When I was a kid

As a kid:

We had 7 channels on our TV.

The TV stations shut off at night and there was a test pattern on the TV screen.

The TV stations started the day by playing The National Anthem.

My brother and I, so desperate to watch TV,  we would watch Sunrise Semester and Modern Farmer at 5AM or 6AM. 

My Dad would send us to the corner store occasionally to test tubes from the TV in hopes of avoiding the dreaded visit from the TV Repairman.

And horror of horrors, we only had one TV in our apartment.

We didn’t have a color TV until I was a Sophomore in high school.

Picture that now.

In the beginning, my parents did not have a TV or a telephone.  When I became very sick when I was two months old, my Dad had to go to a neighbors apartment to ask if he could use their phone to call the Dr..

Picture that now.

Doctors still made house calls.  Dr, Greenstein showed up, examined me on the kitchen table and then went to the apartment next door to call the hospital and tell them he was bringing me in.

My Mom said she heard him say,  “ I am bringing in a sick child….no beds open?  Well, get the damn kids with a broken arm out of their bed because I will be there in a few minutes.”  

The visit probably cost $5.  Then the Doctor drove my Dad and me to the hospital.

Picture that now.

When I was a kid, a visit to the Bronx Zoo on their free admission days was such fun and cheap.

The first movie I even saw was “Tom Thumb”.  I am not sure what it cost but in those days you could stay and watch a movie a second time without paying or even a third time.

Picture that now.

There were trucks that drove around neighborhoods with rides on them.  They cost, maybe 5 or 10 cents for a few minutes of entertainment.

Sometimes, I didn’t have the 5 or 10 cents so I would stand and watch the kids longingly.

Picture that now.

During the week, instead of going to a supermarket, there was always the neighborhood deli to get something we might need.

Mom would toss out a clothespin out our apartment window with a piece of paper and money all clipped together.

The note would say something like, 1 box of Ronzoni #17 (which indicted what kind of pasta it was) or one piece of American Cheese about 1/2 pound (which meant macaroni and cheese was for dinner. I would love when Mom would grate up the cheese and we kids could have a few pieces).

When we would go to the deli, we would stop at the corner and wait for an adult to come by and ask them to take us across the street.

Picture that now.

We didn’t have a chance to get bored, Mom would say “go call for someone”.  Which meant “go find a friend and play until I call you in for dinner”.

When I was a kid, there were no IPADS, Xboxes, play stations. 

When I was a kid, there weren’t a zillion cable stations to watch hours on end.

When I was a kid, you called adults Mr. and Mrs. or if they were close family friend Aunt and Uncle.

When I was s kid, you showed respect to adults, our teachers and police officers.

When I was a kid, life seemed easier, less complicated and never dull.

When I was a kid, we appreciated everything we were given. Although I will now freely admit I hated the Oxford shoes I had to wear to school.  As Mom said, they were a sensible, sturdy shoe that never wore out.

When I was a kid, my school book covers were made from brown paper bags not those fancy types that had a plastic coat over them with cool pictures.

When I was a kid, we didn’t always have the coolest lunchbox (although one year I did get one that had was labeled “stewardess” with a picture of a plane and a lovely young lady in her uniform). Most times it was a plain brown bag on which Mom had written “Donna Raboni Class 3-G” just in case my lunch bag and I got separated. I would look at the “rich” kids in the hot lunch line and think someday….

I look back on those years of my youth and think I was so lucky.

When I was a kid, I was aware we were not rich and money was tight but we were no different than most families I knew.

When I was a kid, life was uncomplicated.

When I was a kid, I felt secure and loved.

I feel lucky to have grown up the way I did, when I was a kid.

See you next week.

PS I am sure some of you have figured out how much fun I am having with Bitmoji these last few weeks LOL.  I even changed my outfit to something I would normally wear, a v neck t shirt and crocs. I should put myself in shorts but no reason to scare my audience LOL

A Comfy Old Pair Of Slippers

Comfy clothes, comfort foods, familiarity and feeling at home.

Picture at the beginning of the day, move your legs over the side of the bed.  Your feet slide into your favorite, old, kind of beaten up pair of slippers.

They wrap your feet in warmth and softness. 

