A group I belong to selected this writing prompt for the month of June: “Things I Know to Be True.” You’d think at my advanced age, I could rattle off a few, but I am terrified to commit any of my “truths” to paper because, beets. Yes, beets.
Until about ten years ago, I “knew” that I hated beets. I’d never actually tasted a beet, mind you, but in forty-some years of living I’d never had occasion to revisit my childhood belief that beets were slices of vampire heart. At least not until I was held captive at a three-day conference where the lunches were meager and the dinner entrees took forever to be served. By the final evening, with only a salad plate of Vlad the Impaler’s heart standing between me and starvation, I broke down and took a bite. My so-called truth dissolved into deliciousness right then and there. It turns out I really like beets.
Now, I might be inclined to dismiss the beets issue as an amusing holdover from childhood that managed to bypass adult re-evaluation if it were an isolated incident, but it’s not. Check out these two stunning examples of adult asleep-at-the-wheel syndrome, from which I apparently suffer.
1. I believed those were real monkeys in The Wizard of Oz.
Okay, you probably did too…when you were eight. I was in my early thirties before the light bulb went on for me. I first saw The Wizard of Oz when I was in first grade and even though on the whole I loved it, I never watched it again for the rest of my childhood because the Wicked Witch’s monkey henchmen had so traumatized me. More than two decades passed before I re-examined the monkeys through the lens of adulthood when I bought the VHS tape for my daughter’s eighth birthday. As I was wrapping it, I actually said to my husband, “Looking back now, I’m amazed those monkeys could be trained to do all those things.” My husband laughed, thinking that I was being facetious, and only at that very moment did I realize that, of course, the monkeys were not monkeys at all, but people in costumes. (And some darn convincing pre-Planet of the Apes make up, in my opinion.)
2. I believed a blade of grass could break through concrete in its quest to find sunlight.
One day when I was a little girl, I was standing outside with my father as he stooped down to examine a crack in the sidewalk. A slender sprig of grass had sprouted right in the middle of the crack. Pulling it out, he smiled up at me and said, “Can you believe a little blade of grass broke this hard concrete?” Not only did I believe it then, I continued to believe it until last summer. In an instance of delayed déjà vu, my husband stooped down to examine a crack in our driveway. As he pulled up the few shoots of grass growing there, I repeated the words my father had spoken to me so many years before. Different husband this time, but the same response—he laughed, thinking I was joking. Half a second later, it dawned on me that, of course, the crack preceded the grass, not vice versa. (Grass, however determined, does not actually possess superhero strength.)
I’m shaking my head right along with you, wondering how I could have thought such absurd things for so long. But, the key point here is that I hadn’t actively thought them all that time. My initial (erroneous) beliefs were formed in childhood and then lay dormant in the deep recesses of my mind. They flew under the radar of conscious thought for years, just waiting for an opportunity to spring forth and publicly humiliate me. So you can see why I’m reluctant to proclaim with any real conviction the “things I know to be true.” And maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Maybe the only thing I really know to be true is that we need to re-examine our long-held and deep, dark “truths” from time to time to see if they hold up when exposed to the light. Especially ones like, “All people from ______ are ______.” Or “If you ______, you are a ______ person.” Or how about “My child would never ______.”
I hope I don’t have any half-baked notions of the hurtful variety tucked away in some mental closet, but I plan to remain vigilant about rooting them out just in case. In the meantime, I will leave you with this one truth that experience has unfortunately shown me is 100% valid: Stretch marks are forever. And, bonus truth here, so is cellulite.
I have to run now because I’m expecting a couple flying monkeys for lunch and I haven’t finished making the beet salad yet!
Love, love, LOVE this! What a powerful message cloaked in your inimitable humor and ability to laugh at yourself.
Thanks so much, Roxanne. My mind is a scary place! 🙂
I totally was traumatized by those monkeys, too! Also, I hate beets and I always will. Great post, Lee!
