Over my face did crawl a mite
He had mountains to climb
For the furrows and moles are at a height
That took him a lot of time
He eventually found a forest where
He may have gotten lost
Not that there's too much hair
But much is covered with frost
The mite pushed on until he was felt
Then my hand searched him out
And a severe body blow he was dealt
Even my head shook from the clout
But he was gone -- I think
Maybe I should see a shrink
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Newspaper Comics
In the 1930's, on a daily basis, the latest adventures of newspaper comic heroes were required reading for every young person. Required by themselves. As I recall, the comic strips were in a different-colored section of the Albany, New York newspaper. Among some of the hero types were Secret Agent X-9, Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers, the Phantom (showed up around 1936), Dick Tracy, Jungle Jim, Smilin' Jack, Terry and the Pirates, Dan Dunn, and perhaps others that have lapsed into the darkness of treasures lost.
Let's talk about Dick Tracy. One of the worst criminals involved in the strip was Boris Arson. I can recall that he had been captured and jailed, but, using the cleverness of his criminal mind, he carved a replica of an automatic gun out of a potato, which he colored with shoe polish. With this device, he escaped from jail, fooling the guard with his fake gun. He was later captured again, but his career was a nasty one which the comic strip fully exploited. Dick was surrounded by his gaggle of supporters like Tess Trueheart, Chief Pat Patton, and Junior, the young boy for whom Dick was mentor.
Thinking about Terry and the Pirates brings back memories of him and his buddy Pat Ryan and, of course, their nemesis, the Dragon Lady. Later, a television series was made which, unfortunately, featured a youngish starlet playing the part of Dragon Lady. I always thought Anna Mae Wong or Gale Sondergaard would have been much better. The memories of the pictures of Chinese junks remains with me.
Flash Gordon with Dale Arden, Dr. Zankoff, and Ming the Merciless were among my favorites with Buck Rogers and his companion Wilma Deering and their enemy Killer Kane, who was as cruel as they come.
All of the adventure-type comic strips kept us waiting eagerly for the next episode.
Li'l Abner came along in the 1930's with a whole entourage of memorable characters like Mammy and Pappy Yokum, Daisy Mae, Marryin' Sam, Moonbeam McSwine, Senator Phagbound, et al. The creator Al Capp introduced us to Sadie Hawkins Day and so many other new characters.
Some of these personalities made it to the "Little Big Book" publications. The cost, as I recollect, was ten cents. The size of the book was about four inches square and one and one-half inches thick. The format was: on the left-hand page was the written story; on the right-hand side was a one-panel cartoon or illustration. This format was carried through the entire book for a complete adventure.
Krazy Kat and Felix the Cat were feline characters -- with Ignatz Mouse always showing his love for Krazy Kat by hitting him with a brick. When he did that, several hearts would appear in the balloon above Krazy's head.
Hairbreadth Harry was always saving his love, Belinda Blinks, from the villainous Relentless Rudolph.
Major Hoople, Maggie and Jiggs, The Nutt Brothers (Ches and Wal), Moon Mullings, the Toonerville Trolley, Mutt and Jeff... where did they go? I suppose progress, mores, and fads changed the type of comics that today people approve. We can't forget Ella Cinders, who, like Cinderella, went from years to rags to riches. Where are they? Freckles and his Friends, Skippy by Percy Crosby, early Tarzan strips by Edgar Rice Burroughs... to what have we really progressed? Television and movies that beg for an appreciative audience? With "24" coming the closest to a comic strip venue with its continuing cliffhangers. I'm sure those who remember the comic strips mentioned above -- provided they still have the memories -- kind of miss them. At least they could take the place of what we get today.
Let's talk about Dick Tracy. One of the worst criminals involved in the strip was Boris Arson. I can recall that he had been captured and jailed, but, using the cleverness of his criminal mind, he carved a replica of an automatic gun out of a potato, which he colored with shoe polish. With this device, he escaped from jail, fooling the guard with his fake gun. He was later captured again, but his career was a nasty one which the comic strip fully exploited. Dick was surrounded by his gaggle of supporters like Tess Trueheart, Chief Pat Patton, and Junior, the young boy for whom Dick was mentor.
