushmore, Reptile Gardens and the famous Wall Drug Store of South Dakota.

It was there that my hippy brothers bought a Wall Drug sign to hang on the ivy in the far reaches of our Venice backyard to designate the hippy man-cave.

Again the year was 1968, and it wouldn't take rocket science or a huge stretch of the imagination to figure out what was happening when the hippies convened in the dark hollow of the ivy grotto behind the infamous pool of electrocutions. 

By this time, the above-ground pool was far too green for chlorine redemption so the liner was torn out and the 4-foot-metal-sided enclosure was now the boarder for our new reptile habitat and Amazon rain forest pond - complete with cayman (caiman) alligator!

Lucky me... when I discovered the the sharped-toothed crocodile, while the habitat was under construction.

Okay... so it really wasn't lucky me when I discovered the big secret the older boys were keeping hidden from my parents.

Tune in next time for the this shocking discovery... along with the "Mexican Tomato Plants" and the mutant giant Veloci-Rooster imported from hades.

oh and JUST FOR FUN...

Can you guess where I discovered the temporary accommodations of this prehistoric crocodile? 

Please post your guess in the comments below! Let's see who can get close to guessing - not just where I accidentally encountered the ferocious beast, but also take a stab at describing the circumstances of this frightening discovery - and remember this is a "Dahlin event" so please feel free to use your imagination.  
 
until next time...  vet att du är älskad!

and remember "Never insult an alligator until after you have crossed the river"
                                                                                                      Cordell Hull 

 

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!"

Please don't read this... Mrs. Simpson and the PEE-PEE incident!

In my Blog, I’m still talking about my first week in fifth grade where I ended up in Sr. Godzilla’s class. She did not fail to live up to the terror her Saint Marks’ grammar school nickname invoked. 

So far (if you have tuned in and read some of my stories) you realize that our family was just NOT normal.   

We lived in what many would consider a GOOD CATHOLIC neighborhood and felt that between the Dahlins and the four other Lennon families nearby - our wonderful and obedient parents did everything they could to fulfill the Dominion Mandate of Genesis chapter 1 “Multiply and fill the earth.”  Between those five homes (alone) we had something like 53 kids and could have populated a small city all by ourselves (Wait...we did have a small city all by ourselves).

My mom had a baby a year and the Lennon Family (on the corner) are in Ripley’s Believe It or Not for having 11 kids (all of whom are born in different months – statistically, that’s an anomaly).

The only problem with the Dominion Mandate in Genesis Chapter 1…( besides the command to have lots of babies) is also the command by God to “Subdue and Rule over the world.”  That was probably a good idea at one time, but then after sin entered the world that’s where everything went wrong and Vikings were invented to pillage, plunder and terrorized the civilized world i.e. "to take dominion"

While the Lennons were obediently having children and appearing on TV every Saturday night on the Lawrence Welk show, my older brothers were busy wreaking havoc - also obediently keeping the command to subdue and rule i.e "to dominate" our little corner of the world.

Being something like 7^th or 8^th or whatever number I was in birth order (the last male child), I imagine that I was left to change my own diapers and feed myself from scraps that were either thrown to me in the corner or food that had fallen off the table.

I was like Mowgli, the lost child, being raised in the jungle. Our house was literally a jungle not only with kids and strangers who lived with us… but also the four legged creatures, reptiles, and birds that we brought home. Just look at that picture above... there I am in diapers holding a piece of 2 day old toast that I probably found on the ground...yum... yum!

I don’t blame my parents one bit for checking out, but that might be one reason it allowed the Wolf-Pack to reigned holy terror at Saint Marks (as well as in our neighborhood).  This might also explain the reason why the nuns at Saint Marks School felt they had to take out revenge on me.  By the time I came along, those poor nuns had enough of the Dahlin infestation that plagued the school for at least the last ten years.

Back then I didn’t know why I felt hated even on the first day of every grade I moved up to, but have since figured that out (at least that’s a hypothesis I’m floating as a theory), which leads me to the embarrassing story that happened in the third grade at the hands of Mrs. Simpson. 

The Lennons: The best Catholic Family in the history of the world.(see Blog Post of 4-28-2013: The Best Catholics in the World ).

The Dahlins: Well, let's allow this picture to speak for itself.

If you have had a chance to follow this blog, then you're well aware that my poor parents checked out and let my brothers (the inmates of the Dahlin house) run the asylum… By this time, our family had let the monkeys out of the zoo, reeled in the old grouch next door in a horrible prank, left me behind at Salton Sea that ended in a highway patrol chase… and the Wolf pack lured me into a death chamber that used to be a diaper pail  for an extreme "twofer." It doesn’t take a rocket scientist, to see that our family was unique, creative, diabolical and totally in touch with our inner-Viking (that followed God's command to subdue, take dominion and rule the world). 

A year after the JFK assassination when the cold war with Russia was at its zenith, Miss Sims – turned Mrs. Simpson was the substitute teacher in my third grade class.  She was going to give a test! I had to go pee and should have gone when we came in from recess. I didn’t and needed to go real bad...REAL BAD!

The mean substitute, Mrs. Simpson stood on top of Sister Shawn’s desk and declared that the floor  was like water and swarmed with angry and hungry alligators that loved to eat Third Graders… especially blonde-haired boys!

