I have fond memories of dressing up, do you? I remember being told to “put on my Sunday best” for church. When we went to visit my grandparents or “the relatives” I was asked to wear something nice for the occasion. And, although I was a tomboy (a phrase so outdated that it went out with my scuffed saddle shoes), there were numerous reasons to dress up.
Nice clothes were a sign of the importance of the outing. The “dress” demonstrated respect for those for whom you were visiting. But subliminally, the outcome of the attire was a direct reflection on one’s behavior (and father always knew best).
Recalling my first airplane trip as a very special occasion, my mother and I wore gloves and daddy donned a hat. Flying was reserved for that cross-country trip and important family reunion.
My father and his brothers (which numbered that of a baseball team) would dress up for a day at Wrigley Field. While mother and her sisters as well as my female cousins and I would put on party dresses and have a picnic at the forest preserves.
Ladies never wore black to weddings; sport coats were considered casual attire, and mothers didn’t try to dress like their teenage daughters.
When did all of that change?
It didn’t happen overnight, but it certainly was a movement that began in the 1970’s.
Described by modern historians as a time of social, progressive change in values, the seventies were coined as the “me” generation.
Recently, I asked my mother about how she viewed these radical changes in society.
“When the skirts got shorter,” she began, “and men’s hair grew longer, values went out the window.” Mother is never one to mince her words, especially when it comes to putting on our Sunday Best!
Just then I dropped the arm of the stereo causing harm to Frank’s flawless voice.
Kindergarten — Again
September 12, 2018Do you remember kindergarten? Our children are grown. We have no grandkids, and there are no memories of kindergarten. Seriously, that was more than 50 years ago. But then something magical happened.
At the beginning of this school year, I began a powerful journey that has taken me on two paths. On the first road. I have returned to the kindergarten classroom; this time as a volunteer. The second is an amazing walk that has opened the doors and windows into my first memories of school. I remember when pre-school was “nursery” school. As for kindergarten…
The adage, “the more things change, the more they stay the same” certainly applies to the kindergarten experience. Except for the kindergarteners “these days” appear more self-assured, more confident, more experienced in their world. Certainly more so than I recall.
Kindergarten is still about the play, but transitioning that play from home into another environment where numbers and letters become manipulatives and are toys! Well, it’s more colorful, more interesting, more engaging than I recall.
It seems I have forgotten all those learning activities, however, after eight weeks in the classroom, my kindergarten memories begin to return. We are in a safe place. We are making friends. We are becoming comfortable with a new routine and look forward to knowing, “what comes next.” We are following directions, taking turns, sitting quietly and sharing.
“Dick and Jane” are nowhere to be found, but “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” is still around! Yes, surrounded by books, kindergarteners still enjoy music and movement. Why last week we did the hokey pokey and struggled with finding that right arm and that left arm! But, I remember now, that kindergarten was fun, and fortunately, it is even more so today, the second time around.
Those Lazy Days of Summer
September 12, 2018With the arrival of spring, and as the days grow warmer and longer, we begin to anticipate summer; at least that’s how it was when I was a child. To ease my mother’s nerves, we came up with a School’s Out Calendar! The day after Memorial Day the homemade brightly colored calendar was taped to the refrigerator and a thick, black, grease or china marker hung at its side. Do you remember that wood pencil that is sharpened by pulling a string to peel off the outer coating covered in paper?
We didn’t have rocket-making or robotics camps, or camps with outings to Raging Waters or Knotts Berry Farm. I don’t recall any camps, “back in the day” except for two weeks of vacation Bible school. Those were the lazy days of summer.
Oh, we anticipated dad’s two-week vacation, which always meant a road trip. Beyond that, summer took on a whole new meaning: sleepovers and staying up late, backyard swim days and days spent with Gramma. Those special days were always marked on the calendar because they meant delightful treats and playing on the street with the neighborhood kids. I’d see Gramma sit at the window with watchful eyes as we drew hopscotch on the road or played double dutch with jump ropes. My fondest memories were of us stretched out on the lawn cloud spotting. Our imaginations would run wild as beasts and witches or animals rolled against the blue sky.
By August, boredom would set in, just about the time those “dog days of summer” arrived. I remember when summer seemed to last forever and we would wish it would never end.
Ringing in the New Year…
September 12, 2018Whatever bells you use to ring in the New Year, each of us has memories of the special night! Long before Dick Clark there was Guy Lombardo. No matter your age, you must remember the images of long ago: the big band music, people dressed in their finest attire, dancing and singing Auld lang syne! The torch was passed on to the king of American Bandstand, Dick Clark. He brought a renewed air of inspiration to a younger generation with a ball drop in Times Square.
