Growing Up with the Movies

Lady and the Tramp (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

        Some of my earliest memories relate to movies.  When I was a child my parents, my mother especially, were fairly avid movie-goers.  In the faintness of my memory I seem to recall going to the movies nearly once a week.  It was probably not that often considering the tight budget to which our family likely adhered, but still it was probably more often than most of the other kids that I knew.

        Many Saturday mornings my mother would take us to movies that were older films that circulated in the theaters for what were likely budget showings.  We'd see monster movies, comedies, westerns, and other B films that were considered family fare and in some cases maybe not.  My favorites were the comedies of Abbot and Costello and anything scary or science fiction related.

         We always had a television when I was growing up and much of my movie viewing was right in our own living room.  There were no large screen televisions in those days so we were accustomed to watching programming on a 15 to 19 inch screen.  Since I didn't know anything else this was my norm and I never considered that television screens would ever be larger.  Another norm for us was black and white.  I had seen color televisions like the one a wealthy uncle and his family had, but my family never had one until after I was in high school.  And that color television had what I'm guessing was a 25 inch screen.

          Back then a big screen was what they had in the movie theaters.  It was always a special event when my father and mother both took my sister and I to the movies.   Usually as a family we'd go to see whatever major release was showing--typically it would be a Bible epic like The Ten Commandments though sometimes it might be a Disney film like Bambi or Lady and the Tramp.  If there was a circus film or something that might have a juggler in it then that was a guaranteed theater excursion.  It was all fine with me as any movie was something that I wanted to experience.

          After we moved to San Diego when I was eight years old, I probably watched an average of nearly a film a day on television.   That's not to say I didn't spend time outdoors or playing with whatever it was I played with back then.  Time was in abundance so I always seemed to have plenty of time for both play and watching television.

           In those days on the San Diego television station there was a movie every week day afternoon.  I'd often watch those after coming home from school.  Then there was Saturday Night at the Movies on NBC when they would show fairly recent top tier films.  I was in front of our television set for nearly every one of those.  Some of  my favorite viewing was on Friday and Saturday nights when starting at 11:30 PM one of the stations would show films all night.  Apparently my parents were fine with me doing so because many a weekend I'd be up late, sometimes all night, watching two or three movies in a row.

           When I was entering middle school--or junior high as we called it back then--we moved to Northern Indiana.   In nearby Crown Point there was an old theater on the town square.  Nearly every Friday night you could find me there with my sister and a friend or two.  There were the James Bond films, surf movies, and the rock and roll films such as the Beatles' Hard Day's Night and Having a Wild Weekend with the Dave Clark Five.  The candy was cheap and movies were a quarter.  My mother would drop us off and pick us up when it was all over.  Those were great times.

           My childhood of watching movies was not just memorable to me, but it paved the way for a avid enjoyment of films in later years up until now.  I don't watch films like I used to, but I easily could if that were how I wanted to devote my time.   And I'd like to spend a lot of time watching movies, but there are so many other things that I want and need to do.

        The other day my wife said that when she retired we'd watch movies all day.   I'm not sure I'm ready for that much movie watching, but it sounds tempting.

          Did you watch a lot of movies when you were a child?   Did your parents take you to see movies?    What are some films that you saw as a child that had a big influence on you?

The Ultimate Roller Coaster

English: The 1/500 scale model for the Euthanasia Coaster, a hypothetical roller coaster that kills its passengers, made by Julijonas Urbonas, on display at the Trinity College in Dublin during the HUMAN+ exhibition. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Low-resolution photograph of the scale-model of the Euthanasia Coaster, a concept by Julijonas Urbonas (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

          Julijonas Urbonas has designed a euthanasia coaster which is a roller coaster that is designed to kill its riders. Perhaps going out with a thrill might be better than being hung, electrocuted, or shot, but this is certainly a crazy concept for someone to sit around and concoct. Who in the world would come up with such a crazy idea as this? Well, I suppose I might.

