Pardon the phrase from one of my fave sitcoms, How I Met Your Mother. But mention the name Charlton Heston and images literally of Biblical proportions come to mind. I remember as a child my Puo-Puo (maternal grandmother) would come visit us and every Easter we would gather around the television with her and watch Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments. This family tradition continued for years. In fact, it just didn’t feel like Easter without a serving of Charlton Heston, oiled up in a loin cloth and shackled in chains (who knew the Bible could be so sexy?), followed by some super-poofy white flowing hair and a tapestry red robe as the Lord’s anointed. (Although I later learned that Puo-Puo actually had more of a thing for Yul Brynner. We also watched The King and I countless times as children.)
With Heston comes a sentimental remembrance of an era gone by, where as innocent children we roamed the streets on our bikes, played outside unsupervised, ate dinner as a family, watched family-friendly programming that lasted until 9 p.m.. I suppose he represents the warmth, love and security I felt as a child. I felt saddened to hear of his passing on Saturday night. When I told my mom yesterday, she cried out, “Oh no! He died?” I knew she shared the same sentiments as me.
Mention the name Charlton Heston and you probably think of Ben Hur, Bible movies, overacting, NRA, Conservative. But as for me, his name will forever conjure the image of my Grandma and my family surrounding the TV, watching Moses part the Red Sea.
Last night I dreamed I had won a trip to Jamaica. Imagine the “joy” I felt this morning when I awoke to 30 degrees and snow. Blech. Snow is desirable in December, acceptable in January, and unwelcome by April. Actually, if I could go anywhere, I would choose Tahiti and New Zealand.
Last week I sent my son with some oranges to the neighbors’ who live three doors down. As I stood by the door, unseen, watching him skip along the sidewalk, I noticed a minivan. White, black molding along the door, older mid-90’s model, rounded back like a Dodge Caravan. It caught my eye because most cars cruise our street between 30-45 mph and we are constantly complaining to the city. This vehicle, however, was going less than 15 mph. I noticed the driver, a heavy set man, turn his head and watch my son. My initial thought was, “Hmmm. That’s weird. Why is he watching my son?” I stepped down the stairs of my front porch and noticed the driver look back, see me, and casually drive up the street. The way he sensed me and drove off was chilling. He turned left at the sign, as though heading up towards the elementary school. Well, maybe he’s picking up one of his kids…it was around 3:50. Right when school gets out. I stood out there for another few minutes. As I waited for my son to skip back home, I saw this same minivan drive the opposite direction, headed out of the subdivision. There was no way he could have driven to school to pick up someone in less than 3 minutes. It may only be a hunch, or mother’s intuition, but I believe I saw a monster trolling our neighborhood for kids.
As I type this, I want to vomit. I am sickened by the evil, sickened with fear for the safety of my children. But I am going to take action. I have been notifying neighbors to keep alert and watch for unfamiliar vehicles. (We live clear in BFE. You don’t drive through our subdivision to get to a store.) I am going to call the police department and report it, though it may do nothing. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a license plate number. It happened within seconds and by the time I thought to look at his plate, he was up the street and gone. If any of my neighbors read this, please pass it along. We have to keep alert and stay vigilant. The world is a different place now compared to the time when we were young and carefree. Gone are the days where children can freely ride bikes or run around their neighborhoods, left unattended. There is a naiveté that exists in this bucolic little suburb, seemingly removed from the busy world. Children play outside, while parents watch from windows. Don’t think that it couldn’t happen to you in this neighborhood. Because it can, if you’re not watching. I shudder to think what could have happened if I wasn’t outside watching. It only took seconds. We must be wary, we must stay vigilant, for the sake of our children.
