Batman and the Babysitter

In 1966, I was eight years old. LBJ was still president; the Vietnam War was ramping up; the Summer of Love was two years away; and "na na na na na na na na Batman!" was Adam West. BAM! POW! ZAP!

Gussie was my baby-sitter that year. She wore hair in a style reminiscent of Bettie Page, if Bettie Page invested heavily in peroxide and henna. I remember her as being larger than life but the black and white photograph I have of her shows a small woman, not much taller than the eight year old girl standing beside her.

Another picture taken about the same time shows my little sister, seven at the time, clutching a pencil, wrapped with a length of string, a diaper pin tied to the end, "fishing" in Gussie's aquarium. Gussie's hand can be seen in the picture, nails lacquered some dark color, the ever-present Newport cigarette she chain smoked held between two fingers. Her face isn't visible, but I'm sure she was smiling as broadly as her charges.

Gussie taught me how to play pick up sticks and was a champion at jacks. Her prowess with that bouncy red ball and those metal jacks probably had more to do with the distractability of little girls than any innate ability. She gave me free reign over stacks and stacks of "True Story", "True Confessions" and "Screenplay" magazines and so introduced me to the wonders of reading something just a little bit "naughty". She had no qualms about sharing her collection with a voracious young reader, even though that reader should have been spending her time with Dick and Jane.

The connection between my babysitter and Batman? Gussie was the sister-in-law of the actor who played Commissioner Gordon on the television series. In the lexicon of the popular pastime, this was merely four degrees of separation between Batman and me, a source of awe with the single-digit set on the school playground. I practically knew Batman.

A kiss from the good little witch.