Thinking about Terry and the Pirates brings back memories of him and his buddy Pat Ryan and, of course, their nemesis, the Dragon Lady. Later, a television series was made which, unfortunately, featured a youngish starlet playing the part of Dragon Lady. I always thought Anna Mae Wong or Gale Sondergaard would have been much better. The memories of the pictures of Chinese junks remains with me.
Flash Gordon with Dale Arden, Dr. Zankoff, and Ming the Merciless were among my favorites with Buck Rogers and his companion Wilma Deering and their enemy Killer Kane, who was as cruel as they come.
All of the adventure-type comic strips kept us waiting eagerly for the next episode.
Li'l Abner came along in the 1930's with a whole entourage of memorable characters like Mammy and Pappy Yokum, Daisy Mae, Marryin' Sam, Moonbeam McSwine, Senator Phagbound, et al. The creator Al Capp introduced us to Sadie Hawkins Day and so many other new characters.
Some of these personalities made it to the "Little Big Book" publications. The cost, as I recollect, was ten cents. The size of the book was about four inches square and one and one-half inches thick. The format was: on the left-hand page was the written story; on the right-hand side was a one-panel cartoon or illustration. This format was carried through the entire book for a complete adventure.
Krazy Kat and Felix the Cat were feline characters -- with Ignatz Mouse always showing his love for Krazy Kat by hitting him with a brick. When he did that, several hearts would appear in the balloon above Krazy's head.
Hairbreadth Harry was always saving his love, Belinda Blinks, from the villainous Relentless Rudolph.
Major Hoople, Maggie and Jiggs, The Nutt Brothers (Ches and Wal), Moon Mullings, the Toonerville Trolley, Mutt and Jeff... where did they go? I suppose progress, mores, and fads changed the type of comics that today people approve. We can't forget Ella Cinders, who, like Cinderella, went from years to rags to riches. Where are they? Freckles and his Friends, Skippy by Percy Crosby, early Tarzan strips by Edgar Rice Burroughs... to what have we really progressed? Television and movies that beg for an appreciative audience? With "24" coming the closest to a comic strip venue with its continuing cliffhangers. I'm sure those who remember the comic strips mentioned above -- provided they still have the memories -- kind of miss them. At least they could take the place of what we get today.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
SCHOOL
At four and a half years old, I was able to write my name. So my parents felt I was smart enough to go to school. Ordinarily, the school, which happened to be across the street from where I lived in Albany, New York, wanted to start the children at five years of age. However, somehow, my parents talked them into allowing me to start earlier. Throughout all my school years, I was usually the youngest person in class.
The first day I was to attend kindergarten, my mother took me. I was not too happy about going, so she introduced me to the teacher, a Miss Powers, I believe. Then my mother said she would stay outside the door to the classroom which had a diamond-shaped window for her to look through, but more importantly, for me to see that she was still there. So she left me in the classroom and I kept looking at the door to make sure she was still there. I guess I glanced away from the door, because the next time I looked, she was gone! I believe panic set in and there is no doubt that I started to cry. As I recall, there were other kindergartners who were crying along with me. Fortunately, I did not have this problem with my kids. (I wasn't the one who took them to school.) I'm sure I stopped crying eventually.
One day on the way home from school, a man with a pony and a camera stopped me and asked me where I lived. Not having been warned about this, I told him, "Right over there." Then he said, "How would you like your picture taken on the pony?" I said, "O.K." So he lifted me up, set me on the pony, and took my picture. I then went home, not saying anything to my parents about the picture. A few days later, the man appeared at our house door with the pictures of me on the pony. My mother was surprised, and asked me, "Did you tell this man that it was all right for him to take your picture on the pony?" I said, "Yes." My mother bought the picture, but after the man left, then I got the lesson, "Never talk to strangers!" Today, that lesson is drummed into children as soon as they are able to understand words.
