ME & THE MOLESTER

He was a long time friend of my mother's family since before I was born. One who came north from Georgia with his wife & daughter during World War II. They were neighbors of my grandmother. Grandma was a fervid Pentecostal and so were they.

I didn't meet him until the late 1950's, then he was a widower and his daughter was grown and far away. His last name when spoken with a Georgia accent sounded exactly like Pharaoh. In fact I thought THAT was his actual name until I was around 10.

I first meet Mr. Pharaoh when I was 8. He was back in his native Georgia. We stopped to visit on our way home from Detroit. Unlike my previous trip to Michigan, this was a long car excursion with the entire family.

I found Georgia beautiful and Mr. Pharaoh pleasant, though our visit was brief.

I didn't see him again until the summer before my 12th Birthday. He came to visit and stayed in our guest house which had been vacant since my grandfather's death. This time, he seemed quite taken with me, downright fascinated you might say. He was just TOO interested! His attention made my flesh crawl.

For his entire visit he kept mentioning what a pretty young thing I was and he couldn't understand why I didn't have a boyfriend. Never mind that boys of that age were more interested in baseball & bug collections than in girls. And I was a child in a training bra! But I got the strong impression HE wanted to be my boyfriend! I found his attention unnatural and creepy.

Fortunately, one of my parents was always around. Thankfully, I was never forced to be alone with him!

When he wasn't talking about how fetching I was, he was quoting scripture verses at me. I've noticed that religion seems to be the perfect cover and disguise for lowlifes. 

 I was relieved when he left!

The next and final time I saw him I was at age 22. He was remarried. He and his new wife dropped by on their way to Miami. She was a woman his age with a nice nest egg. Pharaoh commented how much I resembled my Aunt Kiki, a professional model in the 1950's. He declared he was taking me back to Georgia. 

"No, I think not!" I told him with repulsion.  

On their return trip from Miami, they dropped by the house again. I was at work in West Palm Beach with my father; this enabled me to avoid seeing them. Mr. Pharaoh and his wife were considering taking a Bahamas cruise, later.

My mother mentioned that Dad & I had taken one together a few years earlier.

"Did he sleep with Dianne?" Pharaoh wanted to know.

Horrified by this question, my mother at first gasped, "NO!" she shouted into his face.

Mom told me of this in private, later. My father was nothing like that! It was an insult to the entire family!

"You should have kicked him off the property," I said with disgust, "and forbade him ever to return!"

"He apologized immediately when he saw my reaction," she explained.

"That doesn't matter," I insisted, "just for thinking it, you should have given him the boot!"

"It did jog my memory, Mom confessed."He was accused of molesting his own daughter. It happened long ago in Detroit when his first wife was in the hospital. The girl recanted because everyone told her to stop making up stories, her father would go to prison. And it would be her fault! Now, I believe he actually did it!"

"So do I! It doesn't surprise me a bit!" I exclaimed.

The deepest place in Hell is the most vast of all, reserved for a variety of sins, not just one! Forgiveness should be granted only those who are sincerely sorry. Not those who express regret only when caught.

REFLECTING ON MY COLLECTING

Last spring, my friend Marie phoned to borrow a hat for a fancy dress-up event she was attending.

"What style and color?" I asked. "I've got you covered, whatever," I told her.

"I knew I came to the right person!"  She chuckled.

And indeed she did! Marie was pleased with the hat I lent her. Also I offered to lend her a pair of matching lace gloves, but she declined.

I've purchased many elegant hats in perfect condition in Thrift or Consignment stores. However the one I lent Marie I bought on sale at Walmart. It had been a favorite of mine when my hair was red.

Last decade, I attended lots of formal Teas. But these accessories also made wonderful props for my speeches at Business Networking events. Besides, I LOVE hats!

And speaking of Teas, I collect teapots. Over the years I've acquired a variety of styles there, too! I have one that looks like a magic lamp, another a pumpkin, also a pineapple, one covered in vegetables, several in flowers, one with a butterfly handle, another featuring jungle animals, 2 Chinese, 1 Japanese, 1 that resembles a German stein, a huge colorful 1 shaped in Moroccan style , and many, many more! My prettiest ones are on my kitchen counter. I call them my parade of teapots.

Also I collect Faerie memorabilia along with pretty glass & ceramic eggs. Little faeries are scattered all over my house!

On my kitchen wall over the breakfast table I have a reproduction of the famous faerie painting Summer's Eve. It's directly across from the bay window looking thru the porch and onto my backyard. The view could be an extension of this scene. This picture was the first item I bought for the house with my own money. My father thought it a needless, impulsive purchase until he saw how well it fit in.

On a trip to a Thrift Store with a friend, we saw a collection of owls; ceramic, glass, & carved ones, numerous shelves of them; owls, owls, and more owls of all size and variety!

"Someone was a major collector and died!" my friend exclaimed. "Just look at all of those!"

"And their relatives probably were eager to dispose of them," I added. -- Well, that got me to thinking about the fate of MY precious collections after I'm gone.

