Monday, January 11, 2010
12:27 AM
My First Celeb Crush
This episode came on television tonight. It's one of my all-time favorite Brady moments. I was SO in love with Davy Jones when I was in 1st and 2nd grade!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
8:35 AM
101 Dalmatians
One of my very favorite Disney movies was (and still is) 101 Dalmatians. My mom took me to see it when I was about 8 or 9 and I fell completely in love with it. Given the fact that I was born loving puppies, that was not surprising. I enjoyed the movie SO much and wished that I could see it over and over and over again. There were no $19.96 dvd copies of our favorite movies in those days which is just as well because there also were no dvd players or even vcr players, for that matter. That sort of technology was still a decade away and really, at that time, we didn't even know it was realistic to dream of owning such things in our lifetime.
Therefore, I was very excited a few weeks after seeing the movie when I ran across the movie's LP at the library. That certainly wasn't as cool as being able to watch the movie in my own home of course, but for that era, it was awesome, just the same. I checked it out immediately, went straight home, and put the LP on my record player and settled in to listen to the entire movie, dialogue AND music. Because I had already seen the movie, I had no trouble closing my eyes and envisioning all of the scenes. I got completely swept up in the story as though it were brand new again and had one of the best afternoons ever.
7:27 AM
Ft. Apache
Bernie had one this Ft. Apache when we were kids. He played with it all of the time. I liked playing with it, too. I don't know what it was about the design of this particular fort but something really drew me in. I wasn't even really a cowboys and Indians kind of kid but I thought this play set was really cool so when Bernie went to school, I often slipped into his room and played with it. lol
6:30 AM
Silly Sand
I got this for my birthday when I was about 5 or so. I was so excited to get it. I don't think I ever did learn how to make it work exactly the way it was supposed to but I did make it work some and I had a ball with it. This is one of many, many toys I had that seemed almost magical to me when I was little and because of that, I still get that special feeling inside today when I am reminded of it. Toys were rarely just toys to Bernie and me. Each new one was an amazing, fantasy adventure as far as we were concerned. Our parents always got their money's worth when they bought our toys. We made the most of them and we held onto them for as long as we possibly could. Prince Kit was pretty much the same way when he was a boy. None of us have ever outgrown our love for toys. I think we all missed our calling. We should open a vintage toy shop together. There's just one problem. We'd never make any money because we'd never want to part with any of the cool stuff we found. lol
5:56 AM
Sometimes Candy Bars Make Me Cry
The Hershey Milk Chocolate Bar has forever been my favorite candy bar of all. Just looking at this picture makes my chocolate-loving mouth start to salivate. lol (ice cold from the fridge is my favorite) But, as with all things I post here, this candy bar also brings back warm childhood memories, the most significant of which is the famous Bernie and Maddie Christmas Candy Bar-Related Story. : )
I have a very vivid memory of my mom buying a 6-pack of these candy bars for us one December, which, to us kids, was a very, very big deal. Six candy bars all at once, meaning three each? Yes, please. : )
Now, the candy bar didn't really have anything to do with the memory it inspires, at least not directly. But it's a part of it just the same.
One night, while Bernie and I were in the living room watching Green Acres on television, my mom told us she was going to wrap some more of our presents. Bernie and I LOVED the way my mom would wrap something new every single day during December so that every day when we got home from school, there would always be something new under the tree. So when our mom would also wrap yet MORE presents in the evening, we got REALLY excited. Bernie was better at hiding his exuberance than I was. I would always spaz out which made my high-strung mom crazy. lol So that particular night, she used those Hershey bars in the fridge to bribe me under control. lol She told us we could each have a candy bar if we agreed to stay in the living room so she could do her wrapping without one of us sneaking back there to take a peek. I was dying for one of those ice cold candy bars so I quickly agreed. Bernie, always the tricky one, also took a candy bar but he figured out a way to have his candy and eat it too, so so speak. lol
We sat in there watching Green Acres, listening to the sounds of mom wrapping gifts. We could hear the paper rattle and we could hear the tape being ripped off of the roll. Back then, she used the kind of bows that poked through the boxes, rather than bows that had to be taped on, so we had learned to listen through the whole process so that we'd know when she was finished with each package. I would slip down the hall as far as I could without being detected to see if I could catch a glimpse of the gifts pre-wrapping stage. But once I heard that bow pop on, I knew I had only seconds to get back into the living room before she caught me and "took the gift back to the store", which was always the threat she made but never followed through on. LOL Bernie played it cool, though. Of course, he wanted to know if I saw anything while peeking but he wasn't prone to settling for only that. Bernie was braver than me when it came to the Christmas peeking game. As a result, he usually knew everything that he and I were getting long before Christmas Eve. lol
So that night, Bernie sat quietly and patiently in the chair in front of the t.v. (which also gave him the best view of our parent's room, and waited for his opportunities. As soon as mom would drop a couple of newly-wrapped gifts off under the tree and head back to her bedroom to do more, he's listen carefully for the sound of more wrapping paper. Once he heard that, he knew she would be busy for at least 4 or 5 minutes wrapping another gift because she was a perfectionist when it came to wrapping and she took pride in her work. She still does. lol As soon as he heard that, he would jump down, grab his newest gift, and as quick as a jackrabbit, he would carefully and meticulously remove a piece of tape so that he could peek inside and see enough to know what was inside. Then, he would masterfully press the tape back onto the precise place it had been before and put the gift back where mom had left it. Before she could get back into the living room with anothe gift, he would already be back up in his chair, looking as though he hadn't budged all night. LOL I don't know how he did that but the whole scenario used to fascinate me to no end. LOL
Not a Christmas has gone by since I reached adulthood, that I haven't thought of that night. I also think about it every time I see a Hershey bar. Those are the priceless, innocent times you can never get back. Once they're gone, they're gone. But that doesn't stop me from remembering and wishing every time the season rolls back around. Once upon a time, there was a sweet little family who lived in a cute little brown and white house on M****** Street. They made a lot of memories, cried a lot of tears, laughed a lot of laughs, and dreamed a lot of dreams. Somewhere along the way, they got separated and lost. So the littlest one prayed every night, and hoped that they'd all find one another again before the clock stuck midnight and their dance upon this earth was done. But sometimes, all the love in the world is just not quite enough to get you home.