The first day I was to attend kindergarten, my mother took me. I was not too happy about going, so she introduced me to the teacher, a Miss Powers, I believe. Then my mother said she would stay outside the door to the classroom which had a diamond-shaped window for her to look through, but more importantly, for me to see that she was still there. So she left me in the classroom and I kept looking at the door to make sure she was still there. I guess I glanced away from the door, because the next time I looked, she was gone! I believe panic set in and there is no doubt that I started to cry. As I recall, there were other kindergartners who were crying along with me. Fortunately, I did not have this problem with my kids. (I wasn't the one who took them to school.) I'm sure I stopped crying eventually.
One day on the way home from school, a man with a pony and a camera stopped me and asked me where I lived. Not having been warned about this, I told him, "Right over there." Then he said, "How would you like your picture taken on the pony?" I said, "O.K." So he lifted me up, set me on the pony, and took my picture. I then went home, not saying anything to my parents about the picture. A few days later, the man appeared at our house door with the pictures of me on the pony. My mother was surprised, and asked me, "Did you tell this man that it was all right for him to take your picture on the pony?" I said, "Yes." My mother bought the picture, but after the man left, then I got the lesson, "Never talk to strangers!" Today, that lesson is drummed into children as soon as they are able to understand words.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
STORE
During the 1930's, in Albany, New York, imaginations provided for fun things to do. Rather than having toys for every possible situation, when we were kids (pre-school and kindergarten age), we used materials that were readily available* -- such as weeds and what the trees had to offer.
We would play a game called "store." Two kids would be the storekeepers. They would obtain some sort of a box, probably an orange crate**, upon which their wares could be sold. The empty lot in the middle of the neighborhood was never mowed, so it provided a lot of different weeds. The "storekeepers" would gather these weeds to act as groceries to be displayed on the orange crate. There were dandelion greens, ragweed, goldenrod, as well as plants bearing burr pods that, when opened, had white-tufted seeds. Also, there were leaves from trees, as well as the wing-like seed carriers from maple trees that looked like helicopters when they feel from the trees.*** Acorns were also available. All this vegetation would take the place of asparagus, beans, beats, celery, and a host of other vegetables.
We kids that weren't the proprietors of the "store" would request a pound of this or a bunch of that, and the proprietors would take the appropriate greens from their display, wrap them in newspaper, and give them to us in exchange for pretend money.
One day while I was playing store, some of the kids said to me, "How would you like to see our hut," which was in another empty lot that was like a forest. The only thing wrong was that the forest was several blocks away. I said "okay" and away we went. My Aunt Celia, one of the most kindhearted relatives I had, was looking after me because my parents were both working in my father's pharmacy. I did not let Aunt Celia know that I was leaving the area of our neighborhood. So I went with my friends to this glorious forest and saw the "hut" they had assembled out of branches, old pieces of wood, and tar paper. After staying there a bit, my conscience slowly began to affect my judgment and I thought I had better go back home. As I neared my house, Richard R., one of my boyhood buddies, came up to me and said, "Boy, your Aunt Celia's really upset -- she said she would pay me a nickel if I found you and here you are!"
"You didn't find me. I was on my way here anyway." I resented the fact that Richard was getting a nickel for finding me. Nickels were hard to come by in those days. However, Aunt Celia was now out of the house and coming towards me, I presume to give Richard the nickel, which she did and then deal with me emotionally. No spanking, but a loving hug and admonition not to ever, ever do anything like that again.
"Are you going to tell my mother and father what I did?"
"I haven't decided yet."
Oh great, now I've got to sweat this ordeal out. I recognize now that the old Jewish guilt trip was being laid on me. But when my parents got home, Aunt Celia never mentioned a word. As I look back on this episode now, it was probably because I was able to disappear without her knowledge and she was supposed to be watching me closely.
* One of the items we used to make was a rubber band gun. The rubber bands were not the normal everyday rubber bands we know today, but were cut from tire tubes, which are no longer used today. These were about 1" wide. Together with a clothespin and a short board about 18" long, plus a number of rubber bands, a gun would be improvised. The one-piece wooden clothespin, with one of its legs broken off, was used as the trigger. One person was ingenious enough to make a rubber-band machine-gun.
