The Lunchbox
[1954-1957] The Lunchbox [1954-1957] We couldn't always afford the hot lunches at St. Louis school [in St. Paul, Minnesota] during my elementary years [formative years], so my mother bought me a lunchbox, a Lone Ranger designed lunchbox, and I was proud to own it: yes indeed, very bigheaded about it, I suppose, if kids had heroes, and not absorptions, he was kind of my hero. And my mother would make my peanut butter sandwiches, from none other than Peter Pan Peanut Butter gars, not sure if they sell that kind anymore; then of course came Skippy Peanut butter down the lane, and a little computation [I was 9-years old then]. Then I think we went back and forth with which peanut butter was best for my lunchbox, I mean, it had to be the best for the Lone Ranger lunchbox, for I was carrying his symbol about (and I think I even had some kind of secret badge to a club of his if I recall right). And amongst those sandwiches, were a lone banana or apple, or orange, I hoped not the orange always, it was too messy, and I'd just stick a finger in it and such out all the juice, and go wash my hands. Thus, I preferred the banana. Then my brother Mike and I would march on down to school, and when lunchtime came, I'd march on down to the basement of the 1886, schoolhouse, and eat lunch in the lunchroom. There were different times for lunch for different classes and grades, and so Mike being two grades higher than I, ate before me, and left school before me, at 2:00 PM, verses, my 4:00 PM. But I always prayed mom would forget to buy wax paper for the sandwiches, and have to give us .25-cents [or was it .15-cents?] for lunch: yes I preferred the hot lunch to the cold, although I liked bringing my Lone Ranger lunchbox. If, in fact, anything, as I look back now, my mother (who has passed on ((July 1, 2003)), loved being a mom, I mean, she really did. I suppose the years of us boys in our teens got too her, as they do to most parents, if not all parents, but I think (as I now look back and review some old pictures), she just simply like being a mom; enjoyed it, love it. It was more than a job to her. She never had much in life, but she had that. On Sundays, old Grandpa, Russian built, stout, would call up the family for afternoon dinner; it was always like a banquette it seemed. He was a good ole soul, just cursed with the wicked tongue a lot (as they say in Peru: he had hair on his tongue). He'd make the best Sunday dinners anyone could have imagined. And if the relatives would not come over to eat, God save their souls, he'd start to curse the Old Russian way, and it would go on eternally, or so it seemed. You'd think he was fifty feet tall, he was 4'11, yes, just under five foot, like my wife, and she thinks she's fifty feet tall to. Anyhow they came, and what was left over: chicken or ham, we'd get in the lunches until doomsday [doomsday being, until there was no more of course]. I mean grandpa bought a 20-pound ham, two chickens, sausage, and the stove was cooking from midnight the day before until noon the following day, just before everyone sat down to eat on Sunday; sometimes his cooking pans he'd put in the oven, were so large, they barely fit. But yes, yes undeniably, there was a problem though: when mom put the ham onto the sandwiches, and wrapped them in wax paper, by noon the following day, they'd be soggy, yes really, saggy as milk on breed, and you'd have to drag the meat off. But I never said anything, lest I end up with peanut butter five days in a row. In the lunch room Linda MaCalley the eye catcher of the room, we had two grades in our room, and between thirty and forty students [big rooms, and lots of heads to look over, at and around], as I was about to say, Linda MaCalley, she was the prettiest one in class, and we sat together now and then, more than, than now, but it happened. I even stuck up for her once, that is, I was playing by her house one day, downtown St. Paul, after school, walked my friend Mike Reassert, his home (he and Linda lived by one another; we were all poor folks], and he said something about her and a fight started, I got the better of him, but she got to watch her hero fight for her. It didn't lead to anything, but then the Lone Ranger's followers couldn't expect much, could they now? I had a reputation to uphold for him. He may have been my first hero, I'm not sure, but it is good to have good heroes to emulate. It delivers down the road of life. I don't know much of Mr. Clayton Moore, whom was the actor in the movie [s], but I can say this, they don't make his kind anymore. Nor would I care to have my children emulate any new actors of today, God help their souls should they. Anyhow, this is the tale, the story of my first lunchbox you could say, in those far of days of my youth. In Spanish
By Nancy Penaloza La Lonchera
