Gobbles and Giggles

OCCUPY THANKSGIVING Squatters

One Thanksgiving morning, we awoke to a kitchen full of squatters.  Every bit of counter space was filled with large, brightly colored, honeycomb tissue paper turkeys sporting protest signs.  Even our traditional table decoration turkeys had migrated to join the protesters.  OCCUPY THANKSGIVING read their picket signs.  All over the country, protesters were squatting on public property with OCCUPY WALL STREET signs and now they had come to our house. 

Protesters

"Counter" Protesters

Turkeys,of course, have the right to protest on Thanksgiving, as they do not accept that their birthright is to feed the nation, but only Jory would bring them home.  Of course, there were “counter” protesters, as well.  Cows and pigs surrounded the turkeys in signs that read EAT MORE TURKEY and THE COWS ARE RIGHT!  EAT MORE TURKEY.  We took a poll, in which Jory was most vocal, but nobody wanted to switch to tofu turkey, so the protesters were overruled for the upcoming holidays.

At the beginning, we all would gather at Grandma Edna and Grandpa Morris’ house.  Grandma Bertha, Grandpa Sergio, and Aunt Miriam and Aunt Molly also joined us.  Thanksgiving was still a rather new holiday for them, having recently immigrated with Sam to Los Angeles from Mexico City.  Every year there were also other relatives and invited friends, so the table was expanded to accommodate everyone.

Thanksgiving lunch for the needy.

Thanksgiving morning, before we came to Grandma Edna’s house, we had things to prepare for our feast and we had an important obligation.  The boys and I went down to a small local church and served Thanksgiving dinner to the needy.  Each boy brought a tray of my freshly baked pumpkin bread, pies, or cookies to be shared.  The church parking lot was filled with tables and chairs.  Along the outside wall was a buffet table that stretched the entire length of the building.  Delicious homemade food filled every space on top of the crisp white table clothes.  There was turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, marshmallow yams, green beans, corn, black beans, rice, tortillas, biscuits, corn bread, pumpkin bread, pies, cakes, and cookies.  The line of hungry families and homeless people meandered down the street and around the corner.  Volunteers served the food as hungry individuals chose what they wanted.  At the end of the buffet table, the boys carried the filled plates to a dining table and helped the people get seated and comfortable.  We stayed to help until the last person had their fill.  It was important to me that the boys realize that there are many who are less fortunate than ourselves and it was their duty to treat them as guests and help out with whatever was needed.  It made Thanksgiving even sweeter, having done a mitzvah, or good deed, for others who could not repay that kindness.

Jory and Grandpa Morris in fun wigs.

Feeling pleased to be able to help the hungry, we then headed to Grandma Edna's house.  From the minute we entered the door, we could hear one of Grandpa Morris’ upbeat records playing on his turntable in the living room stereo cabinet.  As the spirit and the music moved us, one by one, we would become a family flash mob that gathered on the stone tiled walkway between the living room and the dining room.  The rhythms were contagious and feet began to dance on the hard surface.  We were a regular tap dance troupe, showing off our steps and moves.  Occasionally, someone would join us in one of Grandma Edna’s fun wigs and, just like in the old movies, we would laugh and dance on with tap dance steps that reverberated off the walls.

Salvador Dali jigsaw puzzle

Jory, Thalia, and Shan post scavenger hunt.

It seemed forever that we waited for the meal to begin, so distractions were available to keep our minds off of growing appetites.  A card table in the living room was a favorite spot to search for straight edges or red pieces in the large colorful jigsaw puzzles that challenged us every year.  The first comers occupied the four chairs, but the table corners offered room for bystanders who had aerial vision and could reach over the table to secure that obscure piece of cloud or sunshine.  Every year the puzzles seemed to become more interesting and complicated.  Once, when the boys were very young, we were all surprised to find that a playboy centerfold puzzle had made its way onto the card table.  Later, placing the final piece in the puzzle became a coveted honor.  Suspiciously, Jory began finding that last piece under the table, but his brothers swore that it was always hidden in his pocket.  The next year it happened again.  From that time on, Darren and Shan each sequestered a “last” piece, making sure that brother Jory couldn't finish the puzzle.   As they got older, the nature of the games expanded as the boys created their own activities to pass the time until dinner.  One year, Shan and Thalia organized a scavenger hunt for Jory’s prized railroad conductor’s hat that he claimed had been kidnapped.  Afterwards, the three of them showed up to the table wearing their various found treasures.  The brothers were never at a loss for silliness and laughter.