We miss you, Daddy. And we're so thankful that you're still here, Mama.
Please don't ever go away. Your kids adore you and there'll never, come a time when we don't need you.
From my blog, to God's ears.
Friday, January 8, 2010
8:39 PM
Santa Mugs and Kid Politics
Ralph and Pokie always had a set of these Santa Claus mugs setting up in the cabinet above their breakfast bar. Whenever I would sit down there to have a meal or a snack, I would stare at those mugs because I loved them to much. I've always been crazy about anything Christmas-related so I homed in on those sort of things always. Pokie would never let me use them unless it was Christmas time, of course, so I eagerly waited all year every year to get to drink some hot chocolate out of one of those Santa mugs. lol
I loved pretty much everything about the E's house. They had a pool with a slide. Always a win in my book because I have always loved swimming almost as much as I love Christmas and that's saying a lot! lol That house also had a very cozy den that you stepped down into from the living room/kitchen area. Thay den had a built-in bar which was great for hosting parties and the square dance club had lots of parties! (Kid-friendly ones) The house also had a HUGE living room, three large bedrooms, three bathrooms, all blue tyle in two of those, which I loved, and a sunken bathtub that was so deep that if you filled it to the top, the water would have been over my head standing at that time. It was AWESOME and I've always wanted one just like it.
They also had a circular drive which was a new concept to me back then and I always thought it would be great fun to ride my bike or skateboard up, down, and around it. There was always a car parked in our driveway so the idea of having so much extra cement to play on was enviable to me.
The square dance group eventually disbanded abd we stopped going over to the E's house though they remained friends. I've never stopped missing the good times my family and I had over there though. Ay Christmas time, I especially miss the fun that mom, dad, Bernie, and I had over there.
The only negative memories I have of being over there? David and Bernie would never let me play with them! lolol I was just the pesky little sister because I was so much younger than them. They were SO mean to me! lol I laugh about it now though. And I don't lay the blame on them. If I were to blame anyone, it would be the adults who failed to teach them how to be tender and patient with annoying little girls like me who just wanted to play because I looked up to them and was irresistably fascinated by everything they did. lol 11 year old little boys do not know on their own, that the 4 year old kid sister who is following him everywhere is doing so because she thinks he hung the moon.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
11:44 PM
Banana Splits Costume and Contest
The Banana Splits halloween costume which I wore one year. I loved them SO much! Recently, I found some old episodes on youtube and excitedly carved out some time to sit and watch them for old time's sake. Sadly, this is one children's show that didn't retain the magic for me. I still get that special feeling when I see pictures of them, etc. but the actual show bored me to tears and I couldn't figure out why I was so crazy about them when I was little. lol I still love the Brady Bunch, etc. even though I'm older now. I have no idea why the same isn't true for this show. Still I love remembering them and the way I loved them back when I was too young to realize how utterly stupid their show really was. lol
Related Memory: One morning just before school was about to start for the year, I was playing over at Jeff's house when a call came through to their house from the radio station. They were calling to tell Jeff's brother, Mark that he had won a Banana Splits contest they were running. We were all so excited for him. None of us kids had ever won anything from a radio station before so it was an especially big deal. But then, the icing on the cake was that he won the Banana Splits contest which meant that he won all kinds of really cool, one-of-a-kind Banana Splits mechandise. I don't remember all of the items that he won though I do remember that I loved all of them and searched all over town afterwards hoping to find similar items. Of course, what I didn't understand then was that the things Mark had won were promotional items so they couldn't be found in any store, anywhere. Bummer. The one thing he received that I remember the most is the super cool white 3-ring binder with a built-in pencil holder. It had a picture of the Banana Splits on it. That was the neatest 3-ring binder I had ever seen and I wanted one like it so bad that I could barely see straight! lol I never found one, though. Because I didn't understand how radio contests worked, I hoped for the next several months that I too would get a call from the radio station saying I had won the Banana Splits gifts. I didn't get that Mark had entered a one-time only contest so I made a mad dash to beat everyone in my house to the phone for the next several months until I finally realized I was waiting for a call that wasn't ever going to come. lol But every time I see something related to the Banana Splits today, some childlike part of me STILL hopes it might happen. How crazy is that? LOL
9:13 PM
My Beloved Athletic Bag
At the beginning of my 8th grade year, we basketball players were told that we would need to get athletic travel bags. I can't begin to tell you how excited I was about that. I wanted one of these bags so much! So of course, I excitedly told my mom about my coach's instructions as soon as I got home that afternoon. She agreed to take me to LOOK at the bags and price them. When we pulled up in front of Diamond Sports (my absolute favorite store in the world at that time!), I started to jump out, only to be abruptly stopped by my mom. She informed me that she would be going in alone. I hotly protested of course, only to find my protestations met with her perpetual ace in the hole parental maneuver: "Either you sit your a** in this car, or I drive away and we don't even look at the damned bag."
Alrighty then.