Since I learned to live in my imagination as a way of escape… I actually saw the alligators swimming around my feet and snapping their sharp teeth at my Keds sneakers. Dramatically, Mrs. Simpson barked out shrill warnings as to the demands of her test requirements.

There was to be absolutely no talking, “What-so-ever!”

There was to be no cheating, “What-so-ever!”

AND nobody – not one person could, at any time during the test, -could  never, at any time, -ever-ever raise their hand “For any reason, what-so ever!”

Look  up gullible in the dictionary and this is what you will find.  Gullible [ˈgʌləb^əl]  adj Markie D i.e Easily deceived or duped.

I looked around to see if any of the other normal kids saw the ferocious alligators.  I was terrified, BUT HAD to go pee-pee really, really bad. However, Mrs. Simpson (the Sub, the one in authority) said that if I raised my hand for any reason the alligators would eat me. I was afraid and spent the entire time of the class set aside for the test contemplating as to whether her hungry alligators would eat a kid who raised their hand - if that particular kid just wanted permission to use the restroom!

Everyone was busy taking the test… I was busy watching for alligators and trying to hold back my bloated and pressurized bladder.  
      10 minutes of torture – not one answer put down on the test. 
      20 minutes of torture – not one answer put down.

I was holding my popo...and doing the pee-pee dance in my seat.  Feet wiggling, behind squirming, hand pinching! I sat for 30 minutes of torture – still contemplating whether a kid could raise their hand in order to go to the bathroom or if that meant it would upset her hungry alligators. 

40 minutes of torture and I just couldn’t take it anymore.  I eased up (just a bit -on the grip on my fire hose) and decided to relieve some of the pressure.

Pssst...Psst... went small amounts of warm yellow fluid that ran down my leg. UGHhhhhhhh! That didn’t make my bladder any happier – NO! Instead, it made matters worst and hurt even more.  Bad decision!

By the time a kid got to third grade – no kid in the history of world ever PEE’D their pants - No…that was something for Kindergarteners. Without one answer on my test I was feeling helpless and stupid like a 5 year-old.

Pssst-Pssst – went more of the yellow liquid.  “Leak over the starboard side captain!”  I shouted in my head! 

I couldn’t hold anything back anymore and let it all go!  I managed to do a controlled sinking and let everything do down the right leg and into my right shoe.

There I sat in a giant puddle of yellow pee… and luckily for me, no one noticed....so far! 

Could I get out of this alive or would Michael Boyle point it out to everyone.  Someone had to smell the sea of urine that flooded the entire area around my desk – but at least I didn’t raise my hand…I won!

Sure, I would get another F on a test, but at least I might have beat Mrs. Simpson and her third-grade-eating-alligators.

Only problem now was: could I escape this mess undetected? I decided to run home for lunch and change pants hoping that Ronnie or Pat or Rick Arredondo wouldn't spot the yellow ocean I left behind and call me out in front of everyone.

The test was over and I discretely tried to pretend that nothing had happened…I tried not to draw attention to the man on the grassy knoll… and that there was no CIA conspiracy in this episode of Markie D and the embarrassing incident of the third grade PEE-PEE.

Clop… slosh, clop…slosh, clop…slosh, went one dry Keds and the other sloshing wet shoe filled with pee-pee that left a trail down the long narrow hallway. 

I was almost all the way to the front door when a second grader slipped in my oil-spill and slid into a group of first graders like a bowling ball that knocked down a bunch bowling pins. The incident triggered an investigation to see where the spill took place… I ran home, hid my pants, checked under my bed for the rattlesnake that went missing yesterday, hid in my room and never came back that day.  

This will go down as the day that Markie D beat Mrs. Simpson and her alligators. I WON! 

If you've read this blog post share it with a friend, but please don't tell Marilyn or Theresa or Andrea...or any of my grammar school friends - because it is still embarrassing! 

Until next time...  

Flaxing Waxing Shining Gleaming HAIR!

Stick around - because below is a treat....

The hardest part for me at this point is not coming up with a story to tell about my incredibly bizarre  childhood and crazy family. Trust me it is not for lack of stories. No! The problem is deciding on what story to tell next.

So far you know that we were a little bit different...okay - so that was a lie! We were very different!

We were the only family on the planet to let all the monkeys out of the Zoo. While normal people went to the Holiday Inn where kids stayed for free - we, however, spewed out on the dirt on the shores of the sulfur smelling Salton Sea and covered ourselves in a salty-volcanic mud concoction where everyone stays for free...all 17 of us. And because of our practice of illegally smuggling bodies in a trailer, I was almost a causality of the "childhood abandonment campaign" if not for the high-speed, Highway Patrol chase that forced my family come back for me.

Trust me, between "The Hamper" "The Poop in the Fort" "The Electrocution in the Pool" "The Veloci-Rooster" "Miss Simpson and the Alligators" "Kurt and the Rapids of Death" Chewbacca and the Templates" "President Johnson and Snapping Turtles" all the broken bones and near death accidents, I have plenty of stories to keep you in stitches and to give you some things to think about.

The British Invasion was in full swing... as the Beatles arrived on our shores from across the pond... so for now I want to offer a fun tribute to hair as we went from creepy little kids with blonde hair to creepy hippies with lots and lots of blonde hair.

Stick around for the next installment, I think I'll have to share the unbelievable story of "The Hamper of DEATH" with you! It's bound to be one wild and unbelievable ride .

Until next time, jag alskar du