Jory and Shan at the oven door with a turkey hat.

Meanwhile, the ovens were bursting with the savory aromas of roast turkey with stuffing, candied yams, and pumpkin and corn breads.  We were salivating as our tummies gurgled.  The dessert table was already set with pumpkin, pecan, and apple pies; and as much whipped cream as one could pile on.  Gratefully, dinner is usually early on Thanksgiving and we were all hungry and ready.

Prum Family traditional Thanksgiving Table

We longingly checked out the Thanksgiving table, where presiding at the center is always a balding straw turkey whose remaining tail feathers are now short and scraggly.  They were never brilliantly colored, but in our memories, they represent the radiant past 60+ years of beautiful family gatherings around the Thanksgiving table.  Not alone, this raffia turkey is joined by equally old, mini-sculptured candles shaped like Pilgrims and Native Americans and a few colorful pumpkin and gourd candles that have remained unlit throughout the years.  They stand surrounded by vibrant red, orange, and yellow leaves that fall from the trees outside to bring color to our table.  Adding sparkle to the table is the flock of brightly colored, foil wrapped See’s chocolate turkeys, each carefully placed before every person’s place setting.  (When this custom began, the See's chocolate turkeys cost 35¢ each.  Now they are $5.50 apiece.) 

Thanksgiving buffet table

Jory serves himself turkey while Thalia waits.

When dinner was announced, everyone rushed to the buffet table to fill their plates with our sumptuous dinner.  The turkey had already been carved, so choosing between the dark and white meat was easy.  Steam rising from the bread stuffing curled into our nostrils, making our mouths water in anticipation.  The dish of candied yams bathed in their sweet orange sauce was adjacent to the plate of round, cranberry sauce slices.  Next to Grandpa Morris’ required green salad was a bowl of bright green string beans.  A bowl of spiced peach halves and one of black olives added condiments to the meal.  Of course, the baskets of pumpkin and corn bread were passed around after everyone was seated at the dining table.

After the meal and before dessert, we had two very important traditions to fulfill.  First, we went around the table so that everyone could share those things that they were thankful for.   Thoughts and words were percolating within each of us throughout this special day.  Now they were validated as each of us said them aloud in the presence of those that we loved most.        

Turkey Farm

Our second tradition was the Turkey Gobble, which had its origin when I was about 9 years old.  Grandpa Morris would take us to the turkey farm at Mt. San Antonio College.  We could hardly wait to jump out of the car and sprint to the fence.  All the turkeys in the yard came to greet us.  Grandpa Morris would throw his hands up like conducting an orchestra and command, “All together now!”  At Grandpa Morris’ prompting, the turkeys would join in a rambunctious cacophony of gobbles.  We loved it and urged encore after encore.  All the way home, we would practice gobbling, but no one could beat Grandpa Morris.  To this day, we still honor these traditions.  New members to our family shyly turn red as they undergo this sacred initiation into the Prum family custom.  Laughter abounds following each gobbling solo.  Finally, the grand finale occurs when Sam raises his hands to conduct the ensemble and says, “All together now,” and everyone gobbles in unison.  When the giggles subside, the pies are served.

Pumpkin, pecan, and apple pies.

We have always had two or three kinds of pie at Thanksgiving:  pumpkin, pecan, and apple.  Not everyone was a fan of pumpkin pie, and Jory was allergic to the milk based pies, so I made apple pie for him and anyone else who wanted some.  Whipped cream made the pies really special.  Sometimes, the boys, each armed with a can of whipped cream, faced off in the kitchen and came out covered in white deliciousness.  Jory was not allergic to making a mess with whipped cream and we always had a generous supply on hand.

