Purple Golf Cart: The Misadventures of a Lesbian Grandma by Ronni Sanlo Read Free Book Online

and warm. During my teen years I was an accomplished surfer and went to the beach almost daily, to Haulover Beach just south of Sunny Isles. But for the years before the pool was built in our back yard, my mother took us kids to the Casa Loma then later to the Golden Nugget every day of the summer, thanks to the Schwartzbergs.
     
    The Schwartzbergs fought like crazy. They screamed and hollered at each other constantly. My mother visibly cringed when the Schwartzbergs got loud, and even our big sheepdog Rusty moved away from that side of our house. Mom hated hearing such meanness among family members. I was afraid to go into the Schwartzberg’s house but my sister Sherry went over there sometimes to play. I remember I had to go get her once, the only time I ever recall entering that house. Mr. Schwartzberg must have been a bookie, I figured, because there was a whole bank of black telephones on a desk in the living room. I never saw so many phones in one place that wasn’t the phone company. Bookies, though illegal, were popular in Miami because of all the dog and horse tracks and, of course, Jai Li. My father used to say that it was the ponies that put me through college. He never mentioned it (the bookie code of silence?) but I sometimes wondered if Mr. Schwartzberg had anything to do with my Dad’s occasional betting, though I don’t recall my parents socializing or even talking much with the Schwartzbergs.
    I never could tell what the Schwartzberg fights were about. Sherry and I would sit underneath the jalousie window in our bedroom and listen intently, trying to make out any of their angry words. We just couldn’t imagine how and why people treated each other that way.
     
    When the Schwartzbergs got really cranked up, Mom would pile us kids into the station wagon (what else?!) and take us away to the cabana. The fighting occurred daily, which was fine with us because that meant we were quickly hauled off to where we could swim or surf or work on our tans or walk along Collins Avenue or play endless canasta with our friends by the pool. This bliss lasted until the year we got air conditioning. At the same time the AC was installed, my parents put a large in-ground pool in our back yard. Now when the Schwartzbergs fought, my mother just turned on the air conditioner units that sat in our jalousie windows, effectively muffling the battles of the Schwartzbergs. Between our noise-muffling air conditioning and our new in-ground pool, there was no longer a need for a rented cabana.
     
    It was fun to have a big pool in our yard, I admit, but it just wasn’t the same for me. I was a serious beach bunny and a dedicated surfer. As soon as I could drive a car, I was at Haulover Beach, surfing with the boys, and ignoring the girls who refused to get wet and mess up their 1960’s Gidget hairdos. I easily lost myself in my surfing and, as with my music, I excelled.
     
    Surfing was the best escape for this young Pisces who was personable and popular in school but who preferred alone time to avoid attention or exposure. As long as people saw me as a fine musician or a talented surfer, they didn’t notice my short-comings—the colitis or my sexual orientation—both of which often betrayed me. I retreated and hid in my busy-ness. The best little girl in the world syndrome. My surfing skills, my grades, my tan, and my music were all I needed.
     
    So air conditioning changed how my family lived. No more spying on the Schwartzbergs through the jalousies and no more fleeing to the beach as a family when the Schwartzbergs got into their daily fights. I missed that.
     
     
     
     
    8. All The Girls I’ve Loved Before
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    1965
    U.S. President : Lyndon B. Johnson
    Best film : Sound of Music, Dr. Zhivago, Ship of Fools
    Best actors : Lee Marvin, Julie Christie
    Best TV shows : Lost in Space; Green Acres; The Big Valley; The Dean Martin Show; Wild Wild West; I Dream