        When I was young I feared riding roller coasters. At about age six I would watch my younger sister, who was four or five, ride amusement park coasters with my mother while I cowardly stayed behind with my father who was no fan of thrill rides. I felt equal parts of embarrassment and envy as I looked on as she seemed to have no problem with the big scary looking rides. Maybe she was too young to be afraid. Keep in mind this was in a time when there were more lax attitudes toward safety issues. No height or age restrictions on roller coasters and no seat belts in cars.

        By the time I was nine or so I felt brave enough to venture onto the Giant Dipper Coaster at Belmont Park in San Diego. After that I was hooked on roller coasters. I would face each ride with a sense of trepidation, but would leave with the exhilaration of the accomplishment after the ride was over. Riding roller coasters and thrill rides became something I would look forward to when summer came each year.

         After my family moved to East Tennessee when I was starting high school, roller coasters were essentially a memory for me. There were no amusement parks nearby with a big roller coaster. But my memories often took me back to the fun I had riding that coaster in San Diego--the only coaster I had ridden so far in my life at that time.

         When I was in college and often spending leisurely mind-meandering hours with friends, our conversations would at times go off into crazy thinking and my imagination could easily wander into the realms of the absurd. A roller coaster pipedream was one of the wilder thoughts my mind would revisit many times.

         My friends and I would spend a great deal of our free time driving and hiking through the nearby Great Smoky Mountains. I developed a real love of those mountains and the spectacular scenery. Somehow at sometime I began to envision a roller coaster that would be built through the Smokies--a ride that would combine thrills with beautiful scenery and go for forty miles or more and last for a couple of hours. This would be an ultimate roller coaster unlike anything humankind had ever known. A wild and crazy yo-yo of a trip up and down mountains through a seeming endless expanse of forest.

        Of course I was only focused on the thrill involved and not taking into consideration ecological issues. I was seeing no incongruity of a roller coaster traversing one of the more visited and more beautiful of the national parks of the United States. It was one of those deranged notions of youth.   Essentially unproductive conceptually, but promising a great deal of jolting speedy excitement.

        Or would a roller coaster like that kill you? Thinking back on this fantastic notion I realize that a roller coaster ride lasting for an hour or more could be very taxing to the body and the mind. There would be no getting off a ride like that once it got started. If the riders didn't die from that sort of a ride they probably would be in great pain.

       On the other hand there have been people who have participated in marathon coaster experiences in order to win a valuable prize. If those people survive that experience, why couldn't people also survive a multi-mile coaster through the mountains of a national park?

        Oh, the crazy dreams we have sometimes. Some of you might say, "Dreams you have!" pointing at me. Okay, I concede I get some crazy ideas at times. But a euthanasia coaster? I never thought of that.

         Not intentionally at least.

         Do you like roller coasters and other thrill rides? What is your favorite coaster or thrill ride? Had you heard about the "euthanasia coaster"? If you were going to be executed would you rather ride the death coaster or would you prefer another method? What do you think about a roller coaster ride through a national park or some other extended coaster experience?


related articles

• The Roller Coaster Designed to Kill Its Passengers
• This Roller Coaster Is Designed To Kill A Human Being - "The Euthanasia Coaster" (VIDEO)
• On Rituals
• One Last Thrill
• Finally.. A Roller Coaster For People Who Hate Roller Coasters.

The Garage: Where Stuff Goes to Disappear

Garage Remodel, Scotts Valley, CA (Photo credit: Judi Oyama)

Only in America......do we  leave cars worth thousands of dollars in the driveway and put our useless junk  in the garage. 

...from an email chain message--source Unknown

        So far we've visited just about every storage place that a house can have, but I've neglected the one that has probably become the most important for most home owning Americans--the garage.  This space that was intended for our vehicles often becomes that catchall for everything that doesn't fit it the house.  If your accumulations are like mine I'm sure your garage is filling up. And I know many folks have far fuller garages than mine.

         The quote the opens this page is intended for humor, but it's kind of funny because of the truth in the words.  Neighborhoods across the United States are dealing with the perplexing problem of having enough parking space for multi-car families who no longer can fit their cars in the garage or driveways that were intended for that purpose.  In neighborhoods like mine street parking is highly coveted and sometimes even fought over.  I know this to be the case throughout the Los Angeles area and I would not be surprised to learn that all countries of the world where people are getting more stuff to fill their homes have this same problem.