** Orange crates turned out to be some of the most utilitarian items for kids to use in various ways. For instance, they could be used for storage shelves in some of the clubhouses (huts) we built in those days. Also, by attaching a board on the bottom of the crate and by nailing the separated two ends of an old-time skate to that board, and with two smaller boards nailed to the top o f the crate for handlebars -- one had himself a scooter.
*** Once the maple tree seed pods landed, we used to pick them up, separate one "blade" from another, each containing a seed, and split apart the seed-carrying blade. It had a sticky inside surface, which we proceeded to put on our noses. It looked like a small green fin stuck to our noses. The leaves, at autumn time, would provide piles of soft landings for us to run and jump into. And then there were maple leaf fights, where we would take clumps of leaves and throw them at each other, nobody getting hurt. So, with little money and lots of improvisation, we were able to have lots of fun.
We would play a game called "store." Two kids would be the storekeepers. They would obtain some sort of a box, probably an orange crate**, upon which their wares could be sold. The empty lot in the middle of the neighborhood was never mowed, so it provided a lot of different weeds. The "storekeepers" would gather these weeds to act as groceries to be displayed on the orange crate. There were dandelion greens, ragweed, goldenrod, as well as plants bearing burr pods that, when opened, had white-tufted seeds. Also, there were leaves from trees, as well as the wing-like seed carriers from maple trees that looked like helicopters when they feel from the trees.*** Acorns were also available. All this vegetation would take the place of asparagus, beans, beats, celery, and a host of other vegetables.
We kids that weren't the proprietors of the "store" would request a pound of this or a bunch of that, and the proprietors would take the appropriate greens from their display, wrap them in newspaper, and give them to us in exchange for pretend money.
One day while I was playing store, some of the kids said to me, "How would you like to see our hut," which was in another empty lot that was like a forest. The only thing wrong was that the forest was several blocks away. I said "okay" and away we went. My Aunt Celia, one of the most kindhearted relatives I had, was looking after me because my parents were both working in my father's pharmacy. I did not let Aunt Celia know that I was leaving the area of our neighborhood. So I went with my friends to this glorious forest and saw the "hut" they had assembled out of branches, old pieces of wood, and tar paper. After staying there a bit, my conscience slowly began to affect my judgment and I thought I had better go back home. As I neared my house, Richard R., one of my boyhood buddies, came up to me and said, "Boy, your Aunt Celia's really upset -- she said she would pay me a nickel if I found you and here you are!"
"You didn't find me. I was on my way here anyway." I resented the fact that Richard was getting a nickel for finding me. Nickels were hard to come by in those days. However, Aunt Celia was now out of the house and coming towards me, I presume to give Richard the nickel, which she did and then deal with me emotionally. No spanking, but a loving hug and admonition not to ever, ever do anything like that again.
"Are you going to tell my mother and father what I did?"
"I haven't decided yet."
Oh great, now I've got to sweat this ordeal out. I recognize now that the old Jewish guilt trip was being laid on me. But when my parents got home, Aunt Celia never mentioned a word. As I look back on this episode now, it was probably because I was able to disappear without her knowledge and she was supposed to be watching me closely.
* One of the items we used to make was a rubber band gun. The rubber bands were not the normal everyday rubber bands we know today, but were cut from tire tubes, which are no longer used today. These were about 1" wide. Together with a clothespin and a short board about 18" long, plus a number of rubber bands, a gun would be improvised. The one-piece wooden clothespin, with one of its legs broken off, was used as the trigger. One person was ingenious enough to make a rubber-band machine-gun.
** Orange crates turned out to be some of the most utilitarian items for kids to use in various ways. For instance, they could be used for storage shelves in some of the clubhouses (huts) we built in those days. Also, by attaching a board on the bottom of the crate and by nailing the separated two ends of an old-time skate to that board, and with two smaller boards nailed to the top o f the crate for handlebars -- one had himself a scooter.
*** Once the maple tree seed pods landed, we used to pick them up, separate one "blade" from another, each containing a seed, and split apart the seed-carrying blade. It had a sticky inside surface, which we proceeded to put on our noses. It looked like a small green fin stuck to our noses. The leaves, at autumn time, would provide piles of soft landings for us to run and jump into. And then there were maple leaf fights, where we would take clumps of leaves and throw them at each other, nobody getting hurt. So, with little money and lots of improvisation, we were able to have lots of fun.
