"Uchhh, You Look Like a Cow"

Last week, while I was heading into the city on the L to get my monkeys from school, I was reminded of my maternal grandmother, M.K.. As I leaned against the door, my eyes drifted about the crowded train car; I spied something very odd and somewhat remarkable-- a rather large herd of people chomping away on gum. Not one or two narcoleptic gum chewers, but a head count of at least seven. Not a soft nibbling of gum behind closed lips, but a mouth wide open, lip slopping, teeth gnashing, tongue rolling kind of chew. The kind of chewing that might cause 'one' to compare another to a cow. That 'one' being my Baba; she had a sweet tooth to rival all sweet tooth's. She was clearly born with a Goldberg Peanut Chew in one hand, and a See's milk chocolate butter cream in the other. Her freezer was always packed with ice cream, candy dishes (overflowing) littered her home, in her purse was a tiny arsenal of treats, and she even had a stash of Goldberg’s in the top drawer of her dresser where she kept her stockings. What she didn't have tho, ever, as in NEVER, was gum. She loathed it. I never asked her why, but I think she felt it a lower class habit. Having come from a shanty-Irish family in Upper Darby, PA, she worked hard to separate herself from her lower class beginnings, which she was able to do because she was very bright, jaw dropingly stunning, and most importantly, she did not chew gum. My brother and I appreciated all of the goodies she put out for us on our visits, but we also had a thing for gum--breaking our jaws with Bazooka, puffing on 'cigars', nibbling bottle caps and chiclets fruit flavored...the gum from underneath the table at the Diner (don't deny you never tried it). We just adored the junk. Whenever our Baba got an eyeful of us with our mouths full, she would pull a face and mutter "uchhhh, what are you chewing on? You both look like cows." We would snort and go on our cud chewing way. I still enjoy gum; orbit mint mojito gum in particular is my current fave. But I have to say, during that mohhhhsey of a train ride under the river, having nowhere to look but deep into the mouths of that gum smacking herd, I finally understood my Baba's disdain, because inside of my head, until I was able to flee the cattle car, was, "Oh yuck! shut your mouths, shut your mouths, shut your mouths, you look like effing cows!"