         When I was growing up I recall three houses where we lived that had actual garages.  One only had just a driveway and the house where my mother still lives has a sizeable carport.  I don't remember my parents ever using our garages for parking cars.   I guess garage storaging goes back at least 60 years then.  Maybe even from the time garages started appearing as a part of the family home.

Garage Memories

       The garage in our house in Cleveland doesn't play into my memories for the most part.  There was one magical Christmas experience that stands out.  My sister and I had been blessed with another abundant blessing of many presents such as my parents were always prone to shower us with each Christmas morning. On one particular Christmas day when I was probably about six years old, in the lull of the aftermath of being dazzled by all of my new toys, for some reason I looked in the garage to a sight that amazed me.  Santa Claus had left all of the boxes that the toys had originally been packed in and I found them in the garage.  At that moment the toys were forgotten and the cache of boxes became the focus of my attention.  What a find that was!  Any kid loves boxes to play in.

       The garage in our San Diego house is where the washer and dryer were hooked up.  Keeping a car in there seemed somewhat impractical.  There were many things stored around the walls of that garage with the center a clear expanse that I sometimes used as a play area.  One corner of this makeshift play/utility/storage room was piled with boxes, suitcases, and assorted loose items.   I would sometimes build tunnels and rooms using the piled items as building materials.  For a while my sister and I constructed a makeshift clubhouse in that corner.  Thankfully we were never crushed or smothered by all of that stuff collapsing upon us.   I guess I was a pretty good builder.

       In the house where my wife and I currently dwell, we have a garage that threatens storage disaster.  I actually keep my van parked in there but it is surrounded by a tower of stored goods. There are boxes that haven't been opened since we moved there sixteen years ago.  Sure I know the standard rule of discarding items you haven't accessed in x number of years, but I assure you that some of it is worth keeping.  I'm sure I'll use it one day.  At least that's what I keep telling myself.

         Then there are the Christmas decorations.  We're never home during the 2 or 3 weeks around the holidays, but my wife still likes to decorate at Thanksgiving and we'll usually keep the decorations up until February.  I could do without the decorating, but I suppose there could come that day when we are home for the holidays.

         In the months after I lost my job in early 2009 I did get rid of a lot of the garage collection by selling it off on Craig's List.  That went pretty well and kept me in cash for a while.  Now my Craig's List ads are largely ignored as I get to the less desirable items.  Maybe a curbside pick-up will be in order soon since many of the items would probably be unwanted by Goodwill.  But I've got the time.  And I've still got the space.

      Garages make a great place for storage.  You can't see what you've got in there unless you go in there.  It's that old out of sight, out of mind thing.  I think about it, but then again I don't fret over it.  I'll get rid of the stuff eventually.

         Do you have a garage in your home?   Can you park a car in there?   What do you store in your garage?

Related articles

• Reclaim Your Garage: 4 Cleaning, Safety and Security Tips That Work
• Organize Your Garage in a Few Simple Steps
• Clear the Garage Clutter
• Use of Custom Cabinets in a Garage

Acceptance

English: Federal Signal Thunderbolt 1003 (dual tone) siren head mounted on pole in Louisville, KY (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

        In some ways I was a pretty shy kid.  It was not always easy for me to get close to other kids and make friends, but I wasn't the only one like that.  Many of us would go to school and quietly make it through the day well behaved and striving for the good grades to please our parents.

        When I was in the fifth grade, I was living in San Diego.  This would have been in 1961, a tense time in the United States as we were in the cold war stand off with the communists.  We kids didn't worry too much about the threat of war.  The monthly air raid siren tests at noon, the duck and cover drills at school, and the war talk on television were just another part of life and didn't stop us from being kids.

        That school year Eddy's family moved onto the street where my family lived.  They moved in about seven houses down from ours.  Eddy was the only boy in this family and he had three sisters.  His older sister was a normal enough looking girl and didn't look anything like her siblings.  Eddy and his two younger sisters were small and almost frail and sickly looking.  All the kids were very intelligent and, like me, quiet and reserved.