The slippers make you smile.

A well worn (or just plain old) sweater. You wrap it around yourself like a hug.

A warm bowl of oatmeal, a fresh homemade soup or let’s admit it macaroni and cheese, they all fit into the comfort food category. Although, I have to admit I use some butter and salt on top of my oatmeal, yum.

They make your taste buds sing.

This is how I felt this week returning to my old job.

It’s not that it was a stress free week.

I had to clear some cobwebs out of my brain.

But slowly, it started to click.

I felt my first team huddle went well.

I felt a renewed confidence in my decisions to questions I was asked.

I felt like I had come home.

I was lucky enough to be able to come back to TD.

And then through a fortunate turn of events end up back in my Underwriting Manager role.

The journey of the last year taught me some lessons.  All that glitters isn’t gold. 

The four months I was not working were challenging. 

I ended up on a quest that took me in a big circle back to where I started.

Who knew? God did. He had a plan.

I read this week, do not pray just for a new job. Pray about the people you will work with, pray about your work environment and pray that your will be happy and excited about what you do each day.

Pray to feel passionate about the job.

Keep in the back of your head that the job is a job, it is not your life.

Life takes priority.  This is why I say life/work balance not work/life balance.

As I sit here and think about my first week back, I feel like I have had the comfort food, worn the scruffy slippers and felt the comfort of my sweater hug.

The travels of the last year have provided me with a greater sense of what is good and what I value. If I hadn’t made the decision to leave last year, there is no way I could appreciate what I have now.

I have returned and there is no place like home.

See you next week.

 

The magic of a simple cardboard box

As I think back on my childhood, I think about the imagination that were part of each day.

We did not have a toy box.  We had two large cardboard boxes that once held toilet paper delivered to a neighborhood supermarket.

As kids, we did not look at these boxes with embarrassment or shame. They were magical.  They held adventures.

The times we worked our way to the bottom of these huge boxes we found toys we hadn’t played with in a while almost seemed like new toys.

A piece of rope became a fishing line.  One of us would sit on the top bunk and the other would dig into the big boxes and tie something onto the end of a rope and yank the rope.  The person on the top bunk would see what they had “reeled” in.

An end table in the living room became “an office”.

A china tea set became part of an important dinner with a lot of “water” tea, a slice of bread became the the finest pastry.

A small chalkboard became a classroom.

When a smaller cardboard box was brought home it took on a new life.

We would draw wheels on the side and it became a car.  We would even draw a steering wheel on one of the flaps.  Seated in the box and off we would go.  We could drive anywhere.  The freedom of traveling in the neighborhood or to places far away.  Sometimes the cardboard box became a plane and flew us to foreign countries.

As we sat with Mom on the roof of our apartment building at “tar beach”, we would listen to the music from a transistor radio.  In our minds, we were at the beach enjoying the sun.  Mom watching us and enjoying the sun and drinking a cold Pepsi from a bottle.

As we grew up, a record player was added to the mix.  We could be the stars of Broadway shows from albums we collected or be Gladys Knight on the :Midnight Train to Georgia.  My addiction to musicals started in the 4th grade when we went to the Rivoli Theatre in “the city” to see “The Sound of Music”.  I so wanted to be “Sixteen Going On Seventeen.”.  I sang the songs over and over again.

The magic and imagination has never really gone away.  For my 16th birthday, my parents gave me tickets to my first Broadway Show.  I went to see “Fiddler On The Roof’.  It was mesmerizing.  I wanted to be on that stage.  Unfortunately, my singing skills were lacking except in the shower or into my hairbrush microphone.

Back to the magic.

When I learned to ride a bike, I was suddenly part of the “Tour de France” on the Bronx streets.

When we put baseball cards on the spokes of our bikes with clothespins holding them in place, we were riding motorcycles through the neighborhood.

When Jenn was young, she had not mastered the skill of jumping into a turning jump rope. And who wants to be the “steady ender”all the time (although I did not mind turning the rope for Double Dutch).  We resolved the issue with a trip to a local hardware store. We purchased a couple of yards of clothesline.  I tied one end to a tree and turned the other.  We worked at it and before she knew it, Jenn got the hang of it.  In fact, my Mom stopped by and showed Jenn her jumping skills.  It got even funnier when Uncle George stopped by in his police car and joined in the jump rope event.  I didn’t dare even try to explain to Jenn the intricacies of  “Double Dutch” which I had learned when I was young.

