Saturday, January 20, 2007

It Goes to Show You Never Can Tell

Here is a picture of my mom's family taken at my grandparents' house on the Southside of Chicago. I'm assuming it was late 1964. That Alfred Hichcocky looking baby is my brother and he was born in March of 1964. My mother was pregnant with me when this was taken.

It's weird to look at these old photos and see everyone looking so hopeful, but already knowing how it all panned out. Don't you wonder if they would have done anything differently had they known the way things would end up? I ask that about myself when I was younger too. If I had any idea, would I still have made the same choices? I've always been kind of a dumb-ass when it came to learning those harsher life lessons, so probably. I'd like to think I would've at least been smart enough to have worn a very sturdy helmet to protect myself from all the times I hit my head against the same brick wall.

10 comments:

Remiman said...

Churlita,
I'm convinced that knowing the future would be a disaster. Each decision we make today affects the future, so the future canstantly would change according to every choice we'd make. We would be paralyzed with indecision.
rel

Mr Atrocity said...

Perhaps you should just wear the helmet from now on, you know, just in case...

I am so glad I cannot see my own future; by believing that to a greater or lesser extent we can make our own destiny makes it that much easier to deal with the harder times.

Those who've had unremittingly awful lives would be well within their rights to point out that I could be talking a crock of shit of course.

akelly said...

funny - I can look at your photos and so quickly go oh theres ... and ... and that must be ... - its good that everyone was hopeful and happy and what could they have done about how things would pan out but be anxious and stressed. I think it is good people have any time in life that they are a bit happy and carefree.
Your mom is of course looking beautiful and I love the dress -

Margaret said...

people treat you differently when you go about in a crash helmut, sometimes they're nicer but mainly they just talk slowly

Churlita said...

Rel,

I think you're absolutley right. Too much power (to change the future) never seems to be a good thing.

Mr Atrocity,

Maybe I'm being overly optimistic here, but I think I might be over my "crash helmet necessity" stage now.

Now that I'm older and I understand that I can take action instead of letting stuff happen to me, things have been so much easier to deal with - good or bad.

AKelly,

I thought about listing the people in the photo and explaining what happened to each one, but I figured my readers would run away from my blog screaming after the first person.

I firmly believe that ignorance is bliss. I think those mom's from the fifties with their "Everything's fine" attitudes were on to something.

Margaret,

That's it. I'm wearing my crash helmet from now on. All I've ever wanted was for people to be nice and speak slowly to me.

Cover Your Mouth said...

What a great photo. And that baby totally does look like Alfred Hitchcock.

Churlita said...

Thanks. I love those mid-sixties pics. In all fairness to my brother, he no longer looks like Alfred Hitchcock.

broinlaw said...

"he no longer looks like Alfred Hitchcock."

Yeah. I'd say he looks more like Winston Churchill.
(Take that Uncle Porkchop!)

T.

broinlaw said...

I've always thought there was some kind of DaVinci Code/X-Files thing with that picture.
For example, notice who K. is holding onto (even today) ... or why does you mom appear to be ripping E.'s heart out...
(Oh, theres much, much more.)

T.

Churlita said...

Bro-in-law,

I forgot Sam called him Uncle Porkshop. That still cracks me up.

....And why is my mom carrying Bill that way? He looks so uncomfortable.