So my mom went in alone, staying about 15 minutes, and then emerged from the store carrying a square box. Since I had never seen an athletic bag packaged in a box, my heart sank. Even though she told me that we were only pricing the bag that day, I had greatly hoped that she would go ahead and purchase the bag that day for me, as the start of basketball season was just days away. When she got to the car, I asked her if my bag was in the box but I really, truly didn't think it was because the box didn't look big enough to hold the bag I needed. She snapped at me and told me to leave the box alone because it was a set of glasses that she was planning to give to granny mom for Christmas. I don't know why I fell for that but I really did and I was heartbroken. (In case you're wondering, Diamond Sports did carry such things as glasses, etc. as it was also a hardware store) She told me that the cost of the bag was high and that she had put it on lay-a-way. She said it would be a few weeks before she could get it out. Ugh. I was just sick. Not only did I just plain want that bag more than anything in the world, but I also feared being the only one to show up for the first day of basketball practice without the bag we had been told to purchase.
On Halloween of that year, my school had it's last football game with our cross-town rivals. The next day, which would be November 1st, basketball season was officially scheduled to begin. Although jr. high bands don't normally take a pep band to their games, it was decided that for that one big rivalry game, the Honor Band would be on hand to play the fight song, etc. We were so excited. So I attended the game that night and played my horn which made me and my friends feel very grown up and special. We felt like high school kids at a high school game and taht was very exciting. Still, all evening long, I kept thinking about my athletic bag and worrying because earlier that day, our coach had reminded us that we basketball players needed to make sure we had our new bags in time for practice the next day. I worried and fretted all evening long, so much so that I couldn't even really concentrate on the game.
At the end of the night, when my mom came to the stadium to pick me up, I jumped into the car and immediately unloaded my concerns about not having my bag and asked her if there was any way in the world that she could afford to go down to the store the next day before basketball practice, and get my bag out of lay-a-way. It was finally at that moment, when she realized that depth of panic that had set in on me, that she admitted she had actually bought the bag that day when we had gone down to look at them. The item in the box had not been glasses for my grandma, but instead, my bag. I felt both greatly relieved and terminally naieve and stupid. LOL
She gave the bag to me when we got home and I was so excited for the rest of the night that I could barely sleep. I was convinced that carrying that "official" athletic bag was going to cement my rep at school as a "somebody". LOL I couldn't wait to be seen with it and besides that, the jock in me absolutely LOVED that cool little bag. It became one of my most treasured tangible possessions and I carried it proudly for the next year and guarded it with my life.
I hung onto that bag all through high school, and into college. I just couldn't part with it even though I no longer attended the school it represented. Even now, I think about that bag and wish like everything that it hadn't disappeared when my mom moved after I went away to college. I don't know what I'd do with it if I had it now but I wish I did, just the same. Like my letter sweater that I earned in high school, my jr. high athletic bag was one of those earned things that I was really proud of. I had hoped to hang onto them forever. I did manage to hang onto my letter sweater but my beautiful green bag is gone forever.
Kids around here don't even carry that same kind of bag anymore. They use those cheap, folding, collapsable bags that are made of windbreaker material rather than good, thick, genuine leather. They don't know what they're missing. Those bags are so lame. The ones that Bernie and I carried were the real deal and you couldn't buy them at your local Walmart. You had to earn them by lettering in a sport. They were a symbol of pride and hard work, and, a very treasured rite of passage for all teenage athletes in America.
* I can't find a pic of my actual bag. Obviously, I didn't attend any Jesuit school. My bag had "P***** Mu*****" printed on it. But in all other ways, my bag looked pretty identical to this one.
*Bernie, what happened to yours? I remember you had your name written in big, black letters across the top of it so no one could steal it. Also, what happened to your letter jacket? I loved that you let me wear that when I was in jr. high. When Jr. High became "middle school" they stopped ordering letter jackets for the girl athletes for some reason so I didn't get to get one and neither did my friends. So everyone, especially Reana, thought I was way cool for having one that belonged to my older brother. I owe you for that little bit of early teen status.
4:46 AM
The Great Trombone Saga of 1975
Olds Trombone
After school let out at the end of my 7th grade year, my band director told me that I would need to get a trombone of my own because he wasn't sure that he was going to be able to keep the one he had loaned me. I don't remember the details. Most likely, it actually belonged to the high school, rather than the jr. high, and the high school had enough incoming trombone players that the high school director was going to need it. At any rate, I was out of a horn. I really didn't want to go through the process of begging my parents for another horn but I really wanted to be in Honor Band, as it was the very best band in the school. I had worked hard to earn a spot there as a trombone player after having played that instrument for less than a year so being invited to join that group was indeed an honor to me. I didnt' want to miss the opportunity so I did what I had to do. I started on my parents as soon as school let out. I went for broke, too. I didn't ask for another used horn. I asked them to PLEASE talk to Reena's parents who could vouch for the fact that the cost of renting Cathey's brand new clarinet had indeed remained an affordable $10 per month until it was paid for in full. They wouldn't agree to ask her parents but they did at least believe me when I told them about their experience. They knew it must be true if I was willing to risk letting them talk to another parent about the cost so that seemed to interest them at least a little bit. But that still didn't convince them to agree to buying me a new horn. The best I could get from my dad at first was "maybe". Considering how tight-fisted my dad was at that time, a "maybe" really was not that bad. But getting from "maybe" to "yes" proved to be an almost insurmountable task.