Prum family Thanksgiving table decorations.

In time, the straw turkey along with the assortment of table decorations migrated to our house.  Grandma Edna and Grandpa Morris had moved from Whittier to Leisure World.  Grandma Edna declared a hiatus, and their kitchen went on vacation.  At first, they contributed the roasted turkey, but eventually they had done their duty and became guests.  Everything else remained almost the same.  We all gathered together to feast on our favorites, express our thanks, gobble, giggle, and chomp on those chocolate turkeys.

Jory singing "Bertha from Bolinas" after dinner.

As each of the boys became adults and began to explore their futures, they moved in different directions and into distant locales.  It was not always possible for all three to be with us for Thanksgiving.  Darren moved to Nevada, then Florida; Jory was drawn to Fairfax and Norway; and Shanon migrated to Australia, then San Diego.  They always called or Skyped sometime during the day if they were not able to make the trip home.  When Jory was with us, there was always an after dinner serenade of his favorite songs.  Most were satirical and funny and some, like “Bertha from Bolinas,” were his own compositions.  He was pretty young when Grandma Bertha passed away, but he memorialized her name in his music. 

Last year was the first year that we were all together for Thanksgiving without Jory.  Darren hosted the event.  It wasn't easy, but we made it through together.  It was Eliza’s first Thanksgiving, as she was born to Shan and Thalia 10 days before Jory passed away.  Having a baby in the family helped camouflage the underlying sadness that we all felt.

Thanksgiving 2016 at Darren and Andra's house.

As a surprise for me, Jory's brothers scheduled a photographer to take family portraits.  We scouted locales near Darren’s home to find trees with red, gold, and orange leaves.  The spot we chose was near a picturesque lake house with rocking chairs on the wooden porch.  Fortunately, the inhabitants were away celebrating Thanksgiving with relatives, so we made ourselves at home for a fun picture shoot that redefined our family and is helping us all move forward with our current reality.

The Redefined Prum Family on Thanksgiving 2016

Luckily for us, no one was home when we used the porch for this fun photo.  Jory would have loved this.

COMMENTS:  

Click on Jorysmother@gmail.com to send comments.

Jory Prum    January 29, 2009
I maintain that I was not allergic. My parents claim I was calmer when I was "allergic", but they didn't know I was having chocolate milk at school.  

Abe

Thank you for helping me get to know so many things about Jory that I did not know. I await eagerly every new chapter of your blog that you write so beautifully and with so much love.

Rita

Your stories are so poignant and interesting-the addition of photos is ingenius.  Your extended family is an amazing achievement. Few are so lucky.

Erik

Love it and KEEP ME ON THE LIST. Hehehehehe

©  2017  Leslye J.  Prum  All rights reserved.

Stepping Stones

Kermit came to the hospital and hung upside down above the foot of Jory’s bed until the end, but Kermit was a latecomer.   It all began on Sesame Street before Jory was 2 years old.  He fell in love with Cookie Monster and Rubber Ducky.  We had an 11 inch color TV and Jory would dance in front of it singing along with the muppets, "C is for cookie, that's good enough for me."  He joined in when Ernie sang to Rubber Ducky in the tubby.  That Chanukah, squealing with excitement, Jory opened a gift containing his own rubber ducky along with Bert and Ernie hand puppets, which he kept and safeguarded forever.  He sang "Rubber Duckie" and "C is for Cookie" his entire life, eventually being able to closely imitate the voices of muppet actors Frank Oz and Jim Henson. 

A few months after Jory's second birthday, Star Wars was released.  Jory was too young to see the film, but the theme song played all over the radio.  Since California kids are raised in cars while being constantly transported from place to place, Jory was generously exposed to the score written by John Williams.  Almost immediately, he was singing "Na, Naaa...Na Na Na Naaa......Naaa.... Na Na Na Naaa....."  Everywhere we went, Jory sang at the top of his lungs, inviting strangers to comment, "Hey, do you hear that kid singing Star Wars?" 

