Thursday 13 June 2019

GO AHEAD, CALLER - MAKE MY DAY...


Copyright relevant owner

Here's a tale I alluded to quite some time back, saying that one day I'd eventually get around to telling it.  Well, that day is finally upon us.  I should probably keep it to myself, but what the hell - it'll fill some space and hopefully amuse you.  First of all though, it behoves me to give you a little background detail so that you more fully understand the event I'm about to relate.

My father's family were from the East End of Glasgow and my mother's family were from a then-posh (relatively-speaking) area of Rutherglen.  As the hybrid offspring of two different 'classes', it seemed to me that my brother and myself were considered socially inferior by my mother's relations, and the objects of inverted snobbery by my father's clan.  Less so my brother, due to his ingratiating nature and being more socially adept than I, and, later, being a mechanic and therefore a tradesman whose good side was worth cultivating in the event of car breakdowns.

My interests in toys, comics, and doodling didn't lend themselves to being so readily exploited however, and thus cast me in the 'less useful to know' category.  Add to that the events recounted here and it seems obvious why my father's immediate family regarded me with a certain amount of antipathy, whereas my mother's relatives were largely indifferent to me.  Their attitude probably wasn't helped my my father's tendency to tell everyone that when I was born the hospital had "thrown the wrong bit away" (a joke I assume, but who knows?), and it was always obvious to me from an early age that my brother - the firstborn - was the favoured son.

What makes me think that?  He always had more money spent on him when we were young, and most of my clothes were his hand-me-downs.  Also, in my teens, I once found in a cupboard at least half-a-dozen copies (maybe more) of the Rutherglen Reformer containing his birth notice, but none containing mine.  When I enquired of my mother about it, a couple of days later she produced a scrap of paper containing the announcement of my birth.  No multiple complete copies preserved for posterity in my case, only a scrap torn from the newspaper as though it had been an afterthought.

Anyway, in the fullness of time I achieved modest success as a comics calligrapher, and one day decided to invest in an answering machine as my parents often forgot to pass on messages and had difficulty understanding the English accents of editors at IPC and Marvel 'phoning me about work.  I later got a pal who did a pretty passable imitation of Clint Eastwood to say something like "This is Inspector Harry Callahan... leave a message after the beep.  Go on, make my day!"  I didn't think this would be considered at all odd, as comedy answer-tapes were all the rage at the time, and it lent an element of humour to leaving a message.

However, whereas younger people readily participated in the procedure, older folk tended to regard such things as "vulgar" (one insurance agent even left a message saying so), and my father's siblings, who were never the sharpest tools in the box anyway, took umbrage at its installation as if it was an affront to all that was normal or decent - emphasis on normal.  The volume was always left up so that my parents could hear when a call was for them, and calls for me were recorded when I was unavailable.  On the latter occasions my folks no doubt listened intently, trying (and failing) to decipher the 'exotic, alien' tones emanating from the speaker.

Eventually, I took over the number for myself and my parents got another one, resulting in us having separate telephones, but before that happened, two of my father's sisters (my aunts) 'phoned one day to speak to my mother.  I happened to hear the message later and they were scathing about me, saying that I needed "looked up" for having someone called "Inspector Kelly" (yeah, their hearing obviously wasn't very sharp either) answer their call.  "Tell Inspector Kelly that this is the Pink Panther!" said one in a voice loaded with contempt and sarcasm, and when my mother answered (having recognized the voice), they cast doubts on my sanity to her 'til they were good and through.

And then they made a mistake.  When the call was finished and my mother had replaced the receiver, they didn't, and the machine continued to record the conversation between themselves, all of which was a vicious, malicious, and slanderous attack on me.  (As they spoke, I could hear one of them pressing the numbers to make another call, but as she hadn't hung up, her attempts were in vain.)  At this point, I should perhaps mention that I have absolutely no criminal record of any kind (not counting Charlie Drake's 'My Boomerang Won't Come Back'), and, as far as I'm aware, have never been the subject of any official suspicion regarding my character, behaviour, or morality.  (I've only been in court once in my life, and that was an appearance I requested, but that's a story for another day.)

Now, around this time (early '90s), it had recently been reported in my local newspaper that someone was 'phoning people at home, pretending to be either a doctor or some kind of medical researcher, and asking them personal questions.  I no longer recall the exact details (I'd only glanced at the story), but I assume they were of a sexual nature.  Well, you could have knocked me down with a feather when I heard one aunt say, in regard to myself, "I bet it's that bastard who's been 'phoning people, pretending to be a doctor."  The other aunt agreed, and there was more effin' and blindin' between the two, with me as the target.  It ran for some minutes.