Somewhere mid-June, in a moment of sheer surrender to my relentless prodding, I got my dad to agree to rent me a new horn. Great, right? Actually, not so much. Because although he tentatively agreed to rent me the horn, he would not budge at ALL on giving me some sort of ballpark idea as to when I might expect to actually get the horn in my hands. So I LITERALLY called him at work EVERY SINGLE DAY for the rest of the summer. I am not exaggerating one bit. I called every day. Every day, I'd make the call and as soon as he said "hello?", I'd say, "Hi, Daddy. It's me. I was wondering if I could go and rent my new trombone today?". He'd snicker and say, "No, probably not today.". Trying not to hack him off, I'd remain calm most days, and instead of complaining, I would gently remind him of the fact that school would be starting very soon and that I would have to have the horn on the first day in order to be allowed to stay enrolled in Honor Band. He'd say something like, "I understand. Don't worry. We'll get it.". At that point, we'd exchange "I love you's", say goodbye and go on with our lives with the clear but unspoken understanding that we would be repeating the dance the following day. lol I was nothing if not persistent when it came to things I really wanted. lol
I don't want to drag this saga out any further so I'll just spare you and skip to the chase. I DID get my brand new trombone. Hell officially froze over and my parents signed on the dotted line, FINALLY acquiring my much-anticipated new trombone. But my parents never did anything the easy way. No sir. They got me the horn and I was very, very grateful for that. I really was. The minute I opened that beautiful, brand new case and saw my shiney new trombone, my summer of constant begging and worry became totally worth all that I had put into it. lol But I want you to know that my dad waited until the absolute last possible moment. I thought SURELY I would get the horn by the Friday before school was scheduled to start on Monday, but I didn't. So then, I thought there could be now WAY I would not get it on Saturday because that was the last shopping day before school started. But see, my dad was a special breed of parent. Getting my horn a couple of days before school started would have made sense but that also would have been oh, so ordinary and my dad just never got along very well with ordinary. So instead, my parents sent me off to my first day of 8th grade, empty-handed, with only the tentative promise that they'd "try" to get my horn before 4th hour which was when I had Honor Band.
I was a nervous wreck!!!! Talk about pressure! I watched the clock and prayed over and over, all through 1st hour that the intercom would come on and the voice behind it would beckon me to the office to pick up my trombone. But the call never came. 2nd hour, my repetitive prayers continued but the call eluded me once again. 3rd hour rolled around and by that time, I was absolutely about to lose it. Torture. That's what it was. Cruel and unusual torture. Oy, VEH!
When the bell finally rang signifying the end of 3rd hour, my heart sunk. I had run out of time and apparently, the horn wasn't coming. I imagined that because of my parent's poor credit, the music store had refused to allow them to rent the horn. I was beside myself. Not only was I heartborken about the fact that I was not going to get a horn or get to be in Honor Band, but I was also suddenly mortified by the prospect of having to go and explain to my director and my classmates the reason why I had come to class without an instrument. On the verge of emotional breakdown, I headed out of my 3rd hour classroom and toward the band room. In one last ditch, pathetic act of hope, I made the decision to pass by the principal's office just to make sure that there hadn't been a mistake. Low and behold, there was a brand new Olds Trombone case setting there on the counter. I could see it through the big, glass windows before I even walked through the door. I knew that just HAD to be my new horn!! Thankfully, it was!!! As it turned out, my mom had delivered it an hour or so earlier but there had been some miscommunication. I thought they were going to call me down to pick up the horn and they were under the impression that I knew it would be there and would be coming by on my own to get it. Oh. my. gosh. You can file that under "How To Drive A 13-Year Old Girl Clinically Insane In Under 3 Hours". The moment my eyes beheld that trombone, I had been about 2.3 seconds away from sponatenous combustion. It would have been ugly and humiliating. Thankfully, God, through my sweet Mama, came through at the last moment, and crisis was averted.
My own children continue to benefit from that experience, however. When our oldest daughter needed her first band instrument, I immediately went about the business of finding the best price and bought her a brand new flute. (the horn she WANTED, not the horn she was talked into settling for) When little sister, Tay Tay announced that she would like to take violin lessons, her dad and I did our research as quickly as possible, and surprised her on Christmas with her very own brand new violin. That same Christmas, Jordy asked for a guitar. She got it. No questions, hesitations, or negotiations. They got their instruments. After all of the hoops I was forced to jump through in order to get mine, I was determined that if at all possible, my kids would find the process far less stressful. In fact, we've pretty much applied that determined mindset to all child-related purchasing decisions. If we don't have the money, we don't have the money and there is nothing we can do about that (though we still try). But if we have the money, and they need something, they get it. I don't harbor any real hard feelings toward my dad for always making things difficult when I was a kid but at the same time, I do remember how unnecessarily hard it made my already complicated young life so rather than letting my experiences embitter me, I just use them to remind me how important it is that I remember that kids have a right to ask their parents to buy them things that they need, and within reason, they have a right to ask their parents to buy them things that they just want. If we are not in a good place financially, that is not their fault and they cannot cease to need things just because their needs are inconvenient for us at any given time. We've worked very, very hard to teach our daughters the value of a dollar and we've also worked hard to teach them that tangible things are not what life is all about. They know very well what it's like to want that which they cannot have because we are not wealthy. Sadly, they also know what it's like to need some things that cannot always be bought immediately according to need. Sometimes they have had to wait awhile for things, not because their dad or I were dragging our feet, but just because for varying reasons, the family budget did not allow a timelier response to their request. But because they have always been able to trust us to do our very best by them, and because we've always been honest with them about that which we could and could not afford, they have never once gotten upset with us for telling them "no". They have also never been the kind of children who beg for things they know we cannot afford. God has given us two very special children and we love them with everything we are. We're so proud of them. And if having to spend an entire childhood summer working to keep the negotiations for my trombone moving forward is the price I paid in order to learn how to be a rational, compassionate, reasonable negotiator with my own precious children, then I have no complaints. I consider it time well spent and hard, but valuable parenting lesson learned.