Friday, January 30, 2009
SO DIFFERENT
The 1940's: World War II was in progress. In Albany, New York, air raid wardens patrolled the streets at night to make sure that the people in the neighborhood had their lights out, or used blackout curtains that allowed lights to be on inside the house without any external seepage. New York City was in a brown-out. Everyone was serious about reacting to the various requirements during the war.
My Uncle Lou had a grocery store where I would work after school and Saturdays. Customers would bring in ration stamps and tokens to obtain their needs. They were limited by the number of stamps/tokens the had, so they really could not overly stock up on various items -- canned goods and the such. Cheese and butter were extremely scarce. People were happy to get a quarter-pound stick of butter. This was the beginning of the popularity of oleo margarine. (Oleo was available with coloring packets used to mix with the oleo to obtain the butter color.) "Store cheese," a tasty cheddar-like cheese, came in large round slabs. Various-size pieces were cut -- 1/4 pound, 1/2 pound, or whatever was able to be purchased with the ration stamps. (However, I often found myself cutting off a sliver or two because it was so good.)
Coffee was scarce, as were cigarettes. Aside from the top sellers like Camels, Chesterfields, Old Gold, and Lucky Strike, unknown brands came on the market -- names people never heard of, some from Canada, but people didn't care as long as they could get their cigarette. Lucky Strike changed the color of their package from green to white, using the slogan, "Lucky Strike Green has gone to war."
Gasoline had different alphabet designations for the rations of gas. People whose business depended on gas more so than the usual going to work and then back home, were given a higher priority. For instance, my uncle, who delivered groceries from call-in orders, got a higher priority for gas. More people used the bus transportation system. The buses were standing-room-only. The term "black market" came into usage as some people could obtain more gas with less than the required rationing limits.
In Rochester, New York, young people were urged to save newspapers and bundle them for collection. The term was coined, "Paper Commandos," and some sort of a reward was offered for those kids who bundled the most newspapers (probably an increase in a pretend rank). Tin cans and toothpaste tubes (which were metal) were also part of the conservation effort.
As children, and into the war effort, we obtained a set of enemy plane recognition cards and tried to learn the silhouettes of these planes as well as the Allied airships. That's why it's strange, today, to talk about the Mitsubishi car when, years ago, we learned to recognize Mitsubishi planes as enemy aircraft.
"Loose lips sink ships" was the motto to keep us from any sort of distribution of war-sensitive material. Censorship was prevalent. In order to cut down the bulk of letters being sent back and forth, "V-Mail" was introduced. This is where specific formatted paper was supplied, upon which the letters were written, then sent, read by the censor, and photocopied to a smaller size, eventually arriving either to the service person or the person back home. Can you imagine that every letter was read by the censors? At times, some of the lines that were written were blocked out to prevent actual soldier locations from being disclosed to the people back home.
Today, I presume (I haven't really looked for any) baseball cards, in a pack with a flat piece of bubble gum, are still being sold. A totally different kind of cards were being sold and collected during WWII. These were called "war cards" and were being sold even prior to WWII, when the Chinese-Japanese war was being waged. Also, some WWI cards made their way into this market. Then, with the advent of WWII, all theaters of conflict were represented by these cards. A game was played with these cards. They were spun toward a wall and the one closest to the wall would collect the other cards in the game. We would crumple the cards for a softer landing, so they wouldn't bounce, or we'd wax the cards so they had better sliding power to the wall.
The war cards were very graphic and in color. To this day, I remember one card in particular that showed a hand with a part of a bloody arm hanging on to some barbed wire designed to prevent the enemy from gaining access to trenches. Today, these would probably be deemed too sensitive to present any of the current battles. And in today's world, from which point of view would the wars be presented? In WWII, there was only one point of view, for the most part, and that was that the Allies must beat the Axis powers.
