The Chapter of Laughter

Who doesn't remember the full abandon of laughter we had as children. We would laugh until we cried or our stomachs hurt and sometimes we would laugh so hard we could wet our pants.  In our innocence it didn't take much to set us off; an adult falling, false teeth in a glass of water, an aunt whose wig was on crooked. How about singing at the top of our lungs when we went on school bus trips. Such innocuous things filled our day with humor. We had not embraced serious yet. The weight of the world, the financial pressures, the politics of working, were all vacant from our lives and we took our fun where we could find it.
Why do many people say that childhood is the best part of your life? It's because we dealt in such simple pleasures. Finding a shiny rock on the beach, making a sandcastle, stepping in the puddles, eating a package of M&M's, running in the yard and the whole of our world a virtual playground. Fast forward to our adult life. Do we step in the puddles, do we laugh easily and frequently, do we cast our eyes on the world around us, look up at the stars, taste the snow? As adults our life usually morphs into routines, responsibilities, serous conversations. Is it possible to catch the youthful exuberance of our childhood. I say yes.
Here is my own personal check list of how to recapture some of the unbridled passion of youth.

1. Put children in your life and see through their eyes the wonder around them.
2. Dance, even if it by yourself, and feel the rhythm and energy invoked by music.
3. Lay on the grass and look at the clouds. Conjure names to match the shapes.
4. Look up at the night sky and don't just go from the car to the house.
5. Visually enrich your life by going to beautiful parks, waterfalls, river banks and wherever your legs allow. It fills you up.
6. Keep happy people around you and never, never, get into discussions about your aches and pains. (Easier said than done).
7. Find a hobby that matches your passion with no end goal in site. Just do it for the pleasure of doing it. No benchmarks, no perfection quest, do it just for the joy of doing it.
8. Try to see the humor in everyday situations; not finding your keys, or even your car in a parking lot, brushing your teeth with hemorrhoid paste instead of toothpaste because you didn't wear your glasses. The list goes on and on so there are plenty of opportunities for humor.
9. Invite people to your home and cultivate your friendships. Remember your best buddies when you were young. Friends and family keep us going.
10. Whenever you can, perform a random act of kindness. Remember when you gave your mom a special gift and you felt so happy at her joy. A dollar slipped to a kid in the grocery line, an unneeded gift or recycled toy placed in your car ready for the right opportunity. 

Everyone can make their own list, customized to their springs of joy. We don't have to give it up just because were near the end chapter. It can once again be a  Chapter of Laughter.

Saturday Morning TV

Every Saturday we would all sit around the square, squat TV placed reverently  against  the living room wall. This was when our favorite shows came on; The Three Stooges, Lone Ranger with Tonto, Micky Mouse, plus lots of cartoons . One favorite was Felix the Cat, but there was great debate over which show would win out. Popeye was popular with the brothers as they imagined how strong and powerful they could become if they ate spinach. Tom and Jerry appealed to those of us who liked trickery and practical jokes. My least favorite was The Three Stooges because my brothers would try to imitate their antics which did no harm on the TV screen but translated poorly on the sibling victims. We were glued to the tube as a world of make believe and fantasy descended upon us. It was theater and our seats were ringside on the floor. When fights would break out over which show could be watched our dear grandmother would ask us to take turns. There was no immediate gratification in that so usually the most persuasive, i.e., the strongest won the battle. No mention of who brother D. was.
Then there were the commercials; funny, serious, ridiculous and blessedly short.
Sardo, a bath oil showed a lady stepping into a tub full of warm, silky water and exclaimed Sardo, take me away." To this day I use that expression. There was Superman touting Sugar Smacks, and so, so, many Coca Cola commercials that the refrain of "that refreshing new feeling' buzzed in your head long afterwards. Skippy peanut butter, Marshmallow Fluff, what home could be without?  Sunbeam bread with a lovely little girl taking a bite of the battered whipped or better described as battered and whipped,store bought bread.  Oatmeal was being replaced by cereals, sugar coated, fortified, emulsified ,mystified as Tony the Tiger and the breakfast of Champions became the focus of our grocery jaunts. Some of the tag lines never went away like: You wonder where the yellow went when you brush your teeth with Pepsodent, Mums the Word, When it Rains it Pours, Coca Cola gives you that Refreshing New Feeling,- - -.  Many commercials were jingles  and worked their way into our lexicon of babble. Halo everybody, Halo or Relief is just a swallow away, or my favorite to dance to,
Hot Digity, Dog Digity, Armour Hot Dogs.  Advertising is all about creating desire and boy did we desire; cereals with prizes, toys with magic rings, and who can forget PF Flyers.
Commercials are still around today, in fact our lives are wall papered with them. The jingles have faded out, but the tunes of those 30 second blurbs live on in our heads and in our memories.

The Days of Mend, Fix and Tinker

Photo by Kieran White

When the guys in the neighborhood got their first car, usually a clunker, they could be seen in their yards with the car hoods up. They learned quickly how to get around the trouble spots and get the car moving. They would invariable have grease under their fingernails fixing pistons, carburetors, brake drums, rotors, hoses and water pumps. It was before electronics and chips made their way into the insides of these four wheeled animals and many of the guys got an early degree in mechanics based on his hands on experience.