         Perhaps that's why Eddy and I hit it off so well.  I passed by his house on the way to school and it was not long that we became walking buddies to school and back home at the end of the day.  But there was one problem--not for me, but for some of the other kids in our class.  Eddy did not pledge allegiance to the flag for religious reasons.   He became tagged as a communist by some of the other kids.

         For a while some of the more bully-like boys, mild by today's standards, but bullies nevertheless, began trailing behind us taunting Eddy about being a communist.  I was a little afraid, but as long as I was by Eddy's side they only teased from a distance.   Eddy had become one of my best friends and I accepted him for what I saw in him and the way he treated me.  It was a mutual acceptance and our friendship grew stronger.

        Eventually the bullies must have tired of harassing me and Eddy and it all stopped.   Visiting Eddy at his house I learned about his interest in photography and film developing, radio building, and other scientific pursuits.  To me he was like a genius and his knowledge fascinated me.

         We remained friends until seventh grade, at which time my family moved to the Chicago area.  In his last letter to me he informed me that his family moved to Costa Mesa, California.   His last letter was our last correspondence.  I never wrote back.  I was bad about things like that.

           So, Edward Ross--I'm guessing that is what you go by now--I'm sorry that I didn't keep in touch.  You were a good friend to me and I think of you often.

         "Love is blind" goes the old saying.   When we can look past some of the things that might seem different, weird, or not in the norms of society, we can learn to accept others and begin to love them as friends.   Those friendships are sometimes difficult to find and it's a shame when we let them slip away.

          Love must involve acceptance.

Related articles

• Help Make Moving Easier for Your Kids
• Bullying and Young Children: How to Spot the Signs and What to Do
• Let's Talk About Bullies
• Happiness & Acceptance

More Adventures in Stamp Collecting

Stamps (Photo credit: London Permaculture)

             In my previous post I provided an overview of what stamp collecting was about and the plus side of being a stamp collector.  That post was primarily an objective look at the hobby and a general look at stamp collecting as a part of my life.   This post will provide a closer look at my adventures as a stamp collector.

          One doesn't usually think of stamp collecting as an adventure, but when you're a kid anything and everything can be an adventure.  This is especially true when you receive a brand new boxed something or other labeled as a "kit" or "set".  This mystery package is like a treasure chest waiting to be opened.   I was thrilled when I received my first stamp collecting kit in 1960 when I was in the third grade.

          My Discoverer Stamp Album kit provided everything I needed to get started as a stamp collector.  The adventure began on the floor of my bedroom in the Clairemont Mesa neighborhood where my family lived in San Diego, California.  I spent hours poring over that first packet of stamps and mounting them in my new album.  I carefully studied the accompanying guide book to learn about the proper way to handle stamps and how to identify where they were from.  I learned professional philatelic terms like perforations, watermarks, and plate blocks.   Within several days I felt like I was becoming a professional stamp collector.

         As with any collecting hobby, my adventure had now become a quest.  I made regular visits to the  Rasco Five and Dime store at the nearby Quad shopping center.  This was the first store where I found a display of stamp collecting supplies.  Whenever I was in Rasco's I would look through the packets of stamps to see which ones I would buy when I had enough money,   If I had the money I would buy as many packets as I could afford.  Little by little I began building a sizable collection.

          When the Mission Valley Shopping Center opened in 1961, an amazing new world of stamp collecting was opened to me.   The May Company department store had a complete philatelic department with stamps displayed in glass counters like jewelry.  There were actual clerks who had expert knowledge in the field of stamp collecting.  By this time I was a much more experienced collector, yet I was still a kid in the world of the stamp pros.

           I always looked forward to my mother's trips to the Mission Valley Center (the term mall hadn't fallen into general use at that time).  She would leave me at the philatelic department where I would stay until she was done with her shopping.  Perusing the stamps on display I would make up my wish lists of the stamp sets I would hope to get for Christmas or buy with money I would be getting.  The stamp prices here were higher end than those inexpensive packets at Rasco's, but this was real stamp collecting--complete sets, mint (unused) stamps, and harder to find stamps.  My collection was becoming bigger and I had graduated to a much nicer hard cover stamp album.  The larger selection offered by the May Company was now what I needed.

