The Time Capsule: Tattoos, Groucho Marx, and Lydia
In the checkout line of a local grocery I found myself standing behind an extra-large woman. She was, even on a chilly day, short on clothes but long on tattoos.
Expanses of skin were covered with graphics (some would say art) ranging from simple (a rose and initials) to the complex (a serpent coiled around one thigh, a dragon across her back, an intricate and colorful pattern the length of her forearm).
I was reminded of Groucho Marx, Peter Hulsebus, a lady named Lydia, and a song written before its time.
Lydia, oh Lydia, that encyclopedia/Oh Lydia, the Queen of Tattoo
On her back is the Battle of Waterloo/Beside it the wreck of the Hesperus, too
And proudly above waves the red, white and blue/You can learn a lot from Lydia
Hulsebus, the son of German immigrants who settled in southwest Iowa in the 1870s, became a devout Groucho Marx fan. He saw the movies, listened to the radio programs. When both he and Groucho, who were about the same age, were growing older Hulsebus bought his first television because the quiz show “You Bet Your Life” was going to live TV.
If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, Groucho Marx had few equals. “MASH” was noted for the Hawkeye parodies of Groucho. Alan Alda’s character liked to dress like Groucho, spout Groucho lines (“Either my watch stopped or you’re dead” and, in another episode: “Wait—what’s that strange pulsing in your wrist?”).
Groucho imitators, some said, were better than the original. Frank Sinatra disagreed, noting that the only thing he could do better than Groucho was sing—and Groucho had never taken lessons. Sinatra left “Lydia” to the man who made it famous.
Pete Hulsebus wasn’t the type to sing along, but he knew the Groucho songs. His wife did not. While Floy and Pete were a loving couple, she had her domain and he had his. He farmed, dealt in horses, went to another room in the evening to read westerns or listen to the radio programs he liked. Floy managed the house, the garden, and took the lead in raising their daughters. Her entertainment preferences went to romantic movies and soap operas. She had her own radio. She neither watched, nor listened, to anything Groucho.
And so their fourth daughter was born. Peter suggested the name--Lydia.
When her robe is unfurled/She will show you the world/If you step up and show her where
For a dime you can see Kankakee or Paree/Or Washington crossing the Delaware
Floy thought “Lydia” was a nice name, and it was done. Family folklore has it that a day came when Floy happened to hear the song.
Lydia, oh Lydia, that encyclopedia/Oh Lydia the Queen of them all
She once swept an Admiral clean off of his feet/The ships on her hips made his heart skip a beat. . .
Grandma Floy heard enough to feel she’d been duped, and didn’t find it funny. She began calling little Lydia by her middle name. She insisted everyone else do likewise.
Decades later, then a widow, Laverne Marshall moved to Montgomery County. She was active in the church, did volunteer work, made numerous friends. I doubt any of them, except her lawyer, knew mom’s real first name. She was Lydia—without the tattoos.
Roy Marshall is a local historian and columnist for the Red Oak Express. He can be contacted at news@redoakexpress.com.