It was a time too when appliances lasted forever and in the event they broke down they were fixed not thrown. A Hobart Mixer or Kitchen Aid was passed down from previous generations and on to the next. The Paul Revere pans were another example of built to last, unlike the dozens of Teflon Coated "advances" that found their way to the garbage can. The old pans lasted longer than the families.

There was also a certain pride of ownership that resulted in families taking good care of their possessions. You felt proud that your coat was that old but still looked like new. Shoes were were polished and mended when there was wear left in them. Furniture was waxed and polished in spite of the fact it was far more labor intensive than today. Pride, pride was everywhere.

Recycling was not a buzz word yet, it was a way of life. Clothes were passed to younger siblings, paper bags were kept for reuse, and even the string wrapped around the butcher paper was saved for possible future use. Garbage went into a compost heap. Rain water was collected in rain barrels. Glass jars were washed and kept for storage. Left over food was thrown into a soup. Wasting was a mortal sin. It was a time before large, extra large, and super large.A minimal amount of waste was the mantra of the 50’s household. 

Yes the emphasis in the 50’s was take care of, preserve, mend and fix. It carried over to relationships as well. You didn't throw away friendships and family members because of squabbles or slights, you sought a way to solve or forgive and move forward.
We live in a throw away society now; newer is better, don't fix it, chuck it. Some see this as an improvement but a growing number of our forward thinkers are urging us to go back to preserve, protect, and keep our carbon footprints at a minimal. I must admit I am of that school.

Learning to Dance in the Fourth Grade

We were in the fourth grade and a special teacher was there to teach us to dance. Our first lesson was the box step. We were matched up with young boys or two girls when there were not enough boys to go around. Our arms on his shoulder, his hand at our waist, and then we were off, one, two, three four, one, two, three four, drawing a square on the floor to the time of the music. I remember being embarrassed at how sweaty my palms were, or maybe it was his. His name was Gary; my first dance partner. I was so concentrated on looking at my feet I barely looked up. The teacher kept repeating the numbers and the music matched her cadence in perfect harmony.

Elementary school was more than reading, writing, and arithmetic. We learned social skills, team work, hygiene, and etiquette.  Our teachers were respected and our manners were not perfect but our pranks were innocent in the big scheme. We would pass notes along to our friends, giggle at someone’s’ mistake, and draw doodles on our notebooks.

It’s funny the things that you remember but I remember particular things about Mrs. F.  She was quite plump, with sparse white hair so that you could see her very pink scalp. Her face was very blemished and she would constantly reach into her bottom side draw of the desk and powder her face. To me she looked like a clown. She also was putting lotion on all the time. She spent as much time opening her side drawer as she did teaching. She was a nice teacher, but to my eyes, her ways were strange. She wore glaring red lipstick on her pale face and would check it with her little mirror, again stashed in her side draw. I don’t remember what I learned in fourth grade, aside learning to dance, but I do remember well her funny habits and side drawer booty.

My First Job at Lerner's in Downtown Providence

You had to be sixteen to be officially employed in a store in the early 60's. I took my first step in the working world at a department store in downtown Providence, R.I. I felt so grown up, dressing up, riding the bus, walking into a store that would open me up to the world of shoppers, hagglers, spenders, and fashion focused ladies.  Occasionally a gentleman would venture in, usually for a gift or on an errand for his wife. Men were always bigger spenders.  They just seem to want to buy and get out as quickly as possible.
It was a time in history when silk nylons came in square boxes, wrapped in tissue, sorted by size and color, all with unsightly seams down the back. They were attached with garter belts which had metal clips for fastening the top of the nylon. Every women who wore a pair of nylons asked the same question to her friends, "Are my seams straight?" Heaven forbid they looked like a curved highway.
I loved people and I loved selling. In fact I was somewhat of a star. There was one three fourth length checkered coat that came in and I fell in love with it. My passion translated to so many sales they they had to keep going to the back of the store  in the lay-away area and pull them out, just to keep up with me. I sometimes wonder if my long career in sales and marketing started right there in Lerner's Department Store.
I was the youngest on the staff, and quite green behind the ears. Since the older ones had in addition to their pay, a commission, they did not take kindly to my pursuit of a sale. Unlike them I was non aggressive and really wanted the customers to be happy. I think my co-workers came around and stuck to their regulars while I looked eagerly for fresh faces.
I met my first "foreigner" in the store. A lovely young girl from Columbia. She spoke little English and I was all to happy to help her. Another portent for my future of being around people from many countries and cultures. I developed a lovely friendship with her and met her family. Such nice people, like so many immigrants, starting a new life in the land of opportunity. There was opportunity every where you looked. You didn't have to "look" for a job, you just had to want one. There were signs in every window that read Help Wanted. With hard work you could start off as a worker bee and rise to the top. It was a time of great work ethics, and benevolent bosses. Corporate greed did not have it's nasty choke hold around everyone's life.
The first paycheck I received was so thrilling that I wanted to buy something special for my mom. I walked the downtown streets looking in the windows and feeling wealthy as a Rockefeller. My eyes fell on a beautiful, pink, crystal looking rosary bracelet displayed in a store window. That was the very first thing I bought with my new found wealth. I learned early the great joy of giving and my heart was singing all the way home on the bus. The gift was laid out stylishly in a delicate box and wrapped with tissue and a bow.
I ran into the house with my gift for mom. Her eyes lit up like a sky of diamonds, and her smile was like a blast of warmth from the oven of her heart. I was so elated and then looked around at all my siblings with their mouths opened and wondered how long it would take me to get through the list.