If you're up there reading this, Dad, I want you to know that I didn't write any of this to disparage you. The things you did or didn't buy me do not define my love for you. I would have loved you even if you never spend a dime on me. Things are things and people are people. And I'm an adult now. I've known my share of hard times and I've also had the benefit of a parenting education that life did not afford you. I know you did the best you knew to do in those early years while struggling to battle some devastingly difficult demons. You weren't a perfect dad. So what? I'm not a perfect anything. Perfection is unattainable. We all just wear our knees out petitioning God for help and do the best we can. When all is said and done, I know I was loved by you and my children know that they are likewise loved by their dad and me. That's really all that matters.
When parents make it their policy to always say "no" to their children, then their children mistrust and resent them and they learn to beg. My dad used to get upset with me for begging him for things but in reality, it was he who taught me to do that. Because his natural inclination was to say "no" to everything initially, in hopes that he could get out of having to get it for me by wearing me down and causing me to give up, I learned very early on to never, ever accept the word "no" as his final answer unless he threatened me within an inch of my life. He taught me that it was always going to be a dance of negotiation. He was always going to say "no" and then wait to see just how badly I really wanted whatever it was that I had asked for. By the same token, my dad always told us that he didn't have the money for things even when he did, just because he was a tightwad and he hated spending his money on anyone but himself. (That was the old him, not the newer him who came back home in the late 80's to be the husband, father, and grandparent he should have been all along. The newer version of my dad was much, MUCH more generous when he needed to be.) So rather than being understanding when he told me he couldn't afford something I wanted, I was forced to either try and call his bluff, or give up on ever getting anything. And contrary to popular opinion amongst selfish parents, it isn't wrong for a child to want things from time to time. There's a big difference between spoiled, out of control greed and just being a normal, average kid who wants some new toys, shoes, or a freaking instrument to play in band once in awhile. Back when he was a young father, my dad treated Bernie and me as though we were horrible kids when we asked him for even the smallest thing. That's just messed up. We weren't horrible at all. We were just kids. We weren't old enough to work, so our only source of income was our parents. That's the way this whole circle of life gig goes. It was our job to negotiate with our parents for the things we wanted and it was their job to be firm, but also fair and reasonable in those negotiations. My dad did eventually come to understand that for the most part but sadly, Bernie and I were already grown by that time.
3:23 AM
Never Let A Pawnbroker Show You His Instruments
This post is about the time I got a clarinet and joined the school band. Why? What did you think that title meant? Gross! Get your minds out of the gutter!!!
Freaks. : )
When Jerry Hull (remind me to tell you about THAT creature someday!) came to William Gay at the beginning of my 5th grade year to sign new members up for band, I was SUPER excited and I wanted in immediately. In our school, you had to be in the 5th or 6th grade to be in band and I had waited years for my turn so when it finally arrived, I set out about the task of talking my parents into buying a horn for me. If you knew my parents well, then you would know that that was no small task at all. If I wanted toys, they were all over that but when it came to expensive school-related items, they were a very hard sell, not because they didn't want me to get a chance to participate in various things but because they held a lot of misguided presumptions about the price of such things. My parents were the world's worst about getting their information from their stupid friends. Rather than look into things themselves, they would often just make decisions based on that which old so-and-so told them and taht habit made me absolutely crazy when I was a kid. It also reduced me to being a professional beggar because convincing my parents to actually look into something about which they already had preconceived ideas was a monumental undertaking. Such was the case with my request for a musical instrument for the band I so desperately wanted to join.
After watching a demonstration of various horns that Jerry Hull did at our school, I decided that I either wanted to play a cornet or the drums. However, there was only one other person in my class who was interested in playing the drums, and because I knew so little about school band at the time, I decided against being a drummer because I mistakenly thought it would be really boring with only two people playing snare drums. (I wanted to play the whole trap set and didn't understand that I needed to start out on just the snare before taking the leap to a full set of drums. Major error on my part as I STILL long to play the drums very, very much. I'd have a trap set in my house right now if I had the money and space for it.) So I settled on the cornet. I liked brass instruments. I hated reeded instrument. So I told my parents that I wanted a cornet but also told them that if they couldn't find a good used cornet in their price range, then I would settle for trombone or flute. (Flute is a woodwind instrument, though it doesn't have a reed but I thought it was a brass instrument because it was metal rather than wood.) I loved music. The truth is that I would have settled for ANY instrument just to get to be in band. And settle, I did, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
My dad was a musician. He loved music and he liked the idea of me learning music. He always had a dream about Brent and me playing music with him someday. So the joining band part, he was quick to approve. It was the instrument purchase that tripped us up. He didn't want to spend the money for a horn. How I was supposed to join band without an instrument, I do not know but initially, that seemed to have been what he had in mind. My mom, not yet realizing my deep love of all things music, was o.k. with me joining band but she really thought it was just one more silly obligation for me and for her so if she had had her way, I wouldn't have joined simply because she didn't want to get sucked into attending anything else at school. lol We went down that particular road a LOT when I was growing up because going to my school events was as difficult and painful as chemotherapy to my mother. I didn't understand it back then, but now that I suffer from the same social anxiety disorder that had no name back then, I fully understand.