Are you SURE you don’t like beets or do you just THINK you are sure you don’t like them? 🙂 I saw The wizard of Oz on the IMAX screen a couple years ago and it was so great. But, I’m telling you, those monkeys still looked pretty real to me! Thanks for stopping by, Helene!
Delightful! LOVE beets!
I know! I love red ones and yellow ones, roasted, toasted and broasted ones! If you can’t “beet” ’em… 😉
For me the beet was a gateway vegetable leading me straight to turnip, so I’ll be forever grateful I took that first bite of beet, since I LOVE turnip. Here’s the truth about you, Lee, I love that you believed all these things. I was terrified of the monkeys and couldn’t watch that movie all the way through until I was an adult. And I’m shocked that grass can’t actually push up pavement. I believe that there have been dandelions that have achieved this feat of strength up here in Maine. As far as my cellulite, I’ve been quite attached to it since my mother earned her stretch marks birthing me. XOXO
See, Molly, you have gotten yourself tangled up with a just-this-side-of-stable nutball. There’s still time to save yourself, run from me! But I hope you don’t! XO
Most foods I hated as a child or thought I did, were poorly cooked. Most vegetables are delicious if you cook them correctly and don’t get them from a can.
Great post, love the final message!
b
I agree. I love vegetables, but I was a little late to the party on the beets. Also, you’re right, no canned ones, goo. Thanks, Barbara!
I am now going to spend my day trying to figure out if I thought those monkeys were real or not (leaning towards did believe).
Also, beets suck! Unless pickled the way my Grandmother makes them 🙂
And I think the blade of grass busting through the concrete is the most wonderfully optimistic thing I have heard in a while. Why can’t we all look at things that way?
True confession–I may have even used that grass thing as an inspirational metaphor sometime. Now, I’m embarrassed to think how people must have been pitying my naivete! But, hey, tree roots CAN upheave your whole driveway and sidewalk, so there, nonbelievers!
I think I hate beets too (having never tried them personally). I also HATED brussel sprouts with a passion until a friend forced me to try some at a local restaurant – now I’m in love with them. Wonderful point about not cementing your beliefs so quickly (or ever) – we are ever evolving and changing, and our belief systems should as well.
Boy, you sure were a pushover! Those monkeys–chill inducing. Beets are good. But oh for the child-like innocence we used to have. Oh for that!
I know. I’m glad I don’t have to fear the monkeys, but to be able to have that kind of belief again…Guess I’ll roast some beets now. 🙂
The monkeys! Could have been worse – at least you weren’t wondering how they found a scarecrow that could learn its lines! I agree about the risks of conclusively claiming you know things to be true. (Though I am prepared to conclusively claim that I know those were not real monkeys. Nailing my colours to the mast on that one!)
Well, if you want to go out on a limb like that with the monkey thing, it’s your funeral. 😉
My sister was always afraid of those monkeys too! She also feared Ralph the Elf. He was a mascot for McDonald’s in our area, and he would come and make visits with the kids on occasion. I recall having to flee the Golden Arches one afternoon because my sis screamed so violently at the poor little man. Ha ha! I love your writing, by the way. You’ve got a great style and sense of humor. Thank you!
Poor Ralph, that’s hilarious! The notions we get into our heads when we’re kids. I was trying to make my daughter feel safe when I tucked her in and told her the angels were watching her. That completely freaked her out and her response has become a classic in our family. She steeled her body as if against a great threat and ordered (the angels), “If you’re here, show yourselves!” She wanted to know who she was up against. 🙂
Man oh man, what lurks in our childhood minds. If only reality would keep its ugly head down so we could live in the ignorant bliss of the ideas formed as children. Canned beets are hideous. Then I tried roasted yellow beets–heaven on a fork! And the winged monkeys are simply mis-understood.
Misunderstood monkeys, that’s golden! Thanks for stopping by, Terri, and giving me a good laugh! And, yes, roasted is the way to go with the beets!
I love this—too funny! The beet comment reminds me of “Green Eggs and Ham.”
I might even eat those now, Marcia. with beets, of course!