As you can imagine, I was stunned (and angry - still am to this day) by the enormous jump from being the owner of an answering machine to being a telephone pervert, but it left me in no doubt as to what they thought of me.  (And I should emphasize that there was [and is] nothing in my history which would warrant such an assertion - I'm squeaky clean.)  I played the tape to my parents, my father evincing shock more at their bad language than their assassination of my character ("I never knew my sisters swore like that!" he said), but they both went over to see the offending pair and upbraid them for their 'earthy' utterances and unfounded and frightful assessment of my good self.   

A couple of weeks later, one aunt had the cheek to drop in for a visit as if nothing had happened, but I was having none of it and duly informed her that she wasn't welcome and to leave at once and never come back.  (Well, do you blame me?)  And she never did.  I later played the tape to the pal who'd voiced the answer-message and he described it as being akin to a 'piece of theatre'.  I suppose he thought it sounded like something that belonged in 'The Steamie' (though there was no singing).

Over the years I was often featured in the local newspaper regarding my comics career, with photos of me with Stan Lee and Bob Hope (separately), and I even appeared on a couple of TV shows in connection with my vast array of toy collectables.  'Fame' of course is fleeting (even extremely minor fame of the kind I experienced), but it's enough to turn some people's heads.  A group of my father's family (containing the same two aunts) were sitting at a table in the local Bingo Hall one day (around 20 years ago), when I popped in to use the toilet.  (I was looking after someone's stall just below the hall.)  On my way out, they all started waving and beckoning to me, but I simply ignored them and continued on my way.

Well, like I said - do you blame me?  Things might've been different had they the decency to apologize not long after their transgression, but it was all too obvious that, years later, they were merely wanting to bathe in the reflection of my local, limited, minor and momentary 'celebrity' status - but I was having none of it.

So tell me, Criv-ites - what would you have done?  Forgiven and forgotten?  Or would you have reacted the same as me?  Feel free to contribute in our free-to-enter comments section.  And if anything similar has ever happened to you and you wish to share, then I'm here to listen.  (Or read, to be precise.)  Go on - make my day!

18 comments:

Anonymous said...

Nothing like that happened to me because my immediate family was tiny - my parents, sister, maternal grandmother and my mother's younger brother (today is the 30th anniversary of my grandmother's death). My mother's brother counted as "middle-class" because he was a former schoolteacher, retired early due to ill-health, but we all got along okay.

Kid said...

There are relatives on my mother's side that I've only met twice in 60 years, the second occasion being nearly 40 years ago. There are also only three relatives on my father's side that Id even speak to, but I seldom ever run into them. Perfectly happy with that. When I snuff it, only the minister and me will be at my send-off - and I might not even turn up if I can avoid it.

McSCOTTY said...

I would probably have waved back at them Kid, but I wouldn’t have gone over to see them – but I can’t blame your reaction at all. All my family got on pretty well and my immediate family – mum, dad, brother, grans my wee dog were all very close and looked after each other. Of course we had the odd fallout etc but I would never have been spoken to like that by any family member (my mum and dad wouldn’t have allowed it) if I was in the wrong etc they would have spoken to me properly. Can understand your feelings on this one 100%

Kid said...

Thing is, PM, if I'd waved back, they might've taken that as a sign that all had been forgiven and felt bold enough to approach me in the centre, which I really didn't want. I can't pretend, and to swap small talk with folk that were bad-minded enough, with no justification, to say such an evil thing about me - well, I just wouldn't be prepared to do it. However, what's done is done and I don't waste time thinking about it. At least it's grist for the mill - er, I mean blog.

Gene Gonzales said...

I would have handled it somewhat along the same lines, Kid. Probably harsher to tell the truth. I only know that because I come from a pretty rough family that would screw each other over for any kind of preceived gain. Aunts, uncles, cousins, didn't matter. (I had no siblings). And always a grandmother that would make excuses for their behavior. So where some people like to make the excuse that "it's family" and let things slide, I have taken the opposite approach. If family is so important, you don't screw with family.

So yeah, I'm with you. :)

Kid said...

Good man, Gene. Yeah, it's surprising what some people are prepared to put up with merely because (as you say) 'it's family' - as if that somehow makes it all right, or at least not as bad as if someone non-related did the same thing to you. My philosophy is not to put up with any nonsense from anyone - related or not. Life's too short to put up with sh*t, eh?

Lionel Hancock said...

I would never have spoken to them again or even acknowledge them... Nasty people.

Kid said...

And, apart from telling one aunt to sling 'er hook when she came calling one day, I never have, LH.

Hackney Steve said...

First of all Kid, that's an awful thing to happen to anyone - I dunno how fond you were of these aunts in the first place, but to hear what they thought of you by accident like that is just cringe-making! Well, you can choose your pals but you can't choose family, and all that stuff about blood being thicker than water is just cobblers. In answer to your question, of course you should hold a grudge over something like that! People that evil-minded aren't going to suddenly change - they were probably the type to be slagging off everybody else though, if that's any consolation? I was always taught to treat others how I'd like to be treated. 50 years of experience has taught me that doesn't work, and I've amended it to 'treat everyone the way they treat you'.