So anyhow, my mom tried to talk me out of being in band but she wasn't mean about it or anything and she told me that if I could talk my dad into buying a horn, she would let me join. So I went to work on him. I called him every single day at work and I hit him with it every time I caught him at home. I tried to convince him that he could get me a brand new horn from Saied for a mere $10 per month which was a really, really great deal for a brand new horn with a brand new case but because my parents were too shy to look into it, they just couldn't believe that a "big store in Tulsa" was going to let them walk away with a brand new instrument for $10 per month so they refused to take me to the Holiday Inn the night that Saied brought a truck load of instruments down for all of the M******** parents to peruse and rent to own. My mom and dad were very suspicious people. That was especially true of my dad. My mom is still like that today to some extent but dad was always the worst when it came to that. He was always sure that there was a catch in everything. lol So his position was that he was not going to go out there and get "rooky-doo'd" as he called it, by signing his name to a contract with some "big city company" because he was sure that the $10 per month was just an introductory ruse. He was absolutely convinced, as was my mom, that when my friend's parents received their SECOND monthly bill, it would demand much, much, MUCH more than $10 of them. It became an epic battle of wits between my parents and Saied Music and my parents were determined to be the only parents in the neighborhood who didn't "fall for" the scam that Saied was supposedly playing on everyone else. Oy, freaking veh. I cried for hours the night of the Holiday Inn event because I knew that I was missing out on an opportunity to get a really nice instrument from a reputable company. There was no way that my parents were going to drive me up to Tulsa to get one, even if by some miracle, I managed to change their minds later (which was never going to happen, but I always had hope because hope springs eternal when you're 10, lol) At one point, it began to look as though I was not only not getting a new instrument from Saied, but I was also not going to be able to join band because my parents just weren't finding a horn priced to suit their non-existent "buy our daughter a musical instrument" budget.
The following Saturday, my mom had to do some shopping at Anthony's, which was just a few doors down from the city's main pawn shop. I knew they had instruments and a couple of my friends had told me that their parents had found instruments fairly cheap there so I used that opporunity to slip away down to take a look for myself.
When I walked in, the very bored salesperson asked me if he could help me. When I told him that I was looking for a cornet because I was hoping to join my school band, he informed me that he didn't have a cornet at the moment and then insisted that I should instead, seriously consider the clarinet he had. I had never considered playing clarinet for even a moment. I had zero interest in it. None. But I was convinced that the pawn shop prices were the only prices my parents were going to be willing to think about paying so I listened to the man's passionate sales pitch. That man went on for several minutes about the alleged "fun" involved in playing the clarinet. He took the one he had down and put it into my hands and let me mash the keys, etc. By the time he finished giving me his spiel, which included an assurance that the price of that horn was so inexpensive that my parents would readily agree to purchase it, (that was the one that pushed me over the edge of desperation) If I remember correctly, the price of that horn was $40. I'm not positive about that but I think that's correct. That was a lot of money back then but not nearly as much as my parents had been told to expect a brand new horn to cost. (I don't know where their friends got their info but they convinced my parents that horns cost hundreds and hundreds of dollars. Most of them don't even cost that today so they most definitely didn't cost that back then.)
So I gave up my drum/cornet dreams and decided I'd better ask for the clarinet because that's the horn I had the best chance of talking my parents into purchasing. My mom wouldn't buy it (and to be fair, at that particular time, such purchases were not really her parental jurisdiction, lol) so I hit my dad up the first chance I got. I don't remember if it was that same day or the next but either way, I put on the full court press for the pawn shop piece of crap clarinet. Still, I couldn't get any kind of committment from him. He didn't say no but he also didn't ever say yes so I didn't know what to expect.
Fast forward a few days when my dad surprised me by bringing home a very good but used clarinet. It wasn't the one from the pawn shop. He had gone to Ramsey's Music Store to get my horn because they offered a better price and/or agreed to let him pay it out. I'm not sure which of those things convinced him to take the plunge but I also didn't ask many questions because I was afraid I'd cause him to second-guess himself and take the horn back.
So for the next three years, I played clarinet in the school band and although I was pretty good at it when I tried, I never, never liked it. I thought clarinet was one of the most boring instruments in the world to play and even more importantly, I HATED those wooden reeds. I get chills and goosebumps just thinking about them. I could not STAND putting those things in my mouth. It wasn't the taste. They really didn't have a taste. It was just the dry texture. I truly cannot find a word strong enough to convey to you just how much I HATED those reeds.
Near the end of 6th grade, my horn broke. It was nothing serious or particularly costly and technically I could still have played it but I used that as an excuse to get out of playing it. I told my parents that I needed it repaired knowing full well they would not agree to pay for said repair work. lol I got to sit in band class for the next few weeks, doing my own thing (homework, writing notes, reading, etc.) because my band director had no power to force my parents to rush the repairs on my horn. I didn't want out of band. That wasn't my deal at all. I had just finally reached the point of no return with my reed hate. I just couldn't take it anymore.
Long story made just a LITTLE bit (and ONLY a little bit) shorter.....the school year ended and during the summer, I messed with my clarinet enough to get it working again. I did not want to play it the next year but I also loved band and did not want to drop out so I resigned myself to giving those nasty reeds another try.
Fortunately, God had mercy on me and somewhere mid-7th grade, my band director announced that he was in need of more trombone players. I still preferred drums or trumpet but I liked the trombone and it was a brass instrument, which had always been my preference so I jumped at the chance to switch instruments. The best part was that he had an extra horn that belonged to the school so I could switch without having to depend upon my parents to buy me a trombone. (Thank goodness, I didn't have to go through THAT again......until 8th grade, that is. lol)
I switched to trombone, loved it, worked hard, and made my way to 1st chair of beginning band (I had to change my schedule and agree to start over in beginner band in order to be allowed to switch instruments because he had no idea of knowing how quickly I would pick it up) and was given a short solo in the spring concert. I was also invited to join Honor Band (the school's top band) for 8th grade. When I did so, I immediately won 2nd chair just behind the school's top trombone player who had been playing since 5th grade. Not too shabby, huh? And a couple of times that year, I surpassed him and won 1st chair. I took to trombone quickly and effortlessly. And lest you think I'm bragging, let me just assure you that that is not the case. I don't take credit for any of my musical talents. I don't know why God chose to make music my gift in life but He did and because of that, it's just something that I've always been able to do. There is no rhyme or reason to any of it. I just "can". It's all Him. Every ounce of the talent comes from Him. It's from Him, through Him, because of Him, and for Him. I'm just the ragamuffin vessel He chose to use and for that, I am truly grateful. As I always say, there is no other gift I would rather get to have while rattling around in this big old world. Next to God and my family, music is everything to me. And nothing on earth ushers me directly into His presence, where I continually bow in awe of His goodness, mercy, magnificence, and grace.