He was approaching 3 years old when our family decided upon our first visit to Disneyland.  Older brother Darren was almost 8 and had been pleading to go.  We lived in Mickey's backyard, but as a young couple, couldn't afford it sooner.  We were as excited as the kids, wanting to see their faces as they met the real Mickey and Minnie Mouse at the photo station on Main Street, USA.

The minute we entered the park, Jory spied the steam locomotive chugging into the Disneyland train station and shouted with joy.  He had fallen in love with trains from the many storybooks we had read to him and tugged at our hands to hurry up so he could see it up close.  In retrospect, he was probably intrigued mostly by the rhythmic clattering of the steel wheels along the tracks, the whoosh of steam escaping from the brakes and smokestack, the engineer releasing double wailing blasts from the horn, as well as the conductor's clanging the bell and singing, "All.....a-b-o-a- r-d!"  If portable sound recorders had been invented then, he would have told us all to keep quiet while he stuck his right hand up into the air and recorded all the glorious sounds for his library.

As we entered Main Street, a spiffy uniformed marching band was making its way around the circle.  Jory's eyes opened wide as he watched the rows of shiny brass horns and cadenced drums parade by us and down the street.  Again he tugged as he tried to persuade us to follow the band.

Throughout the day, we went on ride after ride, always ending each attraction humming the melody of that particular ride.  As we stood in line for the next ride, Jory sang "Alice in Wonderland, la la la la laaaa" or "I can fly, I can fly, I can fly...."  He insisted that we ride the Merry-Go-Round several times.  I thought it was because he loved going up and down on the sparkling, white carousel horses.  Years later, while Jory and I were again riding a Disney carousel, he told me that it was because he loved listening to the calliope.

In New Orleans Square, there was a Dixieland band performing in a pavilion, and another outside the Carnation ice cream parlor.  Jory took delight in each band and was reluctant to move on to the next attraction.  He was dazzled by tubas and trombones.  We thought he was drawn to them by their size and color:  gleaming brass and shiny silver ones, each tuba curling around the player and evolving into a glorious spout above his head, and each trombone with its arm-length slippery slide moving its sounds into the atmosphere.  In hindsight, Jory was mesmerized by their um-pa-pa's and wa-wa-wa's. 

Shortly after sunset, we thankfully found seats curbside along Main Street for a brief rest while waiting for Disney's hometown character parade.  We were all exhausted from a full day of fun and excitement.  Jory had missed his nap and his eyelids were heavy, but he was fighting hard to keep them open.  All of a sudden, a man's polished voice blared from loud speakers above us, "Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls of all ages:  Disneyland is proud to present the Main Street Electrical Parade!"  Immediately following, flowed a river of synthesized music in an upbeat, syncopated rhythm, accompanied by 600,000 sparking lights concealing small vehicles that whirled and darted down the street.  Jory came alive.  Electronic music was fairly new and it was the first time that he was experiencing it.  Jory absorbed each note and after the initial loop, was able to sing the entire catchy melody.

On our way out of the park, we stopped at the General Store and Jory was gifted with an LP vinyl recording of the Main Street Electrical Parade.  He could hardly wait to play it on his plastic kid's record player, but like any exhausted toddler, fell sound asleep in the car on the way home, clutching his record.  With Mickey taking a surprising back seat, the absolute highlights of Jory's day at Disneyland were tubas, trombones, drums, and stick-in-your-head melodies.

The next morning, singing the Main Street Electrical Parade ditty at full volume, Jory woke us up by climbing into our bed inquiring about his record.  Before releasing it to a very rambunctious Jory, Sam safeguarded the pristine record by recording a tape cassette on our Hi Fi stereo system.  Twice we listened to it:  first as it was being recorded and then the recorded version.  Jory danced around the room with glee and excitement as Sam placed the record into his chubby little hands and told him to be very careful not to scratch it with the needle.  Like a cartoon character, he dashed to his room with his prized possession, leaving the air behind him swirling.