Louie's' Lemon Freeze

We were living in the small rural town of Harmony. The provincial village which dates back to the beginning of the 19th century was adjacent to a busy highway that started in Gloucester and ran to Putnam, Connecticut. It was called the Old Putnam Highway or Rt. 44. There was not a lot of traffic in those days so when my one sibling and I were playing in the yard we could hear a car coming from a long way, it's tires growling at the surface and then fading into the distance. We wondered with our little minds what was off in the distance. Our imaginations could conjure up all sorts of things, but we didn't take long to get back to playing in the wooded yard and listening for the next whisk of tires. I particularly remember that along side the road were tall wooden poles that had electric wires strung from one to another. There were small posts that were markers for people to find your house since addresses could be a pole number. Life was uncluttered then, few cars, few neighbors, and lots of trees.
We did have a neighbor who lived in a trailer across the way. His name was Louie. He lived alone, wore old dungarees, a checkered shirt, and always smelled like pipe smoke. He tended a small garden which grew copious amounts of tomatoes and cukes which he generously shared. On occasion  he would  bring us over the most delicious treat called Lemon Freeze. He made it in ice cube trays and our taste buds exploded with happiness when he shared his special recipe. I'm guessing he was lonely since I never saw any body visit him but our family always gave him a big welcome and enjoyed his visits as short as they were. It was a win win situation all around. Today he would probably be looked at askance but back then kindness and sharing was the order of the day.
When company came, mostly family, mostly unannounced, it was a treat. The car pulling in the driveway, the crunching sound beneath the wheels,aunts and uncles piling  out with cousins right behind them, ready to play and explore in our country setting. It was really a small rented house, my parent not long married and only two of us to share our toys and adventures. The old folks would sit around the "parlor" talking about the cost of bread, state of the union, and the latest Hollywood gossip. There always came a point in the conversations where they would discuss their aches and pains which amused us to no end, thinking to ourselves 'I'll never do that when I'm old.' Huh!
Families visited often then, partly because they lived in close proximity, there was far less formality, and adding another few meatballs in the sauce was no big deal. Family was important, it was tribal identification so inborn in all of us, it was the safety net for rainy days. We got to know our aunts, and cousins and they got to know us. Most families stayed in the same area because there were jobs to be had. What a difference a half century has made. People go were the jobs are, families are scattered all over the states and world. Aunts and Uncles have become sporadic names brought up in conversations and the connections that were so dear and constant are disappearing. The 50's decade was one of family dinners, family gatherings, cousins playing, spontaneous visits and a sense of community. I miss it. My children miss it, because now the Aunts and Uncles are all over the globe. Their children have to be very careful of strangers and dangers. A different world today, a different time.

#Comic Books, #50'S heroes

How well I remember the joy of Comic Books. Our first foray into the world of super heroes, fantasy, and wanna be adults. The girls were very partial to Betty and Veronica and we would lie face down on our beds, feet crossed in the air and study the clothes, hairstyles and lifestyles our our imaginary friends. It didn't stop there, the comic books were piled up in a corner, shared with friends in exchange for others like; Archie, Superman, Mega Man, Bat Man, Popeye, Jessie James, Toy Guns, and Sea Monkeys. Clearly the writers were geared to the male population but that was alright back then. It was in the days before equal opportunity, and sexual discrimination, and whatever other rights were being trampled upon.
For our part, young and guileless, we sucked everything we could out of these out of home stories. There was no hidden messages, or Sunday Sermons, or parental lectures embedded, just pure make believe.
I was always drawn to the back cover where offers of wonderful prizes were there for selling subscriptions to the magazine or some other product. It was truly the beginning of my career in sales. There was a microscope that I thought would make a great gift for my sibling so I signed on to sell the prescribed amount of Christmas Card boxes with thinking of the euphoria  when you are going to give something special to someone you love. I loved all my siblings and surprising them was like kindling for the fireplace of my heart. In our family there was no doling out of money to buy a gift for the family. You earned it, made it, or faked it. So much thought went into the process because each of us had our own interests and unique personality. One brother loved books, another building ship models, one was for physical activity, and my sisters were all into dolls, and toys. Mom and dad suffered the usual tie and cheap perfume gifts which they received with a great demonstration of happiness. After all is said and done that is what it was about, making others happy. Comic books gave me the possibility to enter into the world of earning prizes and rewards. Nothing has changed in the world today, we still prey fall to prizes and rewards from airline tickets, to credit cards, and numerous other offers of a free lunch.  I am not sure though, that we derive nearly as much satisfaction as before the days of good and plenty.