Forget for a moment that we’re just weeks away from a presidential election. Soak in this far more important news: They’ve pulled the plug on TaB! Shocking as that may seem, no doubt many of us are going all Aunt Ethel (from the classic movie and play Harvey): What? I thought they killed off that swill decades ago! Well, they should have. That stuff was nasty! Medicinal. Metallic. Sweetened with Saccharin. But back in the ’60s, it was all we…
The year was 1944. Dad’s family had just moved to Chatham Street in New Haven, Connecticut. He was not quite 14, and already hungry to earn some money. Before long, he had a job as a paperboy. The Morning Journal and Courier had been around since 1848. As indicated by its name, it was the morning paper, so Dad had to roll out of bed early – about 5:30am – six days a week, no matter what the weather. With…
There comes a time in every mother’s life when she simply has to put her foot down. Dad recalls the first time Mom did this. It was in the mid-1960s, we were living in Pittsfield, and there was too much cussin’ going on in our house. “Mom got on my case,” he remembers. I asked Dad, “So what was it, mostly ‘hell’ and ‘damn’?” ” … bastard, too.” The response came much sooner than I would have expected. For those…
Dad – who is this? Do you recognize her? We were going through old black-and-white photos yet again. Dad‘s voice softened, “Oh yes, that’s my Aunt Alice. She was so soft and cuddly. A good hugger.” Alice Plante was one of my paternal grandma‘s younger sisters. Ten years younger, to be exact. As I ticked off the names of the nine Plante siblings from our Ancestry family tree, Dad did the math. What an accomplishment for his grandma; she kept…
YOU! Close the door and lock it. Class begins on time. No latecomers! It was the first day of class. My final college class. And the professor was a madman. A MAD man, actually. Fred Brewer eventually told us he was a former editor of MAD Magazine, the irreverent comic-book-style periodical. He’d served as editor of the British edition. But this was Indiana University in June of 1980, my senior year. All I had left before leaving campus was one…
Today is the last day of summer. The temperatures have already cooled and the fields are ready for harvest. My darling tomato-picker has been busy all summer: Cameron wasn’t sure he’d like the taste of a grape tomato, but sampled a few each time he visited us this summer. He’s still not sure. When Gary and I went to spend some time with Dad in Connecticut earlier this month (quarantining all the while, as per the Nutmeg State‘s Covid rules),…
“Jelly” is an occasional topic of conversation in our household. It seems Gary was traumatized as a child by all the plum jelly he was forced to consume. Growing up on a farm, with parents who remembered The Great Depression like it was yesterday, Gary knew better than to complain. So he dutifully ate plum jelly on a slice of bread (he calls it “jelly bread,” which I’ve always found confusing) when it was served to him as a kid….
As a kid, it ticked me off that certain things were “boys only.” For example, my dad took my brothers bowling. But not me. “I’ll take you bowling on your wedding day,” Dad promised. I reminded him of that oft-spoken vow on Gary’s and my big day in 1982, but didn’t hold my father to it. It was the mid-1960s, and my older brothers were donning the special robes, lighting the candles, ringing the chimes, and burning the incense. My…
“I don’t know why you want to vote. You vote them in, the shit-asses do whatever they want anyway.” – Mike Mehling, circa 1940s Tuesday was the 100th anniversary of women getting the vote, so I started asking family members if they had any stories about our female ancestors voting for the first time, presumably in 1920. Gary’s immediate response was the above quote from his maternal grandfather, Mike Mehling (1888-1964). He certainly made no bones about his opinions, usually…
An estimated 10 percent of the population favors their left hand over their right. They are what’s known as left handed. As today is International Left Handers Day, online “facts” abound. Yes, I’m one of the ten-percenters. The weird thing is – so are two of my three brothers. That would make you think it’s genetic, right? Not in this case: Both of our parents are right-handed yet only one of their four children favors his right hand. And, if…