I’ll Be Home, by Martha Thomases – Brilliant Disguise | @MDWorld

October 10, 2015 Victor El-Khouri 5 Comments

My son, the genius, has a fantastic girlfriend.  Not only is she smart and funny and interesting to talk to, but she makes him happy.  Oh, and she got us free tickets to see Randy Newman at UCLA.

I love Randy Newman.

I have loved Randy Newman for close to 50 years.  I first saw him perform in 1973, I think, and even got to talk to him a bit because my then-boyfriend was the audio-tech.  If my memory is correct, I made a total idiot out of myself.  That’s how much I loved him.

Anyway, the UCLA concert was lovely, and he sang one of my favorite songs, “Dixie Flyer”  It’s about leaving LA with his mom when he was little, going to New Orleans to stay with her family while his father was in the war.  Mom’s family came to pick them up at the train station.

“Drinkin’ rye whiskey from a flask in the back seat

Tryin’ to do like the Gentiles do

Christ, they wanted to be Gentiles, too.

Who wouldn’t down there, wouldn’t you?”

It’s a song about wanting to fit in.  I get that.  The night before, when we were out to dinner, we had seen a group of women at the bar.  There were five or six of them, and each one was about five feet, seven inches tall, with blonde hair, cute figure, little black dresses and high heels.  They could have all been made by a 3-D printer.

We all want to fit in, kids especially.  My mom grew up in a town where hers was one of the only Jewish families.  The German-American Bund would march around on the weekend.  She wanted to be like her friends, with Christmas trees and a last name like “Johnson.”

When I was five, she said I shouldn’t worry.  When I grew up, we would get my nose fixed.

I went to an Episcopalian boarding school, a Jewish kid from Ohio around a bunch of WASPs from (mostly) Connecticut, New York and New Jersey.  I had to go to chapel five times a week.  I could handle that.  What was weird was being a dumpy loudmouth who loved Lenny Bruce among a bunch of blonde girls with slim hips.

(Note:  That was my first impression.  As I stayed there longer, I of course noticed that my classmates were each unique individuals, with their own individual insecurities.  Also, I still love quite a few of them.)

There was no way I was going to be able to pass for a slim-hipped blonde WASP.  I never tried.  I learned to embrace my differences because there was no other choice.  Now, nearly 50 years later, I hardly ever compare myself to other people.

It has taken every minute of those decades to get to this place, and I could backtrack entirely tomorrow.  Luckily, I don’t live in a city where the only attractive people are the same height, color, age or body type.  Even-more-luckily, I don’t live a life dependent on my looks.  As a writer, I can be old and cantankorous and hang out in my jammies.

There is no way to say these things to my younger self.  The next-best thing I can do is say them to you.

We don’t have to “do like the Gentiles do.”  If we do, we don’t get to have Randy Newman.

Martha Thomases, Media Goddess, never did get that nose job.