The Lennons and THE NAKED TRUTH!

                                    Which thou must (though it grieve thee) grant
                                                     I trumped never a man.
                                             But truely told the naked trueth,
                                                  To men that meld with mee,
                                              For neither rigour, nor for rueth,
                                                       But onely loath to lie.
                                                            [Alexander Montgomerie's "The Cherry and the Slae" 1585]

I think it is time to set the record straight.  This blog is a FORUM for me to share all the unbelievable stories that took place while I was growing up in the 60's and 70's in Venice California. Every single story is based on true events and the conflation of stories that have been pressed down...ground up and as if spit out by a blender in a imaginative mixture. 

SERIOUSLY: I ACTUALLY DON'T KNOW IF THERE IS ANOTHER FAMILY ANYWHERE  - THAT HAS HAD A SHARE OF FANTASTIC, INCREDIBLY AND BIZARRE STORIES AS...

THE DAHLINS! 

My family's stories are TRULY like something out of the Twilight Zone and uniquely centered in the tumultuous 60's - when the world seemed to be changing.  My goal is to have fun, make you laugh and to get you to think about the brotherhood of humankind!  It is an outlandish claim for me to begin with the premise that we were the "World's most dysfunctional family."  Certainly we weren't...but we certainly weren't your average family by any stretch of the imagination.

In order for me to highlight how bizarre we were in this imaginative romp, I set the stage by using the contrast between our family and the famous Lennons who lived two houses over - across the street.

Most everything I said was true...they did have a nice, clean, and orderly home. They did have a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary in their large picture window in front. We did have cars and boats and motorcycles and car parts and junk and magazines... and our house really did lean a little to the left! The Lennon Sisters did appear on TV every Saturday night and I think (next to my mom) I was one of their biggest fans. I really did consider them to be the picture of every good and right in the world. 

The Lennon Family were really quite reclusive...but that was only to be expected! I have one teenage daughter and would do everything in my power to protect her. Mr. Lennon had 6 beautiful daughters and did what he felt he had to do to protect them: they had autograph hounds... fans... and crazies that drove down our street trying to catch a glimpse, take pictures and sought autographs. I only pressed in on those differences to highlight how out of control we were in contrast - it enhances our story. BUT, my confession is that those comparisons or contrast were indeed a bit unfair.

I showed the famous Lennon Sisters then I showed us...

Them

 Us

 
I showed them sitting around in their living room together - in the goodness of a very functional family and then I showed pictures of us... (later in years) in all the glory of our hippy-ness. But in truth, the Lennons began to wander off the reservation (and truth be told) at just about the same time we were growing long hair the Lennon boys were becoming hippies as well (I just don't have any pictures of that).

Them

Us

In my broad brush strokes of artistic license... it made us look brilliantly and brutishly VIKING-esque... with all of our crazy antics of shooting each other and horrible pranks over and against the sanity of their house which may have inadvertently put them (or cast them in a bad light) as mam-bee-pambee's.  I want the world to know that nothing is further from the truth.











SETTING THE RECORD STRAIGHT! 







 
I respect and admire the Lennons for a plethora of reasons:

 1) They are all extremely generous and kind (that is my experience).
                    The Lennon Sisters sang at my dad's funeral.
                    Kippy and the Venice band played at my wedding.
                    Marky Lennon (a cousin, also in Venice) sang at my mom's Funeral
                    The Lennon Sisters invited me and my Water Polo team backstage in Las Vegas
                    They also invited my mom, me and my little sister to the taping of their Christmas Special.

2) Another thing is the sense of deep and meaningful family relationships they nurtured.
                   To this day they still get together for traditions that they fostered years ago.
                   They (very much) still seem to enjoy each others company ( I admire that).

3) Friendship. I paddled outrigger canoes and hung around with Joey in high-school( we were undefeated state champs several years running) and as a founding member of the "Ice Brothers" consider him a good friend to this day. 

4) Smiles. Mimi and DeeDee always had contagious smiles. 

5) Hard working and disciplined (this is something I think they learned from their dad - he was a "man's man)... dreamers of dreams and willing to work hard to make them come true. 

6) Forgiving. Billy should have punched me back in the face...when I blindsided him...but never sought revenge. a) sorry Billy b) Thank you for not beating me up.

7) Strength! Kippy has modeled to me the strength and courage of perseverance. As the youngest boy in the Lennon clan he never gave up on his dream and attacked it with the ferociousness of a pit bull. Today, he and his band travel around the world - despite what-ever setback and obstacle they had to hurdle in order to overcome.

8) My wife! Somehow, I was introduced to my wife through the Lennon-Gass connection! To which I owe a great debt.  Thank you... Dick and DeeDee, Debi...Marilee and Mrs. Gass (and anyone else who conspired in that).  

I love the Lennons and am perhaps one of their greatest fans... and apologize if I paint them in too good a light...and also for my comparisons, which I'd have to admit were intentionally unfair (I'm sure they had their share of dysfunction as well). 

As for the Dahlins...even though we did let the monkeys out of the zoo...have the police department over at our house every couple days...had an attack rooster - instead of a watch dog... grow "Mexican tomato plants"... shoot each other with needle-tipped homemade arrows... have cages full of reptiles and rattlesnakes that kept escaping... an alligator in our backyard pond... electrocute ourselves and one of the nuns from Saint Marks... vacation at the God-forsaken Salton Sea... have a hospital bed in our dining room and have an notorious encounter with the President of the United States. Though I did blow myself up... get shoved in the hamper of death and get left behind at Salton Sea...  I don't think I would had traded my childhood with anyone else... even if tempted by a bite of Sis Lennon's famous chocolate cake.


