Monday, December 21, 2009

MM- Remembering and Losing Santa

How can I explain that until the age of eight, I believed there was a true
Santa Claus. I mean the white beard, red suit, big belly and all. I can remember putting out milk and cookies for Santa and in the morning it would be gone. So, how did I get to the point where Santa was no more?

Monday, December 14, 2009

Memory Monday- More Childhood Story Ideas

Now that I have decided to go full steam ahead with my childhood story collection and publish it, I am gathering even more stories. Maybe because I have been sick the last week, I am remembering illnesses from my childhood. Two in particular.

I was to be a flower girl in my mother’s first cousin, Pauline’s wedding. I was about three years old. My mother had made my dress and I was all excited but a few days before the wedding I caught the measles or maybe it was the mumps. That was back in the day when those diseases were common. Needless to say I could not be in the wedding. I remember crying and crying, I was so disappointed.

Then when I was about eight, I fell and broke my arm roller skating. We were living on 24th Avenue. I was rushed to Children’s Hospital. And when I say break, I mean I broke my arm. I stayed in the hospital three days.

Oh, yes, mentioning about my childhood illness reminds me of the time we went to get immunizations, how my parents tricked us and how my brother and I almost got a spanking for running away. Okay, I need to flush that story out. Back to the cough medicine and bed.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Back to Memory Monday

In writing my memoirs about a pivotal time in my childhood that culminates in the year 1963, I made a list of memories that would bring this piece together. These stories will be the basis for a book.

They are:

Little Red and Earthquake
Dimond Park
Trick or Treat
Shirley Temple Curls*
Lisa the Creole girl*
The motorcycle girls.- Wendy*
Amos n’ Andy*
Celia, Wendy, Carmela, Jimmy Sue
Debra the bully
Jennifer – best friend- Louisiana Creole- Gumbo
Carmela and Santa Claus
Steven Fong and the Grocery Store- father’s suicide
Roger Chevron and the party
Getting a whipping at my birthday party
Tyrone getting killed on a scooter on 23rd Avenue*
Blackberry Memories*
Manzanita and the Maypole
Playing the radio and the older kids dancing to it
Playing music of the 50s and 60s- This is Dedicated to the One I Love, I Danced to a Quarter of Three, School is Out.
The Ballet- Taking dance lessons with the black bourgeois kids at Barbara Braxton’s studio in West Oakland*
Black dolls/white dolls
The transition from 24th Ave. to Brookdale Ave.
The girl who’s mother ran away with her boyfriend (Kathy?)
Walking to Jennifer’s house
My little red-haired friend at Garfield School*
Walking by Myself to Garfield School- You're a big girl now
Mrs.Feefee taking care of us and the whipping over a hot dog and Birely's orange soda.
Walking to Monkey Wards
Modeling/charm class at Montgomery Wards
Going to Arkansas
Cabiness, Mrs. Jackson and Mr. Jackson-Hamilton Junior High School
Mrs. Eating Tortillas’ at Celia’s house
Going to school after Mom left for work- Flo going to school by herself
The transition from 24th Avenue to Brookdale Avenue

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Things That Work My Nerves

I had one of those days and a lot of things irritated me. This is my list of things that irk me. This is by no means complete but all I can think of right now.

Rude people:

The ones who do not yield at a four-way stop sign. You know the ones who take off behind the car in front of them without regard to if it is their turn.

People who chew and pop gum in public. You can do that all you want in your house or in private. Doing it in public is just tacky and crass.

People who stand so close to you in line at the store, the bank, even at the pharmacy. Back up off me! I don’t know you like that. And there are too many damn germs going around. You ever hear of swine flu?

People who reach across you, step in front of you, stand in front of you and don’t excuse themselves. Total disrespect and hella rude.