Tradition is what joins the present to the past. It can also be a means to connect today’s families to rich cultural customs. For us, the New Year blends southern hospitality to central European warmth. I remember with great satisfaction welcoming in the New Year. The key ingredients were food, family and fun.
According to mother, New Year’s meant good fortune which could only happen if you started the year off with Black-eyed peas, cornbread which symbolized the glories of gold and ham. I never understood how black-eyed peas showed humility and invited in good fortune, but once a year the peas were soaked and served.
My paternal grandparents assured me every year that Gingerbread cakes, hot tea and hearty bigos, meat and cabbage would certainly be the path to a fabulous new year.
My husband and I have melded both traditions and added our own. In an inconspicuous space on the bookshelf, your eyes may miss the large box. Throughout the year we fill it with mementos: movie stubs, matches from restaurants, brochures from art galleries, programs from lectures and even photos from special gatherings along the way. On New Year’s Eve, we gather around the fire and let the contents of the box fall upon the dining room table. With each slip of paper, we pause and remember when. And then, when our memories our full and our hearts emptied, we make room to ring in the New Year.
Technology… Things of the Past
September 12, 2018“I’ve got gadgets and gizmos a-plenty. I’ve got whozits and whatzits galore.
You want thingamabobs? I’ve got twenty! But who cares? No big deal, I want more”. If you are not familiar with these lyrics, you might just have to ask a little girl! Most likely she is familiar with Ariel and “The Little Mermaid.”
Doesn’t it seem that young people are bombarded by “must-have” stuff? I remember a simpler time. I can remember the words as if I uttered them yesterday: “Mom, It’s lovely and it lights up and every one of my friends has one.” Yes, I had to have one too… that turquoise princess phone. Of course, today, every nine-year-old has a cell phone; and landlines, well, kids may not be familiar with that word.
When the Brownie Bullet camera (in the yellow box) was introduced, I had to have one! Photos, film and processing (all terms dropped from our vocabulary) cost me my weekly allowance time and again. But just anticipating the results of my photoshoot was exciting!
At the age of nine, I had already written my first short story. The operative word here is “written” as in pen and paper written. The tale of a young girl and her elephant growing up on Mount Kilimanjaro when a chasm in the earth separates the two was one I couldn’t write fast enough. I begged my parents to buy me a typewriter. That dream became a reality in 1961 with the release of the IBM Selectric. What a fabulous invention, it was. No longer would the typewriter use the typebar that moved up with great force to strike a ribbon. This mother of all inventions used a typeball that actually pivoted. And what’s more, it could be removed and changed which introduced a multitude of fonts! The Selectric changed my life. More coveted than the television, the Selectric was every writer’s dream.
Now granted it was not a computer with spell check, but ultimately a self-correcting feature became life-changing to this young writer. Enrolling in a typing class in middle school added confidence, speed and accuracy to my budding interest in writing.
The history of technology includes many wonders, we never dreamed of: the computer, a PC, the MAC, a tablet, a chrome book, a kindle, and the iPad. However, looking back, nothing can compare to the imagination one was forced to unlock with the IBM Selectric. Yes, Growing up with “technology” means many different things for many of us. Most of them, like us… obsolete.
It’s a new day. Expect great things.
Pumped Up for Pomp & Circumstance
September 12, 2018Parties, presents, money trees, autograph books and yearbooks: It’s that most wonderful time of the year. Graduation is in the air. Kids these days are graduating by the thousands: five-year-olds from pre-school, six-year-olds from kindergarten, six graders from elementary school; and, yes, even eighth-graders from middle school. I remember when graduation was reserved for high school and college seniors.
Eavesdropping in the checkout line at the grocery store, I recently observed an enlightening conversation. I overheard two mothers talking about preparing their little ones for the big day. Big day, I thought: a milestone birthday, perhaps? No, pre-school graduation, including a red carpet, caps, gowns and stoles!
Yes, I attended pre-school. I guess you could say I graduated. But I graduated from no more naps. It provided a perfect transition to kindergarten. With the completion of kindergarten, I suppose I had a graduation. In reality, I was moving toward half days in the classroom. I n the old days we were expected to achieve levels of competency: separating from mommy and daddy for a couple of half days a week, being able to sit and focus for five three hour days; and ultimately move about campus and imitate the high school experience.
A neighbor shared that this year’s kindergarten graduation plan for her kiddo which includes tassels and the processional song, “When you walk in this world.” I am almost positive at the age of five I didn’t know what tassels were and the song of the year was “The Mickey Mouse Club.”