Your response to Colin Jones really chimed with me, too!

Steve

Kid said...

At the time, I wasn't especially fond of one of them, HS, though I didn't particularly mind the other, but that little incident put me off both of them for good. One's dead now, the other's still around, but I don't imagine she'll be here for too much longer (not that I'm wishing she'd speed things up). The fact that my father was surprised by their 'intemperate' language shows that he didn't know them as well as he thought he did, and I suppose we're all in the same boat when it comes to relatives we think we know. As you suggest, they probably had a bad opinion of just about everybody. I wouldn't have minded so much them not particularly liking me (I kind of suspected that anyway), but to discover their lower-than-low assessment of me was a bit of a shock. You live and learn, eh?

Bob said...

I think part of this is that your interests were, at the time, fannish and not “mainstream.”

There is a particular type of antagonism that a love for genre material can generate in older, female relations. For a certain generation of women, a love for any of this stuff is highly suspect.

Why this would be, I have no idea. For a long time I actually thought women of a certain generation were deeply suspicious of the Imaginitive realm. (How many stories do you know of mothers, aunts, teachers taking away horror magazines, comics, model kits, books....?) Because it was out of their sphere of influence? Because it made sons or grandsons or nephews “different?” Because it redirected attention away from the feminine? Who the hell knows?

But I can say that, where a love of comics or science fiction or horror can sometimes generate indifference in fathers or uncles, it often generates downright antagonism in mothers and aunts....

Kid said...

Interesting. That may well be true in regards to their general attitude towards me, B, but with the answer message in particular, they probably just saw having an answering machine as an 'uppity' affectation, not realizing that, working from home, it's really a necessity. Or maybe they were just Philistines.

Phil S. said...

The older I get the more I forgive. But since you didn’t like them much and they never apologized, write them off.

Kid said...

I did that on the day it happened, PS. No regrets.

Philip Crawley said...

It's almost as if the Geeks have inherited the Earth these days but back in the day there seemed to be a much narrower field of interests that were deemed acceptable for you to have by the older generation, sport for instance was always thought of highly. As I was the only one with artistic talent in our basically blue-collar (working class) family growing up and added to this liked comics, movies and science fiction I wasn't exactly sought out for conversation at family gatherings! But given that, it's quite a leap for those aunts to see you as a black sheep and then to point you out as a menace to society!! I'd have to side with your course of action - some people just do not deserve a second chance, especially after behaving like that.

Kid said...

No doubt there'll be one or two people having read the post who'll think that my aunts must've had some reason for thinking as they did, PC. Y'know, like I was always playing 'doctors and nurses' with female cousins when I was a kid, or something like that. Nope, nothing dodgy, no hanging around outside ladies toilets or stealing underwear from washing lines or anything of that nature. That's why I was so gobsmacked, because it came from completely out of the blue. If they'd restricted themselves to just generally running me down along the lines of "He's a loony, a waste of space, a good-for-nothing, arty-farty @rsehole" or something similar, well, that wouldn't have been a surprise as I already knew that they didn't hold me in high regard, but the sheer bad-mindedness of their statement took me totally by surprise. Whether they genuinely thought such a thing, or it was just a spur-of-the-moment insult of the nastiest kind they could imagine, I don't know, but whatever - it was more a reflection of the blackness in their own hearts than anything in mine. Who'd want to have anything to do with such evil-minded people? Certainly not me.

Dave S said...

I've come to think that some people are deeply suspicious and hostile when they see someone getting genuine pleasure from something they don't understand. The sad thing (or funny thing, depending on how charitable you're feeing toward such people) is that they don't seem to consciously understand that their hostility is driven by feeing envious of the contentedness of others.

Kid said...

Sadly, I think you're right.

Thing is, DS, I would've thought that most people would've understood (even appreciated) that having a humorous answer-phone message was just a way of alleviating the inconvenience of being 'call-monitored' when you 'phoned someone. When I was at home myself I was usually working on a strip, so I didn't want to be answering the 'phone all the time only to find it wasn't for me (time is money) - and if I was out and my parents were in, it was essential that calls for me were recorded because my folks had difficulty understanding English accents over the 'phone (though, curiously, they had no trouble with Coronation Street on TV), as well as usually forgetting to pass on messages, which could've cost me work.

So an answering machine is an essential bit of kit to a freelancer working from home, but my aunts were seemingly too thick to realize that. I think that it also shows how devoid of a sense of humour they were, in that they felt the need to 'attack' it, rather than laugh with it.



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