Anyway imagination, a rope or a spaldeen or a box or chalk could all lead to hours of fun, games and adventures.

I may be wrong but I don’t see this as much any more.  We have all of these electronics that entertain us all. 

Maybe it is because I am older but there still seems to be nothing better than a cardboard box, some clothesline, a small ball or some chalk to get the imaginative juices flowing.

Time to put down the IPAD and Iphone.  Put away the play station or Xbox.  Go outside and dream, create and see what happens.

Maybe that is one of the reasons I love to write, I can create, make believe and the possibilities are endless.

For example, the only note I wrote about this blog entry earlier in the week was “ a cardboard box” and look at where it took me…..

See you next week.

PS I wrote a few weeks ago about courage.  I included information about LJ.  LJ, a 6 year old with DIPG (Diffuse Intrinisic Pontine Glioma). LJ lost his battle with this dreadful disease on Friday. He is no longer in pain or suffering from treatments.  He is whole and healthy and happy.  He is with God.  During this holiest of weeks, I ask you pray for LJ and his family and friends.  They have endured a journey none of us would want to experience but their faith has gotten them through the last 4 years and will get them through they days to come. May God bless them all and keep them in his loving arms. 

I just have to get through the spring and the year is over

Growing up in The Bronx, I thought milk came from a container, eggs in their little crate, meat in styrofoam trays with plastic wrap.

As a child I didn’t make the connection between the cows or chickens that made their contribution to the items listed above.

If you grew up without trees and vegetable gardens why would you think anything else?

Nothing gowns in the concrete.

My parents told me about the vegetable man who would bring his truck through the streets of the Bronx yelling his arrival. Women would come out and buy the fresh vegetables and fruit.  I do not remember this taking place  but am sure my Mom’s recollections were true.

I was thinking yesterday I am so looking forward to buying fresh vegetables from the roadside stand near my house.

Corn, tomato’s, cucumbers, mushrooms, brussel sprouts, green beans, artichokes will all be part of my weekend food prep soon.

Oh and let’s not forget zucchini, eggplant and edamame.

Yum.

The plants of spring become treats of summer.

I can’t wait to have a red seedless grape that doesn’t taste tart.

We do pay a price to get to that summer season.

We get to enjoy the beauty of blooming flowers and trees. But oh my gosh the pollen.  I can’t remember the last time I went a full day without a couple of coughing fits or sneezing.

I would love to open my windows and enjoy the lovely breezes but with them comes the “yellow stuff” that leaves its trail all over my porch and glass table.  It can get so thick I could write my name in it. Yuck!

So the windows stay closed.

By the time the pollen is gone, it becomes too hot to leave the windows open.

Well there is always the fall to enjoy the open windows.  Well, late fall here in South Carolina.

It is worth the spring allergies for the taste of that fresh tomato.  The thought of a sliced tomatoes sandwich  on white bread with mayo.  Nirvana.

We are already one quarter of the way through the year.

It is hard to believe Memorial Day is next month.

The community pool will finally be open without having to sign up for what hours you want to attend so you could social distance (2021 rules) or the summer of 2020 when it was closed the whole season.

Actually, the pool opens much earlier in the year. It is heated but I have become such a southern weenie that I complain about getting out of the water and feeling cold. 

The days fly by.  Almost too quickly.  It is scary.

I remember back when i was young and it seemed to take a zillion years to get through a school year or from Christmas to Christmas.

Now I blink my eyes and it is time to flip another page on the monthly calendar.

In April, I will get the Hallmark Ornament book for 2022.  Yes, the Christmas ornament book.

Jenn and I have already discussed what photos will be on our Christmas card this year.

As you all know thoughts of Christmas are never far from my heart or mind. I also it annoys the heck out of others that I think about the holidays so often.  Sorry folks, it is what it is.

This is also one of those rare years where Jenn’s birthday will fall on Election Day and mine falls on Thanksgiving. 