After all of this, there is still the story of the summer of '75, when I begged literally every single day for my parents to rent me a brand new trombone. But this post is already quite long so I'll save it for next time. I'm sure you're just dying to hear all about it. LOL
The dreaded clarinet reed. Have I mentioned how much I hated the
*Bernie: You played cornet in band, which I would have used, since that was one of my chosen instruemtns. However, by the time I joined band, you no longer had it. It just dawned on me while writing this post that I've never asked you where it went or how hard it was for you to talk Mom and Dad into getting it for you. We had a lot more money when you started band so you might have had an easier time? lol I'd love to hear the story.
Monday, January 4, 2010
11:56 PM
Wringer Washing Machines
These were weird little contraptions. Thankfully, by the time I came along, my parents were no longer using this type of washing machine. My grandparents still had one, though and there was also one at the laundry mat we used to go to after our home washing machine broke down. (I dearly love my dad but truth is truth and he was never, ever one to making fixing things around the house a priority. That washing machine probably could have been fixed with a cheap, simple part and about an hour or less of labor but my dad just let it set in our basement and rot, rather than fix it. We got a brand new washer and dryer set at the end of my 4th grade year. But most of my life up to that point, my mom and I had to go to a laundry mat to wash clothes.) I never liked this machines much but I was a tiny bit fascinated by the ringer at the top. After you washed your clothes in the tub part of the appliance, you ran each piece in between those two black rollers and those rollers would wring the excess water out of your garment. I used to like to watch people do that until one day, when I was about 3 or 4, I watched a boy just a little bit older than me, stick his hand in there and get it painfully smashed. I'll never forget hearing him scream and cry. I wouldn't go near that machine again after that. lol
11:44 PM
Chinese Checkers
Chinese Checkers
Everyone had one of these games but as far as I know, none of us ever learned how to actually play it. That didn't really matter to me because I thought it was so pretty. I used to just like lining my equally pretty marbles up on the "round, tin thing" just for the heck of it. That was entertainment enough for me. lol
11:17 PM
Arithemetic Machine
I never had one of these but had friends and cousins who did and I thought it wsa pretty cool. Remember when having tools to do elementary school homework at home during breaks and during the summer was fun? I do.I also remember when math was called Arithemetic but I don't remember it because I'm old. Honest. ; )
Ben Franklin's used to carry this cool line of educational books that had many day's worth of work pages in various subjects such as math, science, spelling, etc. Every summer, I missed school so much that I would buy those workbooks so I could pretend school was still in session. I LOVED those things and the cozy way I felt every time I would crawl up into my old country bed, in my little air-conditioned bedroom with a couple of those books. I loved school so much when I was in elementary school!
I also remember being frustrated when our teacher wouldn't give us any or at least, enough homework so I would make up assignments that I gave to myself just because I so enjoyed doing school work. LOL Some of the teachers who had me as a student in high school would never have recognized elementary school me. She and high school me were as different as night and day. LOL
It was around 8th grade when I figured out the fact that my parents didn't care at all about my grades. Up to that point, I had been an honor student. I stopped making any effort at all once I figured out they didn't care one way or the other. I already knew what I wanted to do for a living so I ignorantly thought high school didn't matter. In actuality, it didn't matter much when all was said and done. I excelled in the things that mattered to me: music, speech, drama, journalism, English, psychology. The rest, I completely ignored. That meant I had to work a lot harder once I got to E** but work harder I did and I graduated with a 3.64 gpa in my field and a 3.2 overall. That's a solid B+/A- grade point average. I worked my tail off and enjoyed it immensely. During my college years, I returned to being the lover of learning that I had been as a child and that desire has never again left me. I love to read and I love to learn new things. I wish I had the money to take classes in a thousand different subjects beginning with photography, Hebrew, sign language, guitar, photoshop, and filmography. Those are just the first 6 things on my very lengthy to-do wishlist.
I wish I were 18 again.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
8:41 PM
Aunt Jemima Pancake Mix and Griffin's Waffle Syrup
Aunt Jemima Pancake Mix and Griffin's Waffle Syrup
These were a staple in our house all through my childhood. Those are still the only brands I used today. No other will ever do.
The syrup came in glass bottles like the one in the pic above. Obviously, the plastic bottles are lighter to carry in your grocery bags and they take up less room on your kitchen shelf but still, I miss those old glass bottles. That's how pancake breakfasts looked in our house and so that's the way i would like for it to stay. I've said it a million times before and I'll say it a trillion times more - if it ain't broke, don't freaking fix it.
8:24 PM
Kodak Memories
Vintage Kodak Camera Display
You know. Before retailers stopped trusting shoppers enough to display electronics without alarms attached to them. lol
8:21 PM
Dad's Favorite Electric Guitar
The beautiful little brown-eyed girl holding the guitar is my sweetfaced niece, Dawn. This pic was taken by Bernie one summer when she was visiting him up in L***** at our dad's house.