As for me... I'm just waiting for my next adrenaline fix...and can't wait to see what ambush lies just ahead.

I am convinced that we live in a hard world that is full of ups and downs... success and discouragement...hardships and hurts and  tell people, "It is better to laugh than to cry"

I think laughing at ourselves gives us power over the things that can have power over us...

My advice: "Don't take yourself too seriously.... and if you think I'm weird, at least I have an excuse!"
   
      

Part 5 The TRAGIC TALE: Twilight Saga of Biblical Proportions

Did you ever have a life defining moment when things just didn't seem to go your way.  When searing pain and bitter disappointment seemed to build a nest in your heart. Those times when you feel let down or stabbed in the back by someone close whether a parent, a spouse, a brother, a sister, or a best friend. Why do those wounds seem to be the worst, as if a dagger had been plunged into your heart and irreparably ripped open. Why do these particular wounds feel like it may take forever to heal? I think the reason things like betrayal, abandonment and wounds (especially from those close to us) hurt so bad is because we were created for close connections. We were designed and wired for close intimate relationships and have this expectation that love will protect and that love is forever. What a crushing blow to discover that as humans we are fickle and committed more to the protection of self at any cost, than the tremendous cost that true love demands... 

Since we live in this tension of constantly being let down, I guess as humans, we have to figure out how to cope with disappointments and where to turn for healing for these lingering wounds... Perhaps this is why some of the deepest scares are those bore by children, because their emotional capacity is not yet developed to handle abuse, cruelty and exploitation at the hands of those they placed so much trust.

Yep, kids are especially fragile.

It was hot and dry at Salton Sea, but an invisible tornado of emotional destruction was headed towards the Marina as the Dahlins prepared to depart their 4 inglorious days of camping. The boys were fighting for places in the car, Mrs. D was yelling, "Under pain of mortal sin" beckoning all those that couldn't squeeze into the Dodge to join her and the girls to experience another three hours of "Shake 'N Bake" in the dreaded  trailer. Meanwhile, Dooh-Dooh Pants was intentionally passing gas as a means of terrorism that instigated a fight among the Wolf Pack as hot sweaty bodies pressed up against windows in the over-packed station wagon.

Meanwhile, Markie D happily bounded out the Diner with his red Popsicle. The four ounces of liquid and sugar would probably help him survive the terrible ride home bouncing around in the the hot trailer among the junk and gas fumes.

With both eyes focused on his ice-cold Popsicle, Markie D reached up and grabbed the handle of the trailer (that he was forced to ride in by his older brothers).

NOTHING! He grabbed nothing, but a fist full of air. The trailer had vanished! Bam, just as if it had been sucked into the tractor beam of an alien spaceship.  In panic he looked up into the troposphere, but could not see a UFO!
(Now back to first person) 

It was happening...I was begin erased. I looked up and saw the caravan of bodies stuffed in the old Dodge and trailer pulling out of the parking lot. THEY HAD LEFT ME BEHIND! Was this a cruel trick? Did they plan this? Was it a conspiracy to get rid of me? Why did mom let them leave without me?

DIDN'T ANYONE CARE? Was I just refuge like the dirt washed off all those dirty bodies to run waste in the gutter. Not a single lick of my red Popsicle, I ran up the slight incline of the marina onto the two lane highway after my family. They were moving slow, I thought I could catch 'em. I ran as fast as the legs of a 9-year-old could run, but the lights on the back of that trailer got smaller and smaller and smaller. I stood and watched.

This was before the era of 911 and cell phones. I was left to die in the desert. I stood on that hot asphalt and stared at the fading tail lights of my departing family until they had completely disappeared. My world was small and I knew I lived in Venice, but nothing more than that. I was lost, alone and abandoned.

I couldn't take one lick of my red Popsicle as I sadly shuffled back to the staging area - at the curb outside the Diner. I sat on the curb and sorely missed my family - sure that I would never see them again. I wondered if this is what Joseph (in the Bible) felt like when his older brothers and sold him into slavery and left him stranded in the desert. I was sure someone would steal me and I would be held prisoner to a wondering band of Salton-Sea-ites.

I sat on the curb as the melting red dye dripped down my arm and pooled into a puddle of red and dirt next to my feet.  I sat. I sat holding my red stick as though it was the last remaining remnant of my family. I would not let go of my little red Popsicle stick.

I knew one prayer, "The Our Father" but was too choked up to squeese one syllable out of my parched dry lips. I cried and sat as TWILIGHT turned to horrid dusk!  Me and my Popsicle stick and my puddle of red mud that had dripped from my elbow. This was probably the most pathetic sight recorded in the history of the universe. An blonde haired aborigine with one clean red streak that ran from my tight fist of my right hand to tip of my elbow. My heart felt like it was begin squeezed in a vice as I felt my existence fade.

LEFT!
        ALONE!
                  ABANDONED!
                                     FORGOTTEN!

 I wanted to go back to the crazy, dysfunctional, wonderful family that had let all the monkeys out of the zoo.

I sat and cried until I had no more moisture left in my body to produce any more tears... "drenched to the bone." The hardest part, I guess, was that nobody noticed!

 

"The times they are, a changing" 

At least for me they were. 

I reckon that the universal question that we all have to wrap our minds around at some point in our lives is: Why do bad things happen to good people?