Keep An Eye On That Boy!

My great grandmother lived to be ninety-six years old. She lived through both world wars and the Great Depression. She passed in 1986, I believe. We visited her every Sunday without fail. 

From the time I was born till I was about seven or eight years old we always had dinner (lunch) with her whether it be, Lee’s Famous Recipe or Burger Chef. There’s a name you haven’t heard in a while? Possibly ever? lol.

Occasionally she would bake a dessert, or her famous baked beans. See, her baked beans were great northern beans with bacon, onions, and a little brown sugar. No vinegary tomato sauce. What can I say, I have a lot of Pennsylvania Dutch in my background. lol.

Anyhow, my parents always let her watch me while they went and got food. That meant a lot to her, according to my folks. I mean she was eighty-five, when I was born.

I remember one time during the week, my mom stopped by her house to help her with something. This was like 1979, I was four years old at the time. 

My grandmother always had a glass candy dish, were there was always butterscotch candy inside. Every time she saw me she gave me money, I’m supposing it was a dollar or two. 

This time she had to go upstairs to get the money, which she kept in her closet. With a fresh butterscotch popped into my mouth, I decided to tag along and follow her upstairs.

Mainly because she had this old Zenith radio, it still had tubes, it would hum as it warmed up. I think it was a late 40’s model. I was obsessed with it, she left it to me when she passed.

If my parents don’t have it in storage it’s lost. I need to ask them, I haven’t thought about it in forever. It worked before it was put into storage. Kinda makes sense a young, Damian, would dig a radio. lol.

Now, this story is kinda funny. I didn’t think so at the time, mind you I was four. Later in life I see the humor in it. lol. An important detail here, my parents did a great job teaching my brother and I manners.

We always said “thank you” put things back where we found them, put chairs back under the table, and always close doors once you’ve entered someone else’s house, etc. The little things you know?

So, my grandmother is in the closet looking for money. She’s talking out loud but I can’t understand what she’s saying. So I decide to get closer, about that time I hear her say she found it. I walk in all excited as I stop to close the door.

My grandmother’s face now looks horrified, as she says, “What did you do?” Little did I know this particular closet door, could only be opened from the outside. Oops. lol.

She’s talking about air, and the lack there of apparently, if we don’t get out soon. So now I’m scared. I don’t remember every detail, I was four.

So I’ll just tell you how my mother found us when she opened the closet door. My grandmother and I were laying on our stomachs and had our noses to the bottom of the entryway.

My grandmother had been beating on the floor with her shoe, hoping mom would hear us downstairs. 

Supposedly we had only been upstairs five to ten minutes. My grandmother thought it was more like an hour, and we were about out of air and preparing to die.

I was in tears because she had convinced me that we were goners. And I assumed it was my fault. I did close the door.

Of course everything was fine, she did explain that this is why some doors aren’t meant to be shut. Which believe me I haven’t forgot this lesson. I still make sure there are functional door knobs on both sides of the door.

Another thing about great grandmother, she always told my parents to really keep an eye on me. My parents believe that was because of me being a kid. Fair enough, I guess.

I always felt like it meant more than that, like she knew something about my life I didn’t know. I don’t know why but every time her name was mentioned after she passed, my parents told me about her saying, “Keep a close eye on that boy.”

If she could see into the future, she was spot on. I’ve been places I couldn’t have predicted, but I’ve always felt like I had a guardian angel so to speak.

Dare I say, perhaps even more than one angel watching out for my ass. There has been a plethora of close calls in my life, that’s not including the one’s I can’t recall.

There are times I’ve stuck my toe into the grave, and by most accounts I shouldn’t be alive. I should have burned up on a couch, but was unscathed somehow. 

When I was a kid I was knocked over by a moving car, supposedly I ate a lightbulb once. My, Nan (my mom’s mom or my grandma) called the doctor when I consumed the bulb, she was telling him things like I wasn’t bleeding, no vomiting, etc.

She didn’t like the doctors reply, he said, “Plug him in and see if he lights up.” I’ve heard this story my whole life. That’s not even including my adult life.

All the damage from drinking, the falls, the spills, shots to the head, the bruises, the cuts. The constant barrage of booze pickling all my internal organs. I think you get the point.

When I started sharing stories about my life in this far corner of the music scene, I knew I wasn’t gonna like everything I learned about myself. But I knew there was wisdom in learning from those mistakes. 

It’s part of my journey, to revisit past events, and understand how I got there. I wasted half of my life running away from myself, instead of embracing who I was. With my remaining time, I’m gonna try to be a better human being.

Thanks for reading everyone. Appreciate you all. Peace, Love, & Lennon.

Copyright @ Damian DeadLove 2025