Songs such as "Johnny Zero," "There'll Be Bluebirds over the White Cliffs of Dover," "Coming in on a Wing and a Prayer," "Johnny Doughboy Found a Rose in Ireland," "I'll Be Seeing You," "American Patrol," "Let's Remember Pearl Harbor," and so many more were written to capture the mood of the country at that time.
War movies, of course, were very popular. Some were combat films and some were love stories about the servicemen going overseas and returning. Some didn't make it back and there wasn't a dry eye in the audience for those situations.
The people were just about 100% behind the war effort. The national energy was focused. It is rare that this national energy has been directed toward anything since then, where sacrifices were made by everyone to further a cause or, to put it another way, where positive energy was used, by most, to further a cause. We did come together after 9/11, but since then we've been splintered. Let's hope something, besides a war, moves us in a positive way towards creating something beneficial for all -- like eliminating cancer.
My Uncle Lou had a grocery store where I would work after school and Saturdays. Customers would bring in ration stamps and tokens to obtain their needs. They were limited by the number of stamps/tokens the had, so they really could not overly stock up on various items -- canned goods and the such. Cheese and butter were extremely scarce. People were happy to get a quarter-pound stick of butter. This was the beginning of the popularity of oleo margarine. (Oleo was available with coloring packets used to mix with the oleo to obtain the butter color.) "Store cheese," a tasty cheddar-like cheese, came in large round slabs. Various-size pieces were cut -- 1/4 pound, 1/2 pound, or whatever was able to be purchased with the ration stamps. (However, I often found myself cutting off a sliver or two because it was so good.)
Coffee was scarce, as were cigarettes. Aside from the top sellers like Camels, Chesterfields, Old Gold, and Lucky Strike, unknown brands came on the market -- names people never heard of, some from Canada, but people didn't care as long as they could get their cigarette. Lucky Strike changed the color of their package from green to white, using the slogan, "Lucky Strike Green has gone to war."
Gasoline had different alphabet designations for the rations of gas. People whose business depended on gas more so than the usual going to work and then back home, were given a higher priority. For instance, my uncle, who delivered groceries from call-in orders, got a higher priority for gas. More people used the bus transportation system. The buses were standing-room-only. The term "black market" came into usage as some people could obtain more gas with less than the required rationing limits.
In Rochester, New York, young people were urged to save newspapers and bundle them for collection. The term was coined, "Paper Commandos," and some sort of a reward was offered for those kids who bundled the most newspapers (probably an increase in a pretend rank). Tin cans and toothpaste tubes (which were metal) were also part of the conservation effort.
As children, and into the war effort, we obtained a set of enemy plane recognition cards and tried to learn the silhouettes of these planes as well as the Allied airships. That's why it's strange, today, to talk about the Mitsubishi car when, years ago, we learned to recognize Mitsubishi planes as enemy aircraft.
"Loose lips sink ships" was the motto to keep us from any sort of distribution of war-sensitive material. Censorship was prevalent. In order to cut down the bulk of letters being sent back and forth, "V-Mail" was introduced. This is where specific formatted paper was supplied, upon which the letters were written, then sent, read by the censor, and photocopied to a smaller size, eventually arriving either to the service person or the person back home. Can you imagine that every letter was read by the censors? At times, some of the lines that were written were blocked out to prevent actual soldier locations from being disclosed to the people back home.
Today, I presume (I haven't really looked for any) baseball cards, in a pack with a flat piece of bubble gum, are still being sold. A totally different kind of cards were being sold and collected during WWII. These were called "war cards" and were being sold even prior to WWII, when the Chinese-Japanese war was being waged. Also, some WWI cards made their way into this market. Then, with the advent of WWII, all theaters of conflict were represented by these cards. A game was played with these cards. They were spun toward a wall and the one closest to the wall would collect the other cards in the game. We would crumple the cards for a softer landing, so they wouldn't bounce, or we'd wax the cards so they had better sliding power to the wall.
The war cards were very graphic and in color. To this day, I remember one card in particular that showed a hand with a part of a bloody arm hanging on to some barbed wire designed to prevent the enemy from gaining access to trenches. Today, these would probably be deemed too sensitive to present any of the current battles. And in today's world, from which point of view would the wars be presented? In WWII, there was only one point of view, for the most part, and that was that the Allies must beat the Axis powers.