          Wherever I went I was always on the lookout for places that sold stamps.  I still recall the surprise of finding a box of assorted stamps at a penny a piece at a tacky souvenir store in Tijuana, Mexico.  I bought several on that visit and since we went to the border town with some frequency I would usually return to see what new gems they had in the box.

           Later, after we had moved to Northern Indiana in 1963, on one of our juggling performance trips playing county fairs, we stopped in the small town of Rush City, Minnesota.  The only store open downtown--there really wasn't much of a town--was an old general store that had probably been there since the early part of the century.

           Inside it was musty smelling and dimly lit.  The place looked frozen in the past like no one had been there in decades.  I don't know if the place was intended to be an antique store, but much of the  stock on the shelves could probably be classified as antique.  A congenial old man who was probably the owner was the only one there.  While my parents looked about, I was drawn to some shelves along one wall and as though by instinct I found a cigar box filled with old stamps.  They were four cents each--more expensive than the Tijuana store offered--but they were older stamps that made them more valuable.

             I bought about twenty of the stamps that appealed to me the most.   I don't know if I got a good deal or not, but I'm pretty sure they were worth more than I paid for them.  They went back into my collection which was now fairly substantial--several thousand stamps mounted in six albums with many others tucked away in glassine envelopes stored in file boxes.

              I had a very neatly organized collection.  And this is how it remains.   I stopped actively collecting in high school, but my interest has continued.  One day the adventure may resume.  But it was a fun adventure while it lasted.

Related articles

• These Are the Good Old Days (Part the First) (phrugalfilatelist.wordpress.com)
• My Life as a Stamp Collector (wrotebyrote.blogspot.com)
• CollectStampsandPostcards.com Launches Online Community for Stamp and Postcard Enthusiasts (prweb.com)
• Put a stamp on it (thehindu.com)
• I guess I still collect stamps. And Mystic Stamp company sucks. (datanode.net)

Richmond, Virginia

Image via Wikipedia

        When I was in middle school in Merrillville, Indiana I was called out of class one day to be introduced to a young man my age who had just moved next door to my family.  Having recently moved from San Diego, California, I was new to the school as well and welcomed the chance to have a new friend in this school where I had not made any friends so far.

         Gordon and his family had moved from Norfolk, Virginia.  It was my first direct exposure to a strong Southern accent and I found it somewhat amusing to hear as did some of the other boys in the neighborhood.  A couple of the boys used to taunt Gordon by imitating the call they would sometimes hear coming from his mother as she called out, "Go-din!"

         My new friend's mother was a sweet lady with the demeanor of a Southern aristocrat. His step father was a soft-spoken man who seemed to be at work a lot.  Gordon was the sole offspring still living at home.  He was full of turmoil and could display a mean streak sometimes, but he had become my friend and I tolerated a lot from him.

          One thing that used to irritate me though was how he was always bragging about Virginia and especially Norfolk.  I don't think I'd ever been to Virginia at that time and perhaps I was a bit jealous since I had thought of myself as well-traveled and here was a place I'd never been.  Besides, Gordon's arrogant attitude about Virginia really bugged me.  I developed a resentment about Virginia.

           By the time I was in my mid-20s, after my family had been living in Tennessee for several years, I had traveled throughout Virginia and had softened a bit about the state, but I still retained this ridiculous distaste for the state.  That is until I met Cathy.

            The young lady who would become my first wife was from Richmond, Virginia and we would frequently go there to stay with her family.  I started making friends there and felt very comfortable with the city when we moved there after Cathy became pregnant.

             Richmond actually is a quite attractive city along the James River and conveniently located along the I-95 corridor which extends from New England to Florida.   The city has broad boulevards with stately memorials honoring heroes of the Confederacy.  History is everywhere.  I began to enjoy living in Richmond.

             After our son was born, Cathy and I began traveling with the World of Fantasy Players in 1978.  Whenever we could we'd stay in Richmond.  Virginia had become a part of me and this was the home of my wife and newly born son.   And now, along with East Tennessee,  Richmond was now a place that I too thought of as home.