I am actually looking forward to Jenn’s more than mine.  I wonder why? LOL

See you next week.

Here’s to the underdogs….

There have been many times when I have planned something or gone somewhere and expected to have a good time.

The result occasionally was “meh”.

Then I would have the unexpected movements that were surprisingly great.

Take Friday night for example.

I was tired from the week of work.

Jenn and I decided to run errands on Saturday instead of Friday after work.

Win.

We decided to watch the Men’s NCAA game St. Peter’s vs Perdue.

Most people already knew St Peter’s was a Cinderella team.

Making it into the “sweet sixteen” was great but now they had a chance to become part of the “elite eight”.

The game was amazing.

Jenn and I screamed and carried on as if we had been lifelong fans.

And while that game was going on Jenn also had the Lady Gamecocks tournament game on her IPAD.

For two ladies who would put basketball toward the bottom of their “want to watch list” it was so entertaining.

When the games were both over, we laughed and cheered.

Now we expected the Lady Gamecocks to win, they went into the tournament as a number one seed.

But St. Peter’s was a number 15 seed.

Playing way over their head.

I love seeing an underdog surprise people.

It reminded me of the NY Giants 2007 season.

In 2007, each week in the playoffs the Giants had to win on the road.

They made it all the way to the Super Bowl where they faces the NE Patriots who were undefeated.

The Pat’s win and they would have the perfect season.

The only thing between NE and football history was the underdog Giants.

Surprisingly, the Giants won.

What a great moment (except for Pat’s fans).

In order to be fair, I felt the same pain in 2004. When the NY Yankees were up 3 games to none in the divisional playoffs against their arch enemy, the Boston Red Sox.

The Yankees only had to win one game to go to the World Series.

They lost the next 4 games in a row and went home for the season.

It was awful to watch.

Well, I have planned my day so I am free and ready to watch my new favorite team, St. Peter’s play UNC at 5:00, followed by the Lady Gamecocks.

If St. Peter’s wins they go up against Duke in the final four.

If not, they have had an unbelievable run and I will probably still watch the final four, since a game between Duke and UNC will be epic.

Two universities just 14 miles away battling it out and the fact it is Coach K’s final season.

But if the unbelievable happens and St. Peter’s wins, I might have to shop for a t shirt to wear next week end.

So cheers to the little guys, the underdogs. 

Best of luck St. Peter’s you are winners in my book no matter what the final score is today!

See you next week!

The Sunday Rides

It is hard to believe there was a time when life was so simple.

Sunday afternoon or after dinner, Dad would say “Let’s go for a ride”.

He would load all of us on the station wagon and off we would go.

Destination unknown.

We would roll down the windows and feel the breeze against our faces.

In the summer, it would be a warm breeze but it beat the heat of our bedroom.

In the early years, there was no fan in our bedroom window.

Later on a box fan was put in the bedroom window.

All it really did was circulate the hot air.

And of course, the car didn’t have air conditioning.

Well, at least those of us with a window seat felt the breeze. 

There was normally a battle for who got stuck in the middle of second seat.

If the third seat was folded open that caused a new battle as to who got to ride backwards.

Dad would stop at a local gas station (Sinclair gas I think) and ask for $2 or maybe $5 worth of “high test”.

The gas attendant would ask “do you want your oil checked?”, as he cleaned the windshield.

We would ride for an hour or more.

I am not sure Dad even knew where we were headed.  

A rare stop at a Howard Johnson’s for an ice cream cone was a major treat.

During a milk strike in NY, I remember Dad driving us into Connecticut to find milk to get us through the week.

I knew how far we had traveled because the apartment buildings began fading away and we would turn on to some highway .

Then there would be trees.

On my South Bronx street there wasn’t one tree.

When we move to the Pelham Bay section of the Bronx, there were a few trees (maybe 2) on the sidewalk of our block.

The Sunday car rides were an adventure.

Music on the radio.

I can still see my Dad, left arm handling on the side of his open window and right hand on the steering wheel.

Before we knew it we were back home.

Dad would then enjoy parallel parking the wagon in some tight parking space. The price you paid for moving you car.

I guess “taking a ride” is in my genes.

