The Angle of the Dangle
Smith College the 1930s:Fire Drill/Escape the Burning Dormitory Trick
These gadgets were still in use when I got to Smith, just moments before college kids everywhere exploded into the flesh-baring, headband-wearing joy of the youth movement.
The girls in the picture are just 18, whether they look it or not. That’s when you had to do: take the Escape from Your Burning Dorm Room test as a freshman just a few weeks in. They look like they’re trying to hang themselves eh? Some of them look like they’re even OK with the idea.
I used this title just to be fresh of course but when I first typed it I wrote “angel” instead of “angle” which made me wonder if I should call this 'Angels in Danger', or maybe 'Angels Descending' and there’s my problem right there: I never know who’s going to be talking when I open my mouth, either that nice girl with the white gloves who started at Smith in 1966 or this crazy person who in talking about life with small children says the word 'penis' twice in front of an audience of kindly women in beautiful sundresses.
That’s what I did yesterday when I was the speaker at a luncheon put on for the members of the Winchester Boat Club. I guess there were 125 of 150 of them there, all in lovely sundresses and little shawls. Out of respect I wanted to dress beautifully too and at first put on a few killer outfits only to think Who are you, the bride? What is this, a short story by William Faulkner? I stopped then and called darling Ryan Dunn to wake him up, Ryan who helps me with much of my business life- only being just 19, Ryan was of course still sound asleep with his cell phone off. I thought “Be calm Terry.” Also “DON’T be a show-off with these fancy outfits" and so wore black slacks and a blazer and looked instead like a matron in a women’s prison but that was ok; we are meant to set self-consciousness aside are we not?
I really was getting a little panicked now about who would help me lug in the all my books which I had been graciously invited to offer for sale after the talk. I called Ryan four more times, then dialed up his dad at work who called their famous neighbor Bob Bigelow who walked straight into the house, straight into Ryan’s very room adn yelled TERRY MAROTTA NEEDS YOU AT THE BOAT CLUB GET UP I'LL GIVE YOU A RIDE and if you don't think getting yanked into wakefulness by a six-foot-seven former Boston Celtic isn't scary, well talk to Ryan.
The day went great anyway and the women laughed as I talked about all the fun we can have in life and also how we might die any day, all of it mixed in together as is usual with me. It's just my standard mode of expression I think, Funny With Death in it, Deathy With Fun in it. And right at the end one of the men that works there came shyly up for some small talk.
He told me his wife is about to have their fourth child who was pretty sure coming early. He also said that his dad had just died and his mom was feeling a little rocky and when he said that his own voice caught just a little. He ended up choosing the book with all the comical stories about small children in it and also the collection whose central message is that that OK sure maybe everything does die but then it all comes back again if you look at it the right way. Then he and his men helped Ryan and me get all our stuff back into my little red minivan and we drove away and the skies opened and the rained drummed like crazy on the hot asphalt and I felt about as happy as a person can feel, with angels descending all around her.
(and this is Ryan, who finally woke up and was wonderful)