Songs such as "Johnny Zero," "There'll Be Bluebirds over the White Cliffs of Dover," "Coming in on a Wing and a Prayer," "Johnny Doughboy Found a Rose in Ireland," "I'll Be Seeing You," "American Patrol," "Let's Remember Pearl Harbor," and so many more were written to capture the mood of the country at that time.
War movies, of course, were very popular. Some were combat films and some were love stories about the servicemen going overseas and returning. Some didn't make it back and there wasn't a dry eye in the audience for those situations.
The people were just about 100% behind the war effort. The national energy was focused. It is rare that this national energy has been directed toward anything since then, where sacrifices were made by everyone to further a cause or, to put it another way, where positive energy was used, by most, to further a cause. We did come together after 9/11, but since then we've been splintered. Let's hope something, besides a war, moves us in a positive way towards creating something beneficial for all -- like eliminating cancer.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
PLEASE FORGIVE ME, DONNA C.
When things got rough, economy-wise, in the 30's, my father's pharmacy fell prey to a cut-rate drugstore that had moved into the neighborhood. So, my father went to work for someone else in their pharmacy. This necessitated our moving to another location in Rochester, New York.
Prior to the move and at the beginning of the school year, a young lady by the name of Donna C. joined our class at school. Donna, up to that time, was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. As I look back, she had that Kathryn Grayson beauty. I immediately fell in love with her. Somehow, I found out where she lived, probably by following her home -- talk about stalking. Once I found out where she lived, my dog Pete, a smooth-haired fox terrier, and I would get up extra early and go to her house, at least across the street from her house, and parallel her walking to school. It was obvious what I was doing, to Donna's girlfriend, who kind of razzed me, because she got to walk with Donna and I didn't. Once we got to school, I told Pete to go home, and, smart dog that he was, he did just that.
Near the end of the school year (fifth grade) was when the move took place. I was a bit upset because I had made little headway with Donna, and I was leaving all my friends. However, a new neighborhood brought new opportunities for friends and adventures.
Up to that time, I had a two-wheeled scooter, one that was propelled with one leg on the platform between two wheels, and the other leg pushed against the sidewalk or road. There were handlebars to grip while all this locomotion was taking place.
One weekend day, after we had moved, I had the desire to visit some of my chums in the old neighborhood. So I took my scooter and "scooted" over to where Jimmy Decker lived. Little did I realize that the distance was 2.2 miles. I visited with my friends and then scooted back home. By the time I reached most of the way home, I was so tired of scooting I got off the scooter and walked it the rest of the way -- no more "scooting" any long distances.
Most of the kids in the neighborhood had bicycles and I finally prevailed upon my parents that I needed a bike. Fortunately, the boy upstairs (we lived in a four-apartment house) had reached the age where he could dive a car and was willing to sell his bike. My father bought the bike for five dollars. It was a Rollfast. I did all sorts of things to that bake. I put squirrel tails on the handlebars, bought a horn and a light, hiked the seat way up, as well as the handlebars, and loved my new possession.
By now, I was in sixth grade and the testosterone was making an early appearance. My thoughts somehow drifted to Donna. The testosterone also brought a new bravado. I would bike over to the old neighborhood and ask Donna to go to the movies. A date I thought I could afford. So I biked the 2.2 miles, a lot easier than scootering, and found myself outside Donna and her mother's (a single mom) apartment.
The apartment was located at the back of a house. Gathering my courage, I went up to the back door and knocked. Mrs. C. answered the door and I asked, "Is Donna home?" She called, "Donna, you have a visitor." Donna made her appearance. I wasn't sure how I would be greeted. Donna smiled and said, "Harvey, what are you doing here?" I bravely answered, "I'd like to take you to the movies this Saturday afternoon." (It was Wednesday when all this took place.) Donna looked at her mother and asked, "Would it be all right?" Her mother asked me, "What time would you be calling for Donna?" I said, since the movie started at 2:00pm, "How does 1:30 sound?" Donna said, "That sounds OK to me. Mother?" Her mother said, "That sounds OK to me, too. We'll see you Saturday at 1:30." I said, "Swell -- I'll see you then." I was on Cloud Nine -- I had a date with Donna C.
