THE BIRTHDAY CLUB

Women belong to all sorts of clubs:

Literary * Creative Writing *
Garden * Science *

Pinochle & Bridge *

Hiking * Sports *

Singing * Arts & Crafts * Lapidary * Photography *

Computer * Astronomy * Dance * Acting *

Social * Country *

Red Hatters * Daughters of Utah Pioneers

Relief Society used to be a club.

We received a membership card

when we paid a fee of 50 cents per year.

We have been going to the gym for over 25 years;

I belonged to the Kaysville Literary Art Guild for several years

but for the most part, I’m not a joiner.

I don’t fit in.

 I now belong to one itty-bitty club.

We meet four times a year and go out to lunch on our birthdays.

TA-DAH!!!!

The Birthday Club

Jeanette, Verda, Verla, Carol (Verda & Verla were cheerleaders together in high school.  Before that they were flower girls at my wedding.)

 three sisters and a cousin

with two daughters-in-training.

We catch up on all the news of home

(that’s when our daughters go to sleep)

and family;

current events; politics, religion.

We don’t laugh as much as we used to;

but it’s warm, joyful, and endearing.

DeRay's parents, my mother, Dick, DeRay, Jeanette, Carol-Maid of Honor, Donna, Marilyn, Dolly, Georgia, Lenore; Verla, Verda

Verla & Verda.  1956

Ed's Annual Birthday Trek

Ordinarily, DeRay & Ed fly somewhere for his birthday.  This year they broke tradition and drove to Las Vegas so I tagged along.

“I can’t believe we’re going to spend a week in this dump,” I thought to myself when we stopped for natural gas as we entered Vegas.  Of course, the natural gas stations are always in the seedy part of town and this is a flat dry desert.

What to my wondering eyes should appear as we settled into our nice condo. .

Guess?

Something we don’t have in Utah yet since it’s still snowing and very cold. . .

Something magical and wondrous . . .

Something that brings promise and hope; renewal. . .

Something that has a divine sweet scent. . .

YES!

  

Does it take your breath away?  My spirit soared. 

I know when I pull these curtains we’ll see the ocean.  It feels like the condo in San Diego with the ocean lapping at our sliding door.

“Wow, look at those waves.  The surfers are out early.”

Oops.

 This is our view.  No more.

On Saturday, our first full day, we had a big gigantic fight with Ed to get him in the pool because he thought the water was cold.  Last night I put my toe in it and remarked that it felt cold.  Me and my big mouth.  There was no changing Ed’s mindset.  Is it worth it?

The next day, a totally different story:  “I can’t wait to go swimming.  I sure enjoyed it yesterday.”

Oh Ed.  You slay me. 

Ed gave me a big kiss on the cheek.  “I’ll have a kiss,” his dad teases.

“You’re a man,” Ed reminds him, “----and I’m a man.” 

Well, that settles that.

Ed gave his bedroom to Aunt Clare.  Our bed is gigantic; we decide the three of us can all sleep in it.  DeRay insists he sleep in the middle; Ed was by the bathroom and I was by the window.  In the middle of the night, DeRay gets claustrophobic.

Next night I sleep on the hide-a-bed and never have a backache again.  I found my niche. 

One morning I solicited Ed to help me make his and Dad’s bed.  “I don’t know why I’m helping you, Mom,” he gripes, “I’m already paranoid.”

“Excuse me, I’m helping you.  I didn’t sleep here.”

“You did the first two nights or three.”

My first task of the morning

After stretching and yoga

Is gathering the jugs

And heading to the village well

For water.

Sweet scents of blossoms

Fill my nostrils

Along the path

I feel connected to my primal ancestors

As I routinely perform this ancient ritual

Even though it isn’t really a well or river

Only a filtered fountain in the weight room.

View of the bridge from the dam

View of the dam from the bridge

I know what color my hair is going to be next!

  We bought all-day passes for the monorail, nibbled McDonald $1 burgers while watching airplanes land, spent a day at the Dam and the bridge; enjoyed immensely Popovich and the Vegas Variety Show; gorged on the Union Station buffet; snuggled down to watch a movie every night even though some of us slept through it.