8:11 PM
Time Capsule Snapshot
I have no idea who these kids are. I found this pic while googling for some vintage skateboards. It's a bit of a time capsule goldmine though so I copied it and saved it for this blog. So many things from my childhood re in this pic! The skateboard, the 10-speed, the knee-length athletic socks, the knock-off Adidas black and white track shoes, the cut-off jean shorts, and the moppy boy's hairstyle, the two-tone t0shirt with ribbed collar and cleeve cuffs, the cut-up sweatshirt - all of these things are classic 70's items. Even though I'm not actually in this pic, it is nonetheless a near-perfect snapshot of my childhood.
8:02 PM
Variation On A Pinball Game
These were common toys that were simple, yet very entertaining. They were sort of like pinball machines in that you fired off the ball from a spring-loaded trigger (red thing on bottom right) and tried to get the ball to land on one of the little plastic perches that protruded from in and around the clown's face. (Not all of these had clowns. There were many, many different themes.) I loved any challenge that involved aiming a ball at some designated goal. I guess I was preparing for my lifelong love of basketball or something. : ) At any rate, I really enjoyed these. I owned many of my own and my granny mom kept several of them over at her house through the years, as well. It's just one of those toys that you couldn't resist. If you saw one, you had to pick it up and give it a try. And then, you'd invariably spend the next hour obsessed with perfecting it. LOL
7:48 PM
Fisher Price Stackable Rings
One of several staple Fisher Price Toys that I loved, loved, loved. If you didn't have all of the staple Fisher Price toys, then you were neglected and abused. Seriously. Call the hot line. Your parents must be held accountable. lol
7:41 PM
Toy Milk Delivery Set
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When I was a preschooler, the milk man still delivered our milk. I loved seeing that milk truck because I knew it always had chocolate milk and ice cream in it. Yum! This toy was a favorite of mine because it was made to look like the real bottles of milk and juice that a real milk man carried. I thought delivery jobs were extremely fun looking when I was little so playing milk delivery man was great fun for me. And besides, these little bottles and their carrier was just too cute!
I'm still looking for a photo of one of those old real milk trucks.
7:29 PM
Playskool Blocks With Super Fun Pull Wagon
From generation to generation, until safety regulations forced them to be phased out in lieu of less dangerous plastic ones, this adorable little wooden wagon full of brightly-colored wooden blocks was about $4 of sweet, precious baby love. Every baby boomer had this and every baby boomer loved it.
7:26 PM
Abacus
Visual Math Aid which all kids loved. All of my elementary classrooms had a lifesize version of this. I loved those things! I'm still hoping to find a picture of one of them.
7:24 PM
Kiddie Lunch Box
I never owned one of these but always loved them. I think every pre-schooler loves things like this.
7:21 PM
Fisher Price Cash Register
I mean, look at this adorable little thing! Do I even need to explain why I loved it?
7:17 PM
More Just-Like-Mommy Toys That I Loved
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At one time or another, I had ALL of these things. Aren't they just the sweetest, cutest little make-believe-mommy toys in the world?
7:15 PM
Child Work Desk
I had an actual work desk that had a peg board, chalkboard, and magnetized board for these letters. The toy in this picture is basically a mini version of that really cool work desk, which was as big as an elementary school desk. I LOVED that desk and I'm still looking for a picture of it. Hopefully I'll find one. eventually.
7:13 PM
Another Random Cool Toy
I honestly didn't think I would ever find a picture of this toy because I didn't know what it was called. I STILL don't know what it's called but I ran across it while doing a general google search for vintage toys and I was so happy about that that I almost cried! It is such a simple little toy but I loved it when I got it. This one is a little rusty, etc. When they were brand new, they were very pretty and shiny. The way this toy worked was that you repeatedly pushed the button at the bottom, which caused the wheel to spin faster and faster. The spinning created some sort of friction inside which in turn, created sparks. Because of the transparent red and blue panels, the sparks appeared to be red, white, and blue. I thought it was very pretty to watch. I've always been a big fan of colorful lights of any kind so this toy was right up my alley. I think it retailed for about .69 or so which, back then, was kind of a lot of money for such a simple toy. Given the fact that school lunches only cost .30 back then, .69 was significant for an everyday toy. Everyday toys were the toys your parents could be talked into buying for you on any given day, as opposed to the ones that you were only allowed to get on birthdays or at Christmas because they were more expensive. The general price of everyday toys usually hovered around .25 or less. Believe it or not, the Ben Franklin/Woolworth toy aisles always had quite a few fun items in that price range so we kids didn't complain too much about the spending limit. I do remember actually buying this toy but I don't remember the specifics regarding how I talked my mom into springing for the .69. It might have been a Saturday, in which case, I would have gotten .50 - .75 from my mom and then, another .25 from my PaPa. All of my life, until I reached college age, my PaPa gave me a quarter every single Saturday. I know it doesn't sound like much today but back then, it was a guaranteed toy every weekend. Between the money I always got on Saturdays from my mom, which varied, and the money I got from PaPa, I always had a nice little chunk of spending money on Saturdays. Mom and I always "went to town" (that's what we called it back then) on Saturday afternoon and spent the whole day looking around, having lunch, etc. I have SUCH warm memories of those days. Mom and I had a great time. My momminnie would usually meet us downtown on Saturdays as well so we'd make a whole girl day of it. Those were great times. I'd give just about anything to get to relive some of them again. Most likely, this toy was one of my Saturday toys, but whether it was or not, it reminds me of those innocent, slow-paced afternoons with my Mom and Momminnie so it was worth far more than the .69 I paid to own it.