Saturday morning rolled around and I found myself broke -- not even able to pay the 12 cents apiece for the tickets, much less a nickle to split a candy bar. I stayed at home bemoaning my fate. I never had any more contact with Donna C. I was imagining how she was getting herself ready for the "date" -- how she was feeling and how her mother must have felt. I was miserable. So I finally write this apology in hopes that wherever you are, Donna C., you will forgive me. I'm sorry.
Prior to the move and at the beginning of the school year, a young lady by the name of Donna C. joined our class at school. Donna, up to that time, was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. As I look back, she had that Kathryn Grayson beauty. I immediately fell in love with her. Somehow, I found out where she lived, probably by following her home -- talk about stalking. Once I found out where she lived, my dog Pete, a smooth-haired fox terrier, and I would get up extra early and go to her house, at least across the street from her house, and parallel her walking to school. It was obvious what I was doing, to Donna's girlfriend, who kind of razzed me, because she got to walk with Donna and I didn't. Once we got to school, I told Pete to go home, and, smart dog that he was, he did just that.
Near the end of the school year (fifth grade) was when the move took place. I was a bit upset because I had made little headway with Donna, and I was leaving all my friends. However, a new neighborhood brought new opportunities for friends and adventures.
Up to that time, I had a two-wheeled scooter, one that was propelled with one leg on the platform between two wheels, and the other leg pushed against the sidewalk or road. There were handlebars to grip while all this locomotion was taking place.
One weekend day, after we had moved, I had the desire to visit some of my chums in the old neighborhood. So I took my scooter and "scooted" over to where Jimmy Decker lived. Little did I realize that the distance was 2.2 miles. I visited with my friends and then scooted back home. By the time I reached most of the way home, I was so tired of scooting I got off the scooter and walked it the rest of the way -- no more "scooting" any long distances.
Most of the kids in the neighborhood had bicycles and I finally prevailed upon my parents that I needed a bike. Fortunately, the boy upstairs (we lived in a four-apartment house) had reached the age where he could dive a car and was willing to sell his bike. My father bought the bike for five dollars. It was a Rollfast. I did all sorts of things to that bake. I put squirrel tails on the handlebars, bought a horn and a light, hiked the seat way up, as well as the handlebars, and loved my new possession.
By now, I was in sixth grade and the testosterone was making an early appearance. My thoughts somehow drifted to Donna. The testosterone also brought a new bravado. I would bike over to the old neighborhood and ask Donna to go to the movies. A date I thought I could afford. So I biked the 2.2 miles, a lot easier than scootering, and found myself outside Donna and her mother's (a single mom) apartment.
The apartment was located at the back of a house. Gathering my courage, I went up to the back door and knocked. Mrs. C. answered the door and I asked, "Is Donna home?" She called, "Donna, you have a visitor." Donna made her appearance. I wasn't sure how I would be greeted. Donna smiled and said, "Harvey, what are you doing here?" I bravely answered, "I'd like to take you to the movies this Saturday afternoon." (It was Wednesday when all this took place.) Donna looked at her mother and asked, "Would it be all right?" Her mother asked me, "What time would you be calling for Donna?" I said, since the movie started at 2:00pm, "How does 1:30 sound?" Donna said, "That sounds OK to me. Mother?" Her mother said, "That sounds OK to me, too. We'll see you Saturday at 1:30." I said, "Swell -- I'll see you then." I was on Cloud Nine -- I had a date with Donna C.
Saturday morning rolled around and I found myself broke -- not even able to pay the 12 cents apiece for the tickets, much less a nickle to split a candy bar. I stayed at home bemoaning my fate. I never had any more contact with Donna C. I was imagining how she was getting herself ready for the "date" -- how she was feeling and how her mother must have felt. I was miserable. So I finally write this apology in hopes that wherever you are, Donna C., you will forgive me. I'm sorry.
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