Back in my 20's I started collecting unusual costume jewelry. All of these items are quite lovely! At age 40, I thought I'd leave them to the daughter of a close friend in High School, in memory of our friendship despite the fact our friendship deteriorated shortly after we started Junior College together.

Later, I happened to see a photo of her daughter in the newspaper along with an interview. (She won a major athletic completion!) Well, she was the most masculine looking and sounding 15 year old girl you could ever imagine! The only things missing from her photo were a spiked dog collar, a tattoo, and a cigar in her mouth! If that's her thing, whoopee for her, but it didn't solve my problem. She obviously was not the type to appreciate my jewelry!

Anyway, I've since legally willed my hats, jewelry, and accessories to the local Theatre Guild. One problem solved!

THE ME TOO BLUES

One of my favorite TV programs, The Great American Baking Show was pulled after only a few episodes because a judge was accused of sexual harassment. Why punish the audience, not to mention those star bakers whose talent has earned them the spotlight!!! All they had to do was replace the judge. Or if the show was pre-recorded just run a banner at the beginning of the program. Good grief!

A friend called 2017 The Year of the Pervert. She also calls The Great American Baking Show, Dianne's porn. She right on both counts!

Still I'm glad all these sexual harassment issues are finally coming to light. I've been there, just as every other woman!

However, I was fortunate during my 20's because I worked for my father. My dad was not the type to sexually harass or molest anyone. My father was quite a handsome man, often I watched women throw themselves at him!

He told me of 2 separate occasions where 2 different women (casual business associates) took him by surprise and planted a kiss directly on his mouth! He said he could never be attracted to either and resented this. Afterward, he distanced himself from them. So this is not just a female issue!!!

We had a number of salesmen drop in who were notorious huggers. Whenever I saw one heading straight for me I'd fold my arms and give them a look. They got the message!

But the workforce was a far better place than High School! There, I suffered EVERY form of harassment you can possibly imagine.

During my 40's my father showed me his class ring with pride. "I was always surprised that you never wanted one," he said.

I told him with disdain that I'd rather blot it from memory and have no reminders!

"But that's one the happiest times in life!" he replied with a chuckle.

"No," I stated. "It was the most miserable. I hated every second there!" I didn't even get into the sexual harassment due to embarrassment.  But I mentioned the snooty caste system and the numerous cliques.

"I can't believe that!" He huffed "It was nothing like that when I went to school!"

"I don't care how it was in your day. Believe me, I had very different experiences!" I stated matter-of-factly.

He gave me that I'm-sure-it-couldn't-have-been-that-bad look. Actually it was worse!!! I used to cringe every morning when the building came into view.

One of the boys who made my life a nightmare left school to serve in Vietnam. A middle school student at my bus stop was corresponding with him. I told her, "I hope he comes back in a box with dismembered pieces inside!" She was horrified and accused me of not supporting our troops. I told her it was just that one particular guy, and then I told her why.  

"Oh, but he's sooo sweet, I can't imagine him ever doing anything like that!" she said.

"So I'm a liar then! Were you there?" I replied. No matter what I said, I realized she would refuse to believe me. -- And she had never even met him in person! Ugh!

A few decades later, I learned this guy had become a Preacher! I don't believe for a minute he's changed. The creep has just found a perfect cover!

I had the misfortune of being forced to sit beside this slime bag in Science Class. He had a filthy mouth and wandering, grabby hands. The last row behind us was filled with boys who cheered him on and laughed. The entertainment at my expense! We had a male teacher who turned a blind eye to this. The class room was small, so I could never understand why he didn't notice! I thought teachers were supposed to have eyes in the back of their head. This one seemed to be blind!

I couldn't turn to my parents because I feared my father would maim or murder the boy and I didn't want my dad going to prison. My mother was now a paranoid schizophrenic living in the Twilight Zone. Also I was mortified to verbalize it.

Finally, I went to the Guidance Counselor and told her I wanted to be transferred out of that class. Deeply embarrassment and in tears, I gave her the reason why! I remember she lowered her eyes and smirked as if I'd just told her a dirty joke. She then stated it wasn't a serious enough reason for a transfer. I was in disbelief!!!

I was never going back there! I informed her that I would be skipping class.

"Then you will be expelled," she replied with a cold stare.

I didn't care, I told her!

Then, I decided I would go back. But first, I'd buy a switchblade. And I was fully prepared to use it! By then, I didn't care if I went to jail. I had run out of options. I was desperate!

During my last period class a messenger came and I was handed a note. I gave a big sigh of relief! The Guidance Counselor had changed her mind. My transfer was granted. I was out of there!

Up until then I was a chronic nail biter. Immediately I made the decision to stop. And I never weakened, not once. I swore that if anyone ever did those things to me again I'd leave a mark on their face that would last a lifetime. Or I'd shove my thumb deep into their throat! Fortunately, during my senior year, no one harassed me, at least not sexually.

People often admire my long, beautiful fingernails. They came about because of a loathsome troglodyte back in Science Class!