The Sunday Morning Muse, April 29, 2012

It's the last Sunday in April, and it is a beautiful Sunday. Going up to the 60's today. Nice.

I spent part of the morning going over the 1940 Census for my whole neighborhood. I scanned the
family names on neighboring streets searching for clues to my family research. Names jump out now and then as familiar. People long dead who used to own little neighborhood stores. An Italian family who owned a candy store on the hill. A Polish family who had the butcher shop. Funny how I could go through the entire township and, without looking at the street names, I could figure out pretty much where the census names were from, because many families still own those houses and passed them down.

I watched Who Do You Think You Are? on Friday night. Rob Lowe. Amazing story of his search into the life of his 5th Great Grandfather--who has the distinction of both fighting against us, and then with us during the Revolutionary War. He was a mercenary who came from Germany, who faught in the battle of Trenton, lost, taken prisoner, and was later given the option of going home to Germany, or staying here.

It's amazing to see the records that are out there for people to search out their own family stories. It is very time consuming however, for obvious reasons, but imagine the future, when so much is digitized. Tomorrow's children will really "know" their ancestors--through video recordings, audio journals, and who knows what else will be available in the future.

Or will they care? Will they want to look back? Will they seek meaning or advice or experiences from the past? Will the stories really be as exciting as the journeys made by the immigrants to America? Establishing a country? A neighborhood? Churches? A new life in a new world. There really is a charm to studying that
era. The personal struggles and triumphs are inspiring.

In the future, what if you find out that your great grandfather was just a ne'er do well? A guy born in Pittsburgh who spent his life drinking beer and going to football games? Never holding down a job for long. A couple of marriages and no real ambition to improve himself? Do you really want to see the videos he uploaded to YouTube of getting drunk at his friend's wedding?  Would you care who his friends were on Facebook? Would those things exist 60 years from now?

The Sunday Morning Muse, January 29, 2012

Musing the moon today...pondering moon colonies, moon pies... and it all makes me want to spoon.... by the light of the silvery moon.

When the moon is in the 7th house and Jupiter aligns with Mars.....peace will guide the planets and love will steer the stars.It's is a marvelous night for a moondance, and a fantabulous night to make romance.

 Did it take long to find me...I ask the faithful light? Did it take long to find me...and are you gonna stay the night?

I'm being followed by a moon shadow. I have been since second grade when I had to write a poem about what I want to be when I grow up. (I want to fly to the moon and be back by noon.)

 Do I want to live on the moon?  No. I'd be pretty claustrophobic in that space suit. But the moon is sure nice to look at, and dream upon.  And it would be a great launching point someday to other places. So, as much as it sounds like we can't afford it right now, and I have to stipulate I do not support Newt Gingrich for any office higher than dog catcher.....he's onto something here. I say let's go for it. To the moon, Alice!  To the moon.

Losing Track

New Year, new slate, open book. Blah, Blah Blah. 2011.

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Really? Ten years of the 21st century gone?

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My mother "lost track" of the years after the "19's" she said. I was sad when she said that. (She's 80.)

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But now I'm not doing so well at keeping "track" myself. I used to keep track of decades by music. I worked in radio all those years and could win a lot of bar bets with music trivia. Now I'm pretty much defeated in the mid 90's. I gave up on music then. No longer listen to anything new, unless it is old artists doing something new, or an indie group I hear on public radio. But nothing earthshattering. Nothing that defines a decade.

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I digress.

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So tomorrow night I'll go to bed early. Wake up to a new year that I hope in some way will be better for us all. A few more happy times, a few more friends, and maybe even some new music.

Even if I have to make up the songs myself.

Muppet News Flash

The Market was Down 450 Points Today

Treasury Secretary: CLAMPETT WITHDRAWAL TRIGGERS MARKET COLLAPSE. MR. DRYSDALE ON SUICIDE WATCH

WASHINGTON, D.C. - U.S. Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson said yesterday that the collapse of financial markets worldwide occurred as a result of the withdrawal of the Clampett fortune from the Beverly Hills Commerce Bank in Beverly Hills, California.
The withdrawal sent shock waves throughout the global economy, sending Lehman Brothers into bankruptcy and triggering the sale of Merrill Lynch to Bank of America.


(Every once in a while, the Carbolic Smog Ball comes through with a good laugh. I sure need one. Click on their link for the full story.)

A Whole Nother Way of Talking

I've been outside a lot lately so the blog posts have dropped off a bit. Chatting with my neighbor, Al, (the neighborhood groundhog killer) made me laugh today. After a long, hot day outside, he went inside to wrinch off. (no... that's not a typo... wrinch.) This is the same neighbor who said that my mom probably sprang her wrist. "It's worse to sprang your wrist than it is to break it," he says. I agree.... I sprang my ankle falling off a dance floor long ago... It's a Western PA thing. He went on to tell me that his friend Abie went to the "Choir-practor" for his bad back.

