While it's just awful to send an adult magazine to a nine year old (see
previous post), I always wonder what would have happened if my Anyu and aunt would have just sat me down and actually told me about the birds and the bees. (Actually, I'm still waiting for that conversation, ha!)
My friend Andrew has a similar story about accidentally discovering porn one day...but he didn't have Anyu to stop him (...and hilarity ensued) If any American Goulash readers are near New York, it's definitely worth grabbing tickets to see this coming of age story....LIVE! I suggest buying tickets in advance, as this is a limited engagement and his last few shows have sold out:
www.TheAccidentalPervert.com
Accidental Pervert Trailer
With permission, I'm posting Steven Ormosi's story about his "Goulash" experience:
Your videos and stories remind me of my own Grandmother. She was always Grandma to me, not Nagymama, though naggy might describe her well:
"Where is your girlfriend?"
"I don't have one."
"Here is more chicken."
"I've already had two helpings!"
"You have to love your brother."
"...What? I do."
"Ok",
"...").
My Grandmother would dote on us, which was great because mom wouldn't let us drink soda or eat unhealthy cereal at home. She once gave me so much food while I was over there that I puked...ugh, I still can't eat sour cream and onion potato chips. I think I gained about 100 lbs as a direct result of them moving to NJ.
She was just as anal about everything being in the right place as your Nagymama is. She would constantly rove the living room and kitchen, fixing any little inconsistency, picking up bits of lint or string or what have you. Clearing dishes, as soon as the last morsel was picked off the plate. She was a whirling dervish.
Nichole Remmert writes:
Hi there - I love your blog and tweets; I remember bits of my own childhood when I read your stuff.
My own nagymama died before I ever knew her, when my mom was just 14. Her father was always at work (and not Hungarian), and The Uncles (her mother's brothers) saw to it that she would be raised a good little Magyar. My mother was rebellious though, and when The Uncles would tell her she wasn't behaving to their standards, she'd bait them saying that we were, "... nothing but a bunch of gypsies..." THE HORROR! (in reality, the family was nemes - noble - and The Uncles were fiercely proud; so much so that even eating corn was rebellious for my mother, as she'd grown up forbidden to eat such peasant foods).
Funny how people become their parents (or in this case, their Uncles) when they have children of their own. While mom remained a fan of corn, I was always sternly warned that if I wandered off, I'd be captured by wild bands of gypsies, who'd kidnap me...
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This Month's Featured Post: Kristine
Kristine's tale of what happened when her grandmother got called into jury duty not long after she officially retired from nursing.
