Childhood Transformations

Early, early this morning (Chicago’s morning), my mom and I were talking on Yahoo Messenger and she happened to tell me that an old neighbor of ours had a picture taken on the red carpet with Scarlett Johansson at the Oscars. Since I don’t watch those award shows, I did a search and lo and behold, there he was arm-in-arm with her. The site also had a link to Jane Fonda’s blog and his picture was there too.

And you know what? It made me feel old. Looking at the picture of Joe Machota, or Jo Jo as we use to call him, which he hated, doesn’t even look like the Joe I remember. When he was young, he resembled Danny Pintauro from “Who’s the Boss?” but Joe was cuter. I remember squeezing his cheeks because he was so adorable…on his face, people! Who would have thought blond hair Jo Jo would now be a Hollywood agent? It got me thinking about childhood and children in general. When you look at children, they’re just children and the future isn’t visible—grown up jobs or fame for that matter. Now I look at Joe’s picture and think about the years that have passed since childhood.  There are a few people from high school I knew who are successful in Hollywood, but Joe was young and lived across the street from us. I was the same age as his sister, Jolie. In time, they moved and our lives went their separate ways. Now I’ll be watching my niece and nephews and little cousins closely to try and see what grown up job lives inside them.

But I miss childhood. We lived on a dead-end street, so the park was right next door and there was a huge field to play softball, baseball, etc. Back then, we actually played outside, getting dirty for hours. As we got older, my mom had us try out for a play in the summer, where I was usually in the chorus. It kept us occupied and out of trouble. I was horrible at acting and I hated it, but my mom put us in plays in grammar school and then made me do something in high school. She said I wasn’t going to just sit around and do nothing. So I joined the plays in high school until my *ahem* attitude got in the way. In my second year, the theater director pulled me out of class and told me that if they let me in the play, it will be a test on my attitude, and if I’m not, don’t bother trying out again. Oh yeah, good times.

Thinking back on childhood, even though at the time I didn’t know it, I actually had a great time. No worries. No toys to get in the way. No keep up with the Joneses. It was pure fun and adventure—kids running up and down the streets, or riding bikes, or playing in front yards.

What do you miss most about childhood?

P.S. And cereal. I really loved eating cereal...but not in the same room with my brother. He always sounded like a train. Cap’n Crunch’s Crunch Berries was my favorite.

A Year less Ordinary

This past year has been full of what I’d refer to as a ‘year less ordinary’. I finally met the man I’ve waited my whole life for and in that search—I found myself. I’ve changed being with him, and I look forward to our long future. Although we have many challenges ahead, we are committed to facing those challenges together.

Looking back on childhood and this past year, it has opened my eyes to my relationship with my siblings and my mother—who they are, and who I’ve become. I’ve never had a better relationship with my mother until now—she’s become a dear friend. We basically talk every day, and I have an appreciation for all she has sacrificed and all she still does for me. As for my siblings, at one time we stuck together, but as adults we’re in our own worlds, doing our own things. It saddens me that my siblings and I don’t communicate much, don’t appreciate each other, and that we left our ‘pretend’ days so many years ago. But we all have one life, and we must do what is right for ‘us’. Over the holiday season, we will see each other, and after that will follow almost another year of separation, if not more. Maybe in time we’ll find each other again—until then—I will continue to embrace my wonderful life.

I will be returning to the States this week, and will be without a computer for several weeks. It’s a time for me to spend with family and friends. I’ve been away for 9 weeks, but my year less ordinary started much sooner. The man I’m with was unable to find a job as a teacher in the United States, so after his summer break, he returned to Germany since he still had a job there as a teacher. Instead of us carrying on our relationship another year through computers, I decided to quit my job to be with him. In October, we flew back to Germany together, and since then, I had the pleasure of meeting his family and exploring parts of Europe. When 2009 rolled into 2010, I never imagined living a year less ordinary.

As this year comes to a close, I’m looking forward to another unexpected year. After the New Year, we will return to Germany where I’ll continue with my writing, he'll return to teaching and we'll continue to explore Europe. Since I won’t be around for several weeks, I want to wish you all a safe and wonderful Holiday Season. I hope Santa brings you everything you want, and that the New Year brings you good fortune. 

If you have time, please leave a comment regarding some things that happened to you through the course of the year.

Merry Christmas, my friends, and Happy New Year!

You Still What?

Ever since childhood, I still…

A Magnificent Stroke of Talent!