1954-1957] Nosotros no siempre podamos permitirnos los almuerzos calientes en la escuela de Saint Louis [en Saint Pal, Minnesota] durante mis aos elementales [formativos], por eso mi madre me compr una lonchera, una lonchera diseada para un Guardabosques Solitario, y estuve orgulloso de poseerlo: s, supongo, si los nios tuvieran hroes, y no absorciones, l era algo as como mi hroe. Mi madre preparara mis emparedados de mantequilla de cacahuete, de ningn otro que de la Mantequilla de cacahuete de Peter Pan gars, dudo si ellos venden mas de esa clase; luego por su puesto vino la mantequilla de Skippy Penute sendero abajo, y un poco de evaluacin [era yo, de 9 aos]. Entonces creo que volvimos y con lo que en adelante la mantequilla de cacahuate fue lo mejor para mi lonchera, pienso, esto tuvo que ser lo mejor para la lonchera de un guardabosques Solitario, ya que yo llevaba su smbolo. Y entre aquellos emparedados, estaba un pltano solitario o la manzana, o la naranja, yo, no siempre esperaba la naranja, era demasiado sucia, y ya, me haba pegado un dedo en ello y echando fuera todo el jugo, yendo a lavar mis manos. Ms, prefer el pltano. Entonces mi hermano Miguel y yo nos dirigamos hacia la escuela, y cuando la hora del almuerzo llegaba, nos dirigamos hacia el stano de la escuela de 1886, para almorzar en el comedor. Haba diferentes momentos para el almuerzo, por eso, Miguel por estar dos grados ms adelante que yo coma , y dejaba la escuela antes que yo, a 2:00 de la tarde, contra, 4:00 de la tarde que lo hacia yo. Pero yo siempre rogaba, que mam olvidara de comprar el papel de cera para los emparedados, y tener que darnos .25 centavos [o era .15 centavos?] para el almuerzo: s, prefera el almuerzo caliente al fro, aunque me gustara traer mi lonchera de Guardabosques Solitario. Si, de hecho, algo, as, recuerdo ahora, mi madre (quien falleci ((el julio de 2003)), gozaba siendo una buena mam, s, que ella realmente lo fue. Supongo en los aos de adolescente consigui ella demasiado, como ellas suelen hacer, si no todos los padres, pero pienso (mientras ahora miro hacia atrs y reviso algunas viejas fotografas), ella simplemente solo gozaba siendo mam; disfrutando ello, amando ello. Esto era algo ms que un trabajo para ella. Ella nunca tuvo mucho en la vida, pero ella tena eso. Los domingos, el Abuelo, un ruso de constitucin fuerte, llamaba a la familia para la cena de la tarde; esto era siempre algo parecido a un banquete. l era un alma noble, solo maldecido con muy mala lengua. l poda hacer la mejor cena de domingo que cualquiera podra imaginarse. Y si los parientes no venan para comer, Dios salve sus almas, l comenzara a maldecir a la forma rusa antigua, y esto podra continuar eternamente, o as pareca. Usted creera que l era cincuenta pies de altura, l era 4 ' 11, s, justo bajo cinco pies, como mi esposa, y ella piensa que son cincuenta pies de altura. De todos modos ellos vinieron, y que fue dejado encima: el pollo o el jamn, nosotros entraramos a los almuerzos hasta el da del juicio final [el da del juicio final era, hasta que no quedaba ms nada). Creo que el abuelo compr un jamn de 20 libras, dos pollos, salchichas, y la estufa estuvo cocinando a partir de la medianoche, hasta el medioda del siguiente da, justo antes de que cada uno se siente para comer. A veces las cazuelas de cocina que l pona en el horno eran tan grandes, apenas aptas. Pero s, s, pienso que hubo un problema: cuando mam pona el jamn en los emparedados, y los envolva en papel encerado, par el almuerzo del siguiente da siguiente, estos estaran empapados, s de verdad flccidos como la leche sobre el pan, y usted tendra que jalar la carne. Pero nunca dije nada, a menos que yo terminara con mantequilla de cacahuate cinco das en enemistad. En el comedor, Linda Macalley la vigilante del cuarto, tenamos dos grados en nuestro cuarto, y entre treinta y cuarenta estudiantes [cuartos grandes, y muchas cabezas alrededor para revisar), como estuve a punto de decir, Linda Macalley, quien era la ms bonita en la clase, y nos sentbamos juntos de vez en cuando, pero ms, que ahora, pero pas. Hasta sobresal para ella alguna vez, es decir, yo estaba jugando por su casa un da, en el centro de Saint Paul, despus de la escuela, andaba mi amigo Miguel Reassert, a su casa (l y Linda Vivian el uno cerca al otro; todos nosotros ramos gente pobre], y l dijo algo sobre ella y una pelea empez, consegu estar mejor que l, pero ella consigui ver a su hroe pelear por ella. Esto no condujo a nada, pero entonces los seguidores del Guardabosques Solitario no podan esperar mucho, podran ellos ahora? Yo tena una reputacin que mantener para l. l pudo haber sido mi primer hroe, no estoy seguro, pero est bien tener a hroes buenos para emular. Esto te lleva por el camino de vida. No conozco mucho del Sr. Clayton Moore, quien era el actor en la pelcula [la s], pero puedo decir esto, ellos nunca hacen su carcter. Tampoco me gustara hacer que mis nios emulasen a cualquier nuevo actor de hoy, Dios ayude a sus almas verdad?, De todos modos, este es el cuento, la historia de mi lonchera de mano usted podra decir, en aquellos muchos aos pasados. |