Almost immediately, Jory emerged, sobbing and screaming, "Daddy stole the boom booms!"  We couldn't understand what he was saying nor could we calm him down.  Louder and clearer he shouted, "DADDY STOLE THE BOOM BOOMS!"  Sam and I looked at each other trying to figure it out.  Nothing clicked, so Sam placed the record on Jory's toy turntable, gently placed the arm at the disc's edge, and lowered the needle into the groove.   "Dum De De Dum Dum....." began the music, yet Jory could not be soothed.  Finally, Sam looked at me and proclaimed, "This children's record player has no bass.  He can hear that the bass is missing from the music."  We were dismayed.  It was our first real awareness of Jory's musical talent and gift.

In hindsight, this was the pivotal time of Jory's young life.  Through music, he fell in love with Jim Henson's world of fun and funny muppets, George Lucas' world of innovation, and Walt Disney's magical world of creativity.  We would never have guessed at that time that the stepping stones for his professional career would include jobs as an Electron at Jim Henson's Creature Shop, a sound designer for Star Wars Video Games at LucasArts, and a sound engineer at Disney Online.

Even into his early 40's, Jory continued singing “Rubber Ducky” and “C is for Cookie.”  When he added "It's Not Easy Being Green,” Kermit joined Jory's favorites.  Working as an Electron at The Creature Shop, he earned the right to wear a black, Jim Henson's Productions jacket with Kermit embroidered on the back and Jory's name on the front.  As an adult, he wore Cookie Monster t-shirts and was often requested to sing his signature Sesame Street songs at open mic venues and parties.  When Jory opened his studio, Kermit the Frog, in stuffed animal form, presided up-side-down on a microphone stand, immediately establishing Jory's playful sense of working and living.  He now sits at our house on the piano that was Jory’s first instrument.

COMMENTS:  

Click on Jorysmother@gmail.com to send comments.

Jory Prum   January 7, 2009
When I was very small, Grandma Edna gave me a picture disc 10" record of the "Disneyland Main Street Electrical Parade" soundtrack. My dad said, "Let me copy it to a cassette before you play it, so we can listen to it in the car." He knew I was going to destroy the record on my toy turntable.  I listened as he copied the record and then ran excitedly to my room to listen to it on my record player.  I then ran crying to my mom, inconsolable. She asked me what was wrong and I said, "Daddy stole the boom-booms from my record!"  I didn't understand it at the time, but my dad's stereo was a really nice high-fidelity system and my little toy record player simply couldn't reproduce the bass that I'd already heard on his speakers!  Thank you for everything, Grandma!

Donna
Musical talent is right!

Molly
Another fascinating and beautifully told account of Jory's wonderful gift with sounds and music.   It showed early on his creativity, rhythm and love for music, but more than anything, it showed your support and belief in his pursuits. He succeeded because you believed in him and were with him since early on in his life.  Read it three times already!

Alyse
So incredibly powerful!  Thank you for sharing your insides and outsides.

Sam K.
I started this lovely Sunday morning by reading your first two posts. Joryprumfreespirit.blogspot.com is now on my favourites bar!  I so enjoy the vignettes and your insights into the making of the man.  I think it must be characteristic of you to find ways to transform the tragedies of life – be they big or small – into triumphs of spirit as you are doing with this journal. And, there is a lot of potential for a book.  What vividly re-created vignettes. I didn’t know Jory, but these stories give me windows into who he was (and why…)

Miriam

Jory will always hold a very special place in our heart.  His winning smile from the youngest age, his awe and wonder at everything in the world, to his incredible ear for music and wonderful sense of humor.

Several stories from his childhood capture all of this.  I remember hearing from you how one day you found him in the car having taken apart the sun roof to see how it worked and another time in tears because when Sam recorded his favorite music onto cassette, he took away his "Boom-boom" and then of course was one of his favorite songs - "fish heads" complete with actually getting a fish head.

© 2017  Leslye J. Prum.  All Rights Reserved.