Wilkommen, bien venu, welcome!
Wednesday
April 10, 2013
Buenos DIas!
Guten Tag!
Bon Jour!
Wilkommen, bien venu, welcome!
Come into my Parky playhouse and let's have some fun....
Today the rain hitting my bedroom window woke me up. Then with the thunder rolling and banging through the sky I pulled the sheet and blanket up over my head and dozed. It was a dark and stormy morning.
Gee I feel like telling you all a story. Lately,I have been writing all day every day. The plot, characters, words, actions, are flowing out of my head like Niagra Falls. On a dark and stormy morning when we have to stay inside, stories are wonderful to read or listen to. You can listen to this because I am telling it to you.
Now everyone get your snacks eaten and clean up your areas. Please sit quietly and I will tell you a story.
There was once a little girl named Mary Christine. She was born in a time when there were no computers or cell phones, cable TV, microwaves, blow dryers, or touch tone telephones.
She DID have rotary dial phones with party lines. That does not have anything to do with illegal drugs! A party line was a telephone line that was shared by several families. You could pick up the phone and listen in on a neighbor's call.
Each family had their own ring so they would know the call was for them. Her family had a ring that was two short fast rings.
Mary Christine could not have cared less about the telephone. She would go outside and run down the sidewalk to her friends house and stand outside and yell their name, " Ciinnddyyy" she would call. And finally after about ten minutes and several yells out came Cindy. It was great to get a bunch of kids together and go to another's house. They would all yell "Gaarryyyyy!" or whatever the kids name was.
They played Hopscotch, Mother May I, or just hit the sandbox and create worlds in the sand. They had old gowns they played Dress Up with pretending to be fancy and rich and stuck up. Oh and there was Tag and BIke parades. They would decorate their bikes with balloons and put playing cards in between the spokes on the wheels so they would make a whirring noise as they pedaled around and around the block. Running through the sprinklers was a great way to cool down. Mary Christine was very jealous of all of her friends because they all had the sprinklers that went back and forth in a big arc while her dad only had a line sprinkler that lay across the grass and just shot the water straight up and it wasn't any fun at all she thought.
They would have Kool-Aid stands and try to sell paper cups of it from the back of Mary Christine's family car. It was a station wagon and the back door let down so you could sit on it with your legs and barfeet dangling and sell Kool-Aid very easily. Mary Christine lived on a busy street so they did sell a few cups, but they generally drank it all themselves.
Mary Christine went barefoot most of the summer. She would get up in the morning, have her breakfast, pull on her brothers hand-me-down shorts and shirt and head out the door without even brushing her hair. Her mom was around somewhere so she would just yell "bye mom" and slam out the back screen door.
The days went by so fast. Cindy's mom had this enormous bell on a post right by their back door. Her mom would ring it when it was time for Cindy to go home for supper. That ringing bell kind of put a damper on the day, so they eventually, slowly make their way home. But not before they made her mom mad enough to ring that bell a few more times. Each time it seemed a little louder and angrier, but they were having so much fun!
When it started to get a little dark out, they would play games like Bloody Murder or Kick the Can. They all knew every inch of that block. Hiding in garages, behind thick rows of bushes and fences seperating back yard from back yard. That was great fun because it was kind of scary! When Cindy's mom rang the bell again and the street lights were coming on it was time to go home take a bath and "wash those filthy dirty feet!". (That's what MAry Christine's mom said every night)
There were only three TV channels so TV was not that big of a deal. And the reception wasn't always the best. They would have to adjust the rabbit ears to try and get the best picture possible.
After supper Mary Christine and her brothers could watch some TV. The favorite night for her was Sunday after the evening church service. They would come home and Mary Christine and her brother closest in age, Davey (two years older) would get into their pajamas and lie down on their bellies in front of the TV faces propped in their hands and be transported to the "Wonderful World of Disney". It was in 'living color' but Mary Christine's family only had a black and white TV. It didn't matter. It's funny how you can't really miss something you've never had.
The world was changing all around her while she played away those beautiful days. Riots, assassinations, marches, protests, hippies, drugs, Woodstock, Vietnam. She had no inkling of any of it. Then one day everything really did change.
Mary Christine, two of her brothers, Davey and Paul, and her mom and dad came home after spending a Sunday afternoon at her grandma's house that was "out in the sticks". When they walked in the house there was a handwritten note from Mary Christine's oldest brother James. It said. "Roger Moll was killed in Vietnam" Roger was the oldest son of their next neighbor.
Roger's funeral was sad. Mary Christine went up to the casket and looked at him. He was dressed in his soldier's suit. She didn't know what to feel. It was a loss that has taken her whole life to comprehend, and she still doesn't quite get it. Roger's mom did not ever get over it.
But life moves forward. And 45 years later Roger's name is engraved on the Vietnam memorial in Washington D.C. And he is still dead. And his real name is Roger Moll and he really did get killed in Vietnam. For what?