For ten years, there was the promise of promotion. Fulfilling grade requirements, class participation, getting along well with others, and solid attendance would ultimately result in one’s progress and moving on to a higher grade level. Don’t get me wrong, there was recognition along the way; stickers for turning in homework, ribbons for good citizenship, and even parties for class participation in special projects, but I would never have considered so much hoopla for doing what was expected.
Then there were report cards. They were much simpler in the old days. We didn’t sweat A’s or Bs in third grade; but looked forward to VG, G, S, and hoped to avoid P’s or Needs Improvement. You passed and were promoted or you were held back a grade. I even recall a year when the potential to skip a grade was offered to my parents, who declined, because “Father knows best.”
Reserving the honors and medallions, pomp and circumstance for high school or college didn’t seem to trouble me then, and over the years there were reasons enough for celebrations and parties.
Road Trips
September 12, 2018Road trips! I remember when winter breaks and summer vacations meant it was time for… Road trips. The family would “pile” into the blond beauty. She was a 1960 Pontiac Bonneville Safari, and this station wagon was the envy of the neighborhood! These were the days: pre-color tvs or pre- car audio/stereo surround sound and there were no noise-canceling headphones. There were no handheld games, tablets or even cell phones to be preoccupied with.
“I Feel Fine”
September 12, 2018The year was 1964, and I remember it like it was “Yesterday.” There were more than 52 million television sets in homes across America; that’s one in nine. Ours was a cabinet-style Westinghouse with blonde wood and it would be turned on and tuned in…
…the year that the British rock band from Liverpool, The Beatles, was preparing for their first American appearance. Reports indicated that more than 73 million people would view this premiere television event and would be mesmerized by these four musicians in their early twenties. That Sunday night, February 9th, 1964, I would convince my parents to allow us to watch the Ed Sullivan show while eating dinner on tray tables. After a “Hard Day’s Night,” my mother broke down and agreed to serve the Swanson TV dinners with the television set (which was always forbidden on Sunday nights).
The Fab Four were introduced to a record-breaking crowd. The audience was made up primarily of screaming teens like myself. I wept, I jumped up and down and choked on the words to “I Wanna Hold Your Hand.” My dad took his dinner, got up from the plastic-covered sofa and finished his meal in the kitchen. My mother, disgusted by the gyrations of these teen idols and appalled by the behavior of these youngsters promised we would never watch Ed Sullivan again.
And we never did.
Of course, you know the rest of the stories… What followed were movies, solid gold album sales, and dozens of number one records. Two of our Beatles are gone, one murdered the other died of cancer. The two who remain are in the early seventies. And by the time this article goes to print the British pop duo, The Eurythmics (Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart) will have performed in Los Angeles celebrating the 50thAnniversary of the Beatles appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show. If you don’t remember when, or you were late to that party, you may be able to catch “The Night that Changed America” youtube style. And if you are like me, you will always remember when.
Loyalty
September 12, 2018If you are like me, you have a wallet or drawer filled with plastic. No, I don’t mean credit cards. I am referring to those cards for everything from grocery and drug stores, to movie theaters and specialty shops. I use them, but I find them annoying. They take up space on my key chain and often hold up the checkout lines as I fumble around in search of the correct card. Those cards are linked to my phone, my email and identification numbers, all of which I lose from time to time; and all for the love of loyalty points.
Recently my elderly mother and I were reminiscing about the good old days. She asked, “Do you remember green stamps?” You know the ones mother is referring to. The bright green S & H stamps the size of postage that were prominently marked with bold red italic S & H, each assigned a number value? Of course, I did remember…
There was a “telephone” desk in our kitchen where a shoebox that was wrapped in Christmas paper held loose stamps and Quick Saver Books. Like millions of middle-class Americans in the 1950’s and 1960’s, saving Sperry & Hutchinson stamps was more than a pass time, it was a family activity.
Mother would specifically shop at stores wherever earning stamps for purchases was possible; primarily grocery stores like Kroger. But dad would be rewarded with green stamps at the Sinclair gas station as well. The ritual began with bringing home the stamps. My job was to lick the stamps. One by one my tongue turned green (from licking to sticking) filling the pages in the special books. White pages would soon turn green, which was as good as gold for us. After my task was completed, the family would gather around the table and pour over the redemption catalog. We would be rewarded for our shopping loyalty with gifts! From toasters to trips or toys, the possibilities were endless. 1200 stamps and the book was filled. Valued at approximately $3.00 book, each of us had our green stamp wish list. The results were tangible, like my first Eastman Kodak Brownie 1962 Camera!
As the checker at Von’s hands me my receipt, she forces a smile, struggles to pronounce my difficult last name and says in a rote manner, “Mrs. Ashendorf, You have saved $2.67 today.” I can’t help thinking about green stamps and remembering when…
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