Ed, DeRay, Jeanette, Clare

 I can’t believe we had so much fun in this dump.

Manifestations

Lucy Temerlin

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

.

Lucy Temerlin (1964–1987) was a chimpanzee owned by the Institute for Primate Studies in Oklahoma, and raised by Maurice K. Temerllin, Ph.D,  a psychotherapist and professor at the University of Oklahoma and his wife, Jane W. Temerlin.

Background

Temerlin and his wife raised Lucy as if she were a human child, teaching her to eat with silverware, dress herself, flip through magazines, and sit in a chair at the dinner table. She was taught American Sign Language by primatologist Roger Fouts as part of an ape language project and eventually learned 140 signs. She appeared in Life magazine, where she became famous for drinking straight gin, rearing a cat, and using Playgirl and a vacuum cleaner for sexual gratification. Around that time, the Temerlins introduced her for the first time to a male chimpanzee, and she was frightened and did not relate to him, let alone find him attractive. Fouts has written that when he arrived at Lucy's home at 8:30 every morning, Lucy would greet him with a hug, take the kettle, fill it with water, find two cups and tea bags, and serve the tea.

By the time she was 12, Lucy had become very strong and was very destructive in the Temerlin house.  She would tear the living room to sheds in minutes.  They actually had to cage her.  Eventually, she was shipped to a chimpanzee rehabilitation center in Gambia, accompanied by University of Oklahoma psychology graduate student Janis Carter.  For years, Lucy was unable to relate to the other chimps in the rehabilitation center, and never reproduced, displaying sexual attraction only to humans.  Lucy showed many signs of depression, including refusal to eat, and expressed "hurt" via sign language. Though her adopted Temerlin parents stayed with Lucy for only a few weeks in Gambia, Janis Carter remained at the Center for years, devoting much of her life to helping Lucy assimilate to life in the wild.  (She had planned to only stay three weeks.)

Several years after leaving Lucy, Carter returned with some of Lucy's belongings. Lucy and a group of chimps greeted her, and Lucy embraced her, and then left with the other chimps without turning back, which Carter interpreted as Lucy having assimilated to life as a chimpanzee. One year after that, Carter returned and found Lucy's skeleton with hands missing and head separated from the rest of the body, and no sign of skin or hair, from which Carter concluded that Lucy had been poached.  However, others who were intimately involved in Lucy's rehabilitation question this possibility, because the skeleton, in its advanced state of decomposition, could not provide evidence of poaching over some other cause of death.

Public radio appearances

In early 2010, Lucy's life-story was the subject of a 1-hour Radiolab episode, "Radiolab Show 702 - Lucy".  Excerpts of this show were also included in the February 19, 2010, episode of This American Life, Episode 401, "Parent Trap". Both stories focus on Lucy's lifelong emotional stress.

Sign language

Lucy was observed lying - something that was once considered uniquely human, because it is evidence of a sense of self. In this sign-language conversation, Fouts asks Lucy about a pile of chimpanzee feces on the floor:

Fouts: WHAT THAT?
Lucy: WHAT THAT?
Fouts: YOU KNOW. WHAT THAT?
Lucy: DIRTY DIRTY.
Fouts: WHOSE DIRTY DIRTY?
Lucy: SUE (a reference to Sue Savage-Rumbaugh, a graduate student of Fouts).
Fouts: IT NOT SUE. WHOSE THAT?
Lucy: ROGER!
Fouts: NO! NOT MINE. WHOSE?
Lucy: LUCY DIRTY DIRTY. SORRY LUCY.

After I listened to this podcast, I couldn’t help but wonder if adopting a child isn’t a bit similar to the experiences the Temerlins had with Lucy, the chimpanzee.  At first, she picked up their traits, including language, customs, and mannerisms; maybe even beliefs; charming their family life.  As she got older, more of her hereditary instincts manifest and she did not fit in at all. 

An adopted child is human so, of course, the differences would be subtle but emotionally and psychologically the barriers may be distinct and profound.  I am just wondering how much we need to beat ourselves up on both sides.  I wish I could understand the ramifications better.