William Rockford Winsor, Man on the Cusp of Feminism. (Yup …. He’s Me Dad, He Is …. )

My Dad and I had a complicated relationship, as a lot of Father / Son relationships tend to be. We were actually two sides of the same coin. He was tough as nails, a Walk Proud, Talk Loud kind of Man. But he had a soft, very artistic side. I have a picture he painted just a few years before he died. It’s three Women dancers holding a fourth one aloft. People always assume it’s something I painted. If I get my head out of my ass far enough, maybe I’ll be able to figure out how to thumbnail it into this article. (I HATE computers …. )

I was pretty much the opposite. I was quiet and shy but could be as tough as I needed to be. I didn’t want to have to be in school. I was bullied some as a result. It’s popular to think every boy was bullied at some point, but I’m not sure that’s true. I wouldn’t fight back in school, but I hand-nailed a plywood roof down at -22 degrees because Dad said; “Let’s just go check it out and see what it’s like”

“It’s dangerously cold, BILL, that’s what the fuck it’s like” I said in my head, but didn’t want to say that out loud for fear of looking weak. I figured out later it’s weak not to speak up and say your peace, but I guess that’s part of the maturing process. I used to think when I was a but a mere tot I’d have lived long enough at 35 years old or so to have things pretty well figured out. HA !!! I’m coming up on being twice that age in several years, and I feel like I’m getting dumber by the minute.

My Old Man was a Carpenter. (A damn good one) He was senior Carpenter at Capp Homes, which is no more. They were nationwide. There’s a 70’s movie called the The Getaway with Steve McQueen. In one scene, Steve-o sits down, opens a newspaper, (A newspaper is an archaic device made of paper that once delivered the news) and on it, by happenstance, is a full page ad for; …. Capp Homes.

Here’s a few contradictory stories about Father to illustrate my point :

He stopped watching the Dean Martin show, (even though he LOVED Dean Martin). This show was the height of cool during the “Swinging Sixties”. Dean, (Deano to his fans), wore a Tuxedo and always had a cigarette going, along with a drink in his hand. The man had an almost other-worldly good singing voice. He was also, (along with partner Jerry Lewis), the top box-office draw in the World for a time. The man was King in the Sixties.

I asked him why he quit on the show. “Ohhh, they have so many …. stupid jokes about Women; it’s just …. DUMB” This was DECADES before the word Sexist came into being, but that’s what he was articulating. At the end of the show, Dean …. Deano, would pull a swizzle stick from his drink and pretend to read a dirty limerick from it. I remember a snippet about a Woman playing Poker:

“She wasn’t that good with cards, but boy did she have a pair”

WOW. (Ouch, sorry about that). Y-y-y-ep, that’s what passed for wit in those days. But that was the basic tenor of the show. It was a variety show, which we don’t have anymore. There would be comedy sketches, a musical guest, more “comedy”, and maybe a dramatic scene or two…. There was a BUNCH of these types of shows. Ed Sullivan, Carol Burnette, Flip Wilson, et al.

Another time, when we were driving home, I heard the Helen Reddy song I Am Woman come over the radio for the first time. This was THE defining song for The Women’s Movement, which was just beginning to come into its own. I glanced over at him and saw that he was really paying close attention to it as he drove, and wondered what he might say when it was over. (Dad could be pretty old-school about a lot of things.)

“Well, I guess she’s got the right idea about things, huh?”

I recall being proud of him in that moment, and a little surprised to tell the truth. Pops was a man of strong opinions, strongly held. I honestly don’t recall him changing his mind about anything. The phrase “I could be wrong” or “Okay, I’ll concede that point” if someone’s take on things was contradictory to his just wasn’t in his lexicon. He was right, you were wrong, end of story. One time, for his Birthday my Sister got him a picture of a Bulldog with the caption “My mind’s made up, don’t confuse me with the facts” He ROARED with laughter, and displayed it proudly in his den.

A lot of men, (Doctors and such) had offices; REAL. MEN. HAD. DENS ….

And yet, on the other h-a-a-a-nd:

There was The Thing with Mom. She was a bit of a pistol, our Phyllis. She was the mirror image of Dad. (LOTS of fun, but don’t piss her off.) I can remember a time or two (or more than that) hearing them argue downstairs, at volume. Neither one giving an inch of ground. It didn’t happen a ton, but when it did, all Hell broke loose. I don’t know if they ever resolved anything…..

One time Dad took me aside for a rare tender moment. “I suppose you heard me and your Mom last night huh”

Me: “Yeah”…. Sniff ‘

Dad: “Scare you a little bit? Wonder if we don’t love each other?”

Me: “Yeah”…. Sniff’

Dad: “Don’t ever worry about that Slugger. If I didn’t love her I wouldn’t bother arguing with her”

Hmmm …. Toss that one around in your brain for a while when you’re 7 or 8 years old. Anyway; The Thing with Mom. As I stated earlier, Mom was a bit of a pistol. And, long about the time I was in High School, Mom got a little bored. Seeing as how I was the youngest of three and handling a lot of stuff on my own, Phyllis decided to get a job and get out of the house a bit.

“Let’s Get ready To R-U-M-B-L-L-L-L-E “

Oye’ …. THAT one was a doozy. went on for a coupla days. (That had never happened before.) Mr. Helen Reddy had the right idea wasn’t having any parts of this get out of the house business. “She can take care of you kids and the house. That ought to be enough to keep her busy” I noticed he stuck his chin out a little, like he usually did when he was mad. (We aren’t all that far removed from our ancient ancestors)

Well, it wasn’t.

I hadda side with Mom on this one. I wasn’t aware of the Bro’ code at such a young age. The house was clean. We three kids were pretty much all doing our own laundry. Between Breakfast and Dinner, she had a bit of a swath of time there, Willie. I didn’t see his problem.

It didn’t turn out well in the end. The job lasted all of about three days. She got a nothing job at a film processing place. Nothing wrong with film processing per se, but her job was menial. (Is film processing even a thing anymore?) The people working there were divided into two camps over some kind of feud between a couple of women working there.

“If you talk to them, you don’t talk to us” Mom enquired how long the feud had been going on. “Twenty-seven YEARS”

She quit on the spot.

Things returned to what passed for normal at our house. We kids grew up, moved away, and started lives of our own. We got married, had kids, and got divorced.

And, now I’m here. Hacking away at my laptop, talking about my crazy-ass Family with dreams of making a go of it as a writer.

Life’s funny, ain’t it?

Be Good Everyone,

-Mark Rockford Winsor-