Unfortunately, with todays gas prices you cannot take off just on a whim.

I have found you can find places of interest while running errands.

This morning, it was a big shock that Jenn and I were out of the house at 9:06.

A quick trip to Walmart followed by a stop to pick up bagels from our favorite bagel shop.

We then went to Port Royal which is just a few miles away.

One of our favorite shops, Maynards, has finally reopened.

We picked up a few items there and we were ready to fill up the tank and head home.

Then I remembered a few weeks ago taking a short cut on some back roads and could see some shrimp boats docked.

I decided today was the time to find them.

Jenn and I ventured back and forth and finally saw a parking lot with a lot of cars.

We headed over that way.

We saw a sign for a restaurant called “The Fishcamp”.

And there they were, the shrimp boats.

We pulled in the parking lot, Jenn got out and snapped a few pictures.

She also took a picture of a small cruise ship that is normally up in the Great Lakes area that has been here since COVID hit.  It were brought here to be worked on and it was cheaper to keep it docked here.

I am sure some time soon, it will be gone and make it’s trip back north.

Below are a few of the pictures that Jenn took today.

While it may not have been the Sunday rides that my dad took us on, it was a fun adventure this morning.

I drove home with a smile on my face from what I had just seen and what I had remembered from those Sunday’s past.

Anything that makes me smile and brings back good memories is well…..priceless.

See you next week.

The different faces of courage

The definition of courage- mental or moral strength to venture, persevere and withstand danger, fear or difficulty.

In the last week, I have seen different versions of the word courage.

Some are new to what I have seen but each had an impact on me in the last few days.

A President of a foreign country, a women at the top of her profession and a young boy with a catastrophic diagnosis.

President of a foreign country-

President Zelensky of the Ukraine.  As if I would have to say where he is from. I wrote about him last week.  It is great to observe what a true leader is in the face of his country being attacked by one person who can only be described as pure evil. I watch each day as he stands up and leads his country.  That’s courage.

A woman at the top of her profession-

Public speaking is something she is so familiar with as part of her job.  Entertaining, engaging and able to make you believe she is talking to just you and no one else matters.  These are some of the skills she has exhibited in her role/profession.  Then her world changes.  The initial diagnosis is Parkinsons Disease.  After a period of time, there are symptoms that don’t fit the bill.  While getting additional medical opinions and tests, she finds herself praying that it is “only” Parkinsons.  The new diagnosis is Multiple System Atrophy.  She fights each day to keep life “ as normal as possible”.  Finally, she comes to the realization that someone else will have to do the job.  She will have to step aside and become the mentor.  Eventually into new position that she cane do within the confines of her current limitations.

She has played an active role in an annual conference.  This year was different.  At the end of the conference, one of her former employees brings her out on the stage of the Kroger Center.  She is in a wheelchair.  She then shares the story of her journey the last few years.  As one of the conference exercises, attendees had to write on their arms “who you are but no what is visual to any observer”. She wrote on her arms: “It can take everything but it cannot have my smile, humor or my faith.”  She ended with a standing ovation.  That’s courage.

A 6 year old with a diagnosis of DIPG (Diffuse Intrinisic Pontine Glioma). 

He and his family have been battled this dreadful disease for a few years now.  Hospital stays, hundreds of appointments, medications and clinical trails. Look up the definition of DIPG.  It is scary, heartbreaking and dreadful.  

The one thing that has gotten this family through these years of one issue after the next is faith and prayer.Knowing they have done all they can to find answers and seek options has been trying on everyone is the family one way or another. Those close to the family and even those like me who observe from a  distance have not been left unchanged as the days, weeks, months and years pass.  We ask why without any answers.  We pray but at times are not sure what we should be asking for in those prayers. 

This little boy and his family continue to fight each day.  It is painful to watch and stressful for all.  Each day is a day of hope and love and bravery. That’s courage.

We do not know how any of these ‘profiles in courage” will turn out. All we can do is watch, admire, hope and pray for them all as they battle forth.

Only God knows what will happen and we will leave it in his loving arms.

See you next week.

PS I you would like to read more about the little boy, there is a FB page Cancer’s Kryptonite-A Superhero’s journey to conquer DIPG you can follow.