Related articles

• Richmond, Virginia Places (filipinofestival.wordpress.com)

What If You Gave a Party and Nobody Came?

Image via Wikipedia

         Birthday parties were the norm for me when I was a kid.  Then, after I started junior high school things changed.

          My mother would whip together those classic parties with games like Pin the Tail on the Donkey and Drop the Clothespin in the Bottle.  We'd have cake and ice cream and party horns and foil hats.  The frenzy of fun and noisy children would end up with the opening of presents.  The parties were the tradition and I came to expect them.

          Then from thirteen years and on, those childhood parties were done and the concept of party took on a different meaning.  For me they also essentially stopped.

         At that time my family had moved from San Diego, California to Northern Indiana--a real extreme in many ways.  The days of walking to the neighborhood elementary school and being in one class with the same teacher and students all day made for bonding and having more friends.  Junior high meant riding a bus to a big school where students changed classes with different teachers and I attended alongside students who came from other neighborhoods--places that I didn't even know where they were.

         Not being particularly outgoing, I did not make many friends.  Most of my friends were the kids that lived in my neighborhood and even at that I wasn't very close to many of them.  Junior high school was in many ways a time of alienation for me.  It was also a time when I began reading, writing, and watching more television and movies.

         Ever the caring parent, my mother always threw together something special for my birthdays, but no longer did I have the festive affairs that I had when I was younger.  Then one year as my birthday approached I let it be known that I would like to have a surprise party for my special day.   I wanted a party like I'd seen in the movies, where I would enter a darkened room and then suddenly the lights would turn on and everyone would jump out of hiding and yell, "Surprise!".   That is what I wanted more than anything.

        So, absurdity of absurdities, I provided my sister a list of the kids that I considered my friends at school. I pretended like I didn't know what was going on and she pretended like she was secretly delivering invitations to all the kids I wanted to see come to my party.  I envisioned a gala affair where I would have many friends in attendance and I would be the center of attention--an important guy.

        It was not to be so.  I felt a bit foolish when not a single one of those friends showed up on the big night. There were a few of my close friends from my neighborhood, but we were a meager group.  If it had not been for my sister inviting some of her friends it would have been a truly sad affair.

        As it turned out we were able to turn the lights low and play the popular songs of the era on the stereo.  At least we were able to awkwardly dance with girls about our age and have a small young teen party.  It was not the event that I had imagined, but it was my birthday party--the last one that I would have until I became an adult.

       What's the point of my telling you this story now?  Well, we're giving a party of sorts in April and I wanted to invite all of the readers of this blog to join us.  In case you haven't heard the buzz, I'm talking about The Blogging from A to Z April Challenge.

         We're not concerned about no one showing up for this--currently we have over 700 signed up for this Challenge.  But we'd like for you to join us if you haven't signed up already.  It's great fun and such an excellent opportunity to discover new blogs, gain more followers, and become a better blogger.  This will be the third year and nearly everyone who has participated in the past has raved about this event and most are returning for another year.  How about you?

          Our current sign-up goal is to reach 1000 by Thursday March 1st.   Last year we had nearly 1300 participants and this year we'd like to increase that number.  This is an amazing blog event that is sure to create a buzz for the rest of the year as bloggers look forward to the 2013 Challenge.  Yes, we keep looking forward.  If you are going to participate in any blog events, this one is a must.

          Check out the links for the A to Z story, the sign-up list, and even a Twitter news feed.

           There's also a Blogging from A to Z Video Contest that you can enter.  Check out this entry from Kathleen at Living 2012:



         Don't miss this party!  You'll have plenty of dancing partners and fun galore.  Are you signed up yet?    If not, is there anything that is keeping you from doing this?

Related articles

• The surprise party that wasn't (ramblinglitchi.wordpress.com)
• Partying it up "60s" style... (greenandfrugalhousewife.com)
• Elementary School (authorameai.wordpress.com)
• Birthday!~ (wtfkr.wordpress.com)
• Kid's Birthdays: Fun & Games or Social Trauma? (susanwritesprecise.com)
• DIY Birthday Party (lifesacraftproject.wordpress.com)