Some things never change....
April 10, 2013
Buenos DIas!
Guten Tag!
Bon Jour!
Wilkommen, bien venu, welcome!
Come into my Parky playhouse and let's have some fun....
Today the rain hitting my bedroom window woke me up. Then with the thunder rolling and banging through the sky I pulled the sheet and blanket up over my head and dozed. It was a dark and stormy morning.
Gee I feel like telling you all a story. Lately,I have been writing all day every day. The plot, characters, words, actions, are flowing out of my head like Niagra Falls. On a dark and stormy morning when we have to stay inside, stories are wonderful to read or listen to. You can listen to this because I am telling it to you.
Now everyone get your snacks eaten and clean up your areas. Please sit quietly and I will tell you a story.
There was once a little girl named Mary Christine. She was born in a time when there were no computers or cell phones, cable TV, microwaves, blow dryers, or touch tone telephones.
She DID have rotary dial phones with party lines. That does not have anything to do with illegal drugs! A party line was a telephone line that was shared by several families. You could pick up the phone and listen in on a neighbor's call.
Each family had their own ring so they would know the call was for them. Her family had a ring that was two short fast rings.
Mary Christine could not have cared less about the telephone. She would go outside and run down the sidewalk to her friends house and stand outside and yell their name, " Ciinnddyyy" she would call. And finally after about ten minutes and several yells out came Cindy. It was great to get a bunch of kids together and go to another's house. They would all yell "Gaarryyyyy!" or whatever the kids name was.
They played Hopscotch, Mother May I, or just hit the sandbox and create worlds in the sand. They had old gowns they played Dress Up with pretending to be fancy and rich and stuck up. Oh and there was Tag and BIke parades. They would decorate their bikes with balloons and put playing cards in between the spokes on the wheels so they would make a whirring noise as they pedaled around and around the block. Running through the sprinklers was a great way to cool down. Mary Christine was very jealous of all of her friends because they all had the sprinklers that went back and forth in a big arc while her dad only had a line sprinkler that lay across the grass and just shot the water straight up and it wasn't any fun at all she thought.
They would have Kool-Aid stands and try to sell paper cups of it from the back of Mary Christine's family car. It was a station wagon and the back door let down so you could sit on it with your legs and barfeet dangling and sell Kool-Aid very easily. Mary Christine lived on a busy street so they did sell a few cups, but they generally drank it all themselves.
Mary Christine went barefoot most of the summer. She would get up in the morning, have her breakfast, pull on her brothers hand-me-down shorts and shirt and head out the door without even brushing her hair. Her mom was around somewhere so she would just yell "bye mom" and slam out the back screen door.
The days went by so fast. Cindy's mom had this enormous bell on a post right by their back door. Her mom would ring it when it was time for Cindy to go home for supper. That ringing bell kind of put a damper on the day, so they eventually, slowly make their way home. But not before they made her mom mad enough to ring that bell a few more times. Each time it seemed a little louder and angrier, but they were having so much fun!
When it started to get a little dark out, they would play games like Bloody Murder or Kick the Can. They all knew every inch of that block. Hiding in garages, behind thick rows of bushes and fences seperating back yard from back yard. That was great fun because it was kind of scary! When Cindy's mom rang the bell again and the street lights were coming on it was time to go home take a bath and "wash those filthy dirty feet!". (That's what MAry Christine's mom said every night)
There were only three TV channels so TV was not that big of a deal. And the reception wasn't always the best. They would have to adjust the rabbit ears to try and get the best picture possible.
After supper Mary Christine and her brothers could watch some TV. The favorite night for her was Sunday after the evening church service. They would come home and Mary Christine and her brother closest in age, Davey (two years older) would get into their pajamas and lie down on their bellies in front of the TV faces propped in their hands and be transported to the "Wonderful World of Disney". It was in 'living color' but Mary Christine's family only had a black and white TV. It didn't matter. It's funny how you can't really miss something you've never had.
The world was changing all around her while she played away those beautiful days. Riots, assassinations, marches, protests, hippies, drugs, Woodstock, Vietnam. She had no inkling of any of it. Then one day everything really did change.
Mary Christine, two of her brothers, Davey and Paul, and her mom and dad came home after spending a Sunday afternoon at her grandma's house that was "out in the sticks". When they walked in the house there was a handwritten note from Mary Christine's oldest brother James. It said. "Roger Moll was killed in Vietnam" Roger was the oldest son of their next neighbor.
Roger's funeral was sad. Mary Christine went up to the casket and looked at him. He was dressed in his soldier's suit. She didn't know what to feel. It was a loss that has taken her whole life to comprehend, and she still doesn't quite get it. Roger's mom did not ever get over it.
But life moves forward. And 45 years later Roger's name is engraved on the Vietnam memorial in Washington D.C. And he is still dead. And his real name is Roger Moll and he really did get killed in Vietnam. For what?
Some things never change....
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