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There is something so "home" about all this. It's how people talk here. The Pittsburghese site does include wrinch as a verb, but I haven't found sprang yet. Glancing over the list I found I could relate to so many of them. How many times were we told as kids to get out of the dirt because our good clothes would get "roont?"

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I still think Gall-avant is a word. I just haven't spelled it right. "Don't go gall-avantin' all over God's Creation. I want you home by dark," I'd hear all the time. It means to just ride around for no good reason. I do a lot less gall-avantin' now that gas is four bucks a gallon.

If we stayed close to home we were usually told to watch out for the jaggerbushes when we picked blackberries. I've just assumed everyone everywhere has jaggerbushes. If we did get scratched... every mom had "mecuro-chrome" to put on it.

And there were plenty of Studda-bubbas around back then. The word is derivative of a Polish name for "Old Woman." (Stara Baba) It congers up images of grandmothers in babooshkas with long house dresses and sensible shoes, 'worshing' porches, or hanging clothes on the line. Most of them had a "fridge-adaire" in the house, and grew "tuhmaytuhs" in the back yard.

And .... for as many times Mom said "your gonna drive me to Dixmont," (translation: You are making me crazy) it never happened. Dixmont was a state mental hospital. It's closed now, so these days she just says "you are going to drive me to an early grave."

I Now Pronounce You... uhhh...Just Married

Here's a question I bet no one has ever asked you. If you could marry any inanimate object, what would it be? (Certainly makes the whole anti-gay marriage thing seem trivial in comparison, doesn't it?) Opens up a whole new avenue for those who remain unattached at the moment and wish to find a life long companion. Or perhaps some of you out there are already married to an inanimate object on your couch, and would consider a change of scenery?

I got to thinking about this after Neatorama posted the story about the woman who married the Eiffel Tower. I guess she changed her name and everything.... pledged to love and honor... but I dare not speculate about the uh... Honeymoon night.

Hmmmm.

Back to inanimate objects. Since I can't come up with anything off the top of my head, I will attempt to reason my way through the question. It would be unreasonable to marry, say, Stonehenge, or one of the Great Pyramids. Too far away anyhow. Hmmm. The Berlin Wall is taken. Bummer. Not that I really cared a lot. It's gone now anyway.. but Mrs. Berlin Wall lives with bits of barbed wire somewhere in Sweden. Follow the link. I can't make this up.

I could marry the Viaduct that spans a river and a junk yard in my hometown, but that is a bit bourgeois, wouldn't you think? Especially with all the possibilities out there. I mean, it's early in the game. There's got to be plenty of "single" choices out there.

What qualities would I even look for in an inanimate spouse? For a lasting relationship I need an object that has stood the test of time. Something tall.... something solid and well taken care of.

Maybe I can marry the last Big Boy in America!

Brother Louie

I remember hearing this song on the radio all the time in the 1970s... and my dear Aunt Millie absolutely HATED it. She'd say "What do you young people see in this music? All they do is yell Looooieee,looooieeee,looieee!"

What's great are some of the COMMENTS I've read on this video. Someone said the singer looks like Ray Sharkey in a Wig, and another person admited they always thought it was a black chick singing this song. Too funny. It's so great to find stuff like this on YouTube.

Empty Feedbag Blues

I wanted to post a good blues song.... something maybe about a horse, since I'm feeling kind of bad about today's big race. This is the first video I came across. I probably should have kept looking.

The Sunday Morning Muse, April 27, 2008

I don't envy Governor Perry of Texas. I'm referring to having to deal with the situation involving the children and womenfolk dressed in their drab garb, the tears, the fears, the uncertainty of what will happen now that the government decended upon their closed little world.
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The last time I checked, even people on a remote compound in Texas have to obey the laws of the state and nation. Trouble is proving who broke which one. And I personally don't believe you can hide behind religion and let men impregnate little girls or take them as wives but, again, proving it is another story.
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I feel for the little kids. They did no wrong, and now they are away from their mothers. But what future will they have if they are put back?To continue to think the color red is the devil's color and you should fear it? That sleeping with a man old enough to be your father is normal? What else have they been brainwashed to believe?

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But... I am hesistant to criticize. I do so on such a slippery slope. My mom was taught in Sunday School that she would go to Hell if she ate meat on Fridays. Hell. You know... fire...suffering forever. As a little kid she "almost forgot" and had the meat in her mouth and it SCARED her..... she spit it out just in time. But she remembers how she felt TO THIS DAY.
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Fortunately the Catlicks changed the rules when I grew up. I think they just made it so you only "not eat meat" on Friday's during Lent.
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All these years later, mom still makes fish sticks most Fridays... just in case.

The No No Song

Maybe it's a holdover from my days in radio, but I still check the Today in History sites once in a while just to see what jumps out at me. (DJ's are constantly looking for what they call Show Prep...or stuff to talk about.) Ringo Starr topped the charts on this day in 1975.