Norman Rockwell was an artist of extraordinary measure who captured the essence of American life. His illustrations for The Saturday Evening Post, amongst other magazines gave a depiction of true American spirit, and planted smiles on faces as they viewed paintings of everyday life. Through things people could relate to, experienced, war, and politics, Mr. Rockwell drew every detail and applied strokes of color for all of us to appreciate.

Granted, he retired from the Saturday Evening Post before I was born, but my childhood still experienced his emotional paintings. He not only painted for himself, but the people too. The American people were his inspiration and audience.

One of my bucket list items is to visit the Norman Rockwell Museum, and to buy one of his paintings when I buy a house. My heart melts when I see one of his paintings feeling a sense of home and family values. Maybe it's the safety and contentment I love about them.

Some of my favorites:

“Girl at the Mirror,” because it truly depicts how women view and critique themselves. How we find the flaws that tend to make us overlook the beauty.

“High Dive,” because it’s cute and illustrates the fear I have for sharing my writing. “Alone for Christmas” for personal reasons.

“Santa,” because Christmas is my favorite holiday.

“Sunset,’ because I remember this one from childhood.

“Homecoming G.I.,” because it depicts so much from a mother being overjoyed, to a woman who waited for this day, and how life went on yet waited for the soldier.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Rockwell! Thank you for sharing your talent with the world and that the emotional connection still breathes within us.

What are your feelings towards Norman Rockwell’s paintings and do you have a favorite? Which one, and why?

A Childhood Ghost Story

The ghouls and goblins will be out today and tomorrow, so I thought I’d share a childhood ghost story with all of you. When I was real young, my cousin’s would turn off all the lights, light a few candles and we’d sit in a circle waiting to hear their story. *lowers voice* Now turn the lights out and listen to this story about Johnny, AND whatever you do, don’t turn around.

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On a cool fall day, Johnny’s mom asked him to go to the store to pick up some liver for dinner that night. He opened his hand and watched as she put dollars and coins in it then told him to put them in his pocket. Since he wasn’t responsible with money, Johnny’s mother worried whether or not he’d come home with what she asked, but he needed to learn. His eyes lit up like a Jack O’ Lanterns at night. Setting out towards town, Johnny thought about all the things he could buy with the money, candy, toys, ice cream, but knew he couldn’t.

When he came upon a candy store, he found Becky sitting outside staring into the store through the window licking her lips. Johnny had always been fond of Becky, so he took her hand and they entered the store. Without even thinking about it, he let Becky pick out anything she wanted, and so she did. Licorice. Chocolate. Butterfingers, and more. Johnny found a few things of his choosing and with that paid for his and Becky’s sweets then walked out to sit in front of the store. They devoured their candy while talking about school.

An hour passed, and Becky had to get home, so they said their good-byes and Johnny started towards the grocery store. He dug into his pocket to find it empty. All the money was gone. It paid for his and Becky’s delicious treats. He started to head home sweating with the knowledge he’ll be grounded for spending the money on sweets. As he was passing the cemetery, he noticed a grave was not filled in, so he entered the cemetery and approached the site. Down in the hole he saw a shiny casket. Johnny climbed down, opened it up and with his pocket knife, cut into the dead person to get the liver.

It was dark by the time Johnny made it home, but his mother was so happy he got the liver that she couldn’t be mad at him. The family enjoyed the dinner and soon after retired to bed.

At midnight, Johnny woke to a voice and opened his eyes to see if anyone was in his room. It was dark and empty, but again he heard a whisper, “Johnny.” He sat up pulling the covers up to his chest.

The whisper continued, Johnny, I want my liver back.

Tears began to slide down his face, and he found out soon enough that he had become mute.

Johnny, I want my liver back.

He shook his head hoping to release the voice in his head.

Johnny, I’m on the first step.

He found it hard to breathe. Was he imagining these voice?

Johnny, I’m on the second step.

He wet the bed.

Johnny, I’m on the third step.

Johnny covered his ears mouthing the words, “Go away.”

Johnny, I’m on the fourth step.

With ears still covered, mouthing “go away,” he shook his head and closed his eyes.

Johnny, I’m on the fifth step.

A whimper finally escaped his mouth.

Johnny, I’m in the hall.

He stared at is bedroom door while tears poured down his face.

Johnny, I’m by your door.

He threw the covers over his head hugging his body.

Johnny, I’m in your bedroom.

He grabbed the covers tight.

Johnny, I’m by your bed.

AND I GOTCHA!

Have a Safe and Happy Halloween!!!!