God Bless Us Everyone! -- Tiny Tim

The sick little boy with the beautiful voice..... what was the matter with him? Livescience has a great piece speculating about what actually ailed Tiny Tim. Kidney disease? Rickets? Internist Dr. Daniel J. Glunk, president-elect of the Pennsylvania Medical Society, examines the theories.

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Trivia:

How Small We Are, How Little We Know... is the title of an album of songs sung by Richard Beaumont... the Tiny Tim shown above--who starred in the Albert Finney version of Scrooge. (My favorite version)

The Sunday Morning Muse, October 28, 2007

Strolling down the costume aisle in the big box store, I saw this horribly lovely witch hat... it was black of course, with a pointy top, but was adorned with a beautiful green translucent bow made of a see through mesh material that was simply devine! And a wide assortment of cloaks, daggers, fake nails, spider jewelry and such that would make any witch's closet quite the fashion statement.

But is that what Halloween is all about? Fashion? I saw some costumes that looked more skanky than scary! Perhaps not enough left to the imagination, so to speak.


Rewind to the days of our youth. The faded, out-of-focus photographs from our school halloween parades..... those cold, and sometimes snowy Autumns of our childhoods..... back to the 1970's... when you had to be creative to come up with something really scary for halloween, something original! The alternative? You had to wear the horrible plastic masks with the tight
rubberbands around your head...that always broke. They had a little hole near the bottom to breathe through. Or you could wear the half mask. At least you could breathe, but they weren't very fun.

(I'm the cute little blonde bride. My little groom's name escapes me. But he did propose to me under the big oak tree during recess. Alas, the love didn't last.)

Dr. Phibes Versus Jason

Each year around this time when all the Halloween movies find their way to the front of the video stores, I still find myself going for the really old classics ---my favorite of course, Vincent Price. You can have your Friday the 13th's and Halloween movies, I'll take Dr. Phibes, House of Wax, The Pit and the Pendulum... House on Haunted Hill. Or how about The Fly?






I first saw these movies on Saturday afternoons, as a kid . Watching them in daylight was plenty scary enough... even without the blood and gore of today. But they were scary in a really far- out and strange sort of way. Like Dr. Phibes and his freaky organ with the mannequin band playing instruments .... and those insane methods he dreamed up to kill people.


I just dug up The Trailer from the Pit and the Pendulum. Classic Vincent Price!

Old Records, Old Friends

Maybe I've held on to my youth longer than some. I've got all of the record albums I managed to accumulate in my life since Donny and Marie were popular. Pop, disco, new wave, rock, classic rock, lounge music, blues, soul, novelty, Christmas music, country music, polkas and even a few movie soundtracks. I found stuff I didn't know I had.... The question is.... what am I gonna DO with them all?

I pared down my 45's, at least. Gave away most back in the early 90s... down to about 50 or so now. Yes, I had Alice Cooper's Eighteen. Stolen from my sister, I think.

But these albums.... I flip through some of them, and can remember where I was when I got them. Or I find myself singing lyrics I hadn't thought of in 20 years. Remembering how it felt to have the world ahead of me. Or when all I wanted was a car...and a cassette player.

I keep thinking maybe someday I'll have a real music room in my big house I plan to buy when I'm rich. I'll frame some of the album covers that haven't completely fallen apart--- and won't they look great on the walls! The Stones, Queen, Jethro Tull, Janis Joplin, Donovan, Elton John, Billy Joel, Alice Cooper, Cher, Three Dog Night.

I don't play them now. They are worn out. Crackly. I have a turntable, but rarely use it.

I asked friends what to do. One gave away her albums years ago, seemed suprized I still was lugging that stuff around... move to move. Another fellow offered to put them on Ebay for me. Neither seems right. To me it would be as painful as giving away family photographs. It sounds a bit odd, but that's how I feel.

So, back in the crates they go. I suppose they will be staying awhile longer.

Do You Remember the Name that Rhymes With. . .

Time sure flies. Do you believe this happened 10 years ago?

(from THOSE WERE THE DAYS)

1997 - Former Miller Brewing Company executive Jerold Mackenzie was vindicated by a jury in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Mackenzie had brought a suit against Miller after the company fired him from his $95,000-a-year job for sexual harassment. He had been commenting on the "Seinfeld" episode, "The Junior Mint", where Seinfeld’s TV character can’t remember the name of his new girlfriend -- only that it rhymes with a female body part. One of Mackenzie’s female co-workers complained to the Miller human resources director after she heard Mackenzie joking about the show.

96 Degrees today... Hot Enough for Ya?

The Three H's-- that's what the weather people call it. A day when it is so hot you can fry an egg on a sidewalk. Or stand still and sweat. A day when you want to be outside because you wait all winter for this kind of day.... yet, the airconditioning beckons you back inside.

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When I was a kid, on a day like today it was enough to just sit on a blanket under a tree and maybe look for four leaf clovers. Or run through the spray of a hose; swim in a 2 foot plastic pool... maybe even let grownups take pictures of me and my friends with silly hats.