Tag Archives: memories

Another Stroll Down Memory Lame

Posted on February 15, 2014 by mohawkvalleygirl

Does anybody else remember this:

“TASTES GREAT!”

“LESS FILLING!”

“I still don’t know why they wanted me to be in this commercial.”

Yes, I am about to write a Friday Lame Post worthy of Non-Sequitur Thursday. The fact is, once again, I got nuthin'(the period doesn’t look right after the apostrophe). (Oh, but it looks fine after the parenthesis.)

I didn’t even try very hard to write anything while I was at work. I managed almost a page on my novel (it seems to be going well, but I’m sure that’s deceiving), and I conversed with a co-worker.

Oh, here’s… I don’t know if it’s a random observation or what, but the word is “converse.” Certain sergeants in the army said “conversate,” as in, “You don’t need to be off there conversating.” My elementary school teachers used to say “visiting,” as in, “Do your work and don’t be visiting with your neighbor!” Incidentally, I almost always visited with my neighbor, even when the teacher sat us boy/girl in hopes of curtailing such a thing.

And how about that, back when boy/girl was supposed to be a bad thing? Was it ever, really? I mean, I didn’t want them to be my boyfriends, but I would always talk to the boys (visit? conversate?).

Just as a final note (and here’s the real non-sequitur of the day): I think today is my 1,000th post. Isn’t that cool? Happy Friday, everyone.

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I’m Not a Basket Case

Posted on January 14, 2014 by mohawkvalleygirl

For this week’s Middle-aged Musings Monday, I would like to dissect a ditty I learned in elementary school. I still sing it on occasion, because it has kind of a catchy tune. Luckily for you, dear reader, this is not an audio blog. Without my awful singing voice, then, here is the first part:

There was an old woman tossed up in a basket,
Fifteen times as high as the moon.
And where she was going, I couldn’t but ask it,
For in her hand she carried a broom.

Excuse me, what? Of course, I’m no expert on astronomy, but considering how small the moon looks from here, how in the world is this guy seeing this old woman, never mind the basket and the broom (I say “this guy,” because there was a picture of a guy next to this song in my fourth grade music book) (although it might not have been fourth grade; I just thought the sentence would sound better if I was specific) (but I digress).

Who tossed her, the Incredible Hulk?

OK, let’s assume the guy has the Hubble Space Telescope, how does he manage to carry on a conversation with her, which he does, because the song continues:

“Old Woman, Old Woman, Old Woman,” quoth I,
“Oh whither, or whither so high?”
“To swee-eep the co-obwebs out of the sky-y-y!”

I guess that was how people talked back then, “quoth I.” In my younger days, it would have been, “So I sez to her…” These days, it might be, “So I’m like, ‘What up, Lady?’ and she’s all, ‘Sweeping the cobwebs, dude.'”

Do people still call other people “dude”? It was “man” in the ’60s and ’70s, “dude” in the ’80s and ’90s, and then I completely lost touch. I did mention that these were middle-aged musings, didn’t I?

Come to think of it, these days, he could have texted her. This probably would include “lol” and “fml,” but I really don’t know a lot about texting.

It just goes to show, though, how I took everything at face value when I was a little kid. You taught me a song about a lady in a basket, and I sang it. It isn’t till YEARS later that I finally say, “Waaait a minute!”

On further reflection, that basket may have been sixteen times as high as the moon.

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Shouldn’t the Mice Have Eaten Cheese?

Posted on September 9, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

As I checked out the listings for TCM one Saturday, in my ongoing quest for cinematic cheese, I came across a kind of a blast from my past, Gay Purr-ee (1962).

I remember that I watched Gay Purr-ee with my sisters one Saturday afternoon roughly a hundred years ago. I remember that I watched it more than I remember watching it, if you see what I mean. I was pretty young, although I couldn’t tell you my exact age.

I know I was rather unsavvy about cinema (that was expertise I was to acquire in later years) (and anybody who said, “Still waiting, huh?” I bet you’re pretty pleased with yourself). I thought it was The Aristocats. In my defense, beautiful fluffy white cat with a rough and ready tom for a boyfriend. Which was pretty much all I knew about The Aristocats, either.

One thing I remembered well: the tom cat has this thing he does when he goes after a mouse. It’s as if he’s possessed and becomes a mouse-catching machine. Or maniac. His eyes bug out, his fur sticks out, his claws come out… it’s pretty cool. And if figures hugely into the plot, so I don’t like to say too much about it.

Anyways, I DVR’d the movie for nostalgia’s sake. Eventually I got around to watching it.

Who knew there were movie star voices! It seems I should have at least known Judy Garland plays the beautiful white cat. I knew who Judy Garland was; we watched The Wizard of Oz every year when it came on television (this was the olden days, even before VCRs).

As I watched it this time, I also recognized at least one voice from the Rankin/Bass Christmas specials, but I did not track down the name that went with it. Of course I would not have known the name as a kid, but I might have been expected to say, “Hey, that’s Burgermeister Meisterburger!”

Speaking of Christmas, at times the animation reminded me of Mr. Magoo’s Christmas Carol or How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I believe I saw the name Chuck Jones at the beginning, and I think he had something to do with those.

It’s sometimes fun to watch a movie you saw years and years ago and say, “I remember that part!” and “I don’t remember that AT ALL!” Sometimes you say, “Wow, I had lousy taste as a kid.” Sometimes you say, “That was worth a watch.” Gay Purr-ee was fortunately in the latter category. It’s not a great movie. I won’t be searching out the DVD for my younger relatives, but I didn’t mind watching it once. And so my search for cheese continues. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

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Hair Today

Posted on June 2, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Well, today is the day. This afternoon, I get shaved as part of a St. Baldrick’s Day event to raise money for children’s cancer research. I begged for donations and got quite a few. Now I’d like to take a few words to honor my hair while it’s still on my head.

I have almost always disliked my hair. That’s pretty typical, I think. Most of us wish we looked different from what we do. People with curly hair want straight and vice versa. Tall people long to be petite, while us shorties envy the statuesque. Oh dear, now I’m getting into half-baked philosophy and it isn’t Lame Post Friday. I’ll stop now.

As a child I had blond hair, very straight. I remember once when my hair was freshly washed and dry, my mother said, “Cindy has hair like an angel.” My dad replied, “Too bad she doesn’t have disposition to match.” The sad thing was, even my hair was not angelic on a regular basis, but let’s not continue with that memory.

In the ’80s (the 1980s, wise guy) (you know who you are), I discovered the miracle of permanents. I went curly. Recently a high school friend posted an old yearbook picture on Facebook. Look at all that hair! I’m a little sorry I don’t know how to add the picture here, but only a little. Why would I want to remind everybody that I used to be much skinnier and cuter than I am now?

I think my favorite way to wear my hair is short and spiky, which look I rocked from the late ’90s till about a year ago. For the past 10 months or so I’ve been growing it out in anticipation of the shave. I’m quite excited to finally have it done.

If anybody wants to make a last minute contribution in honor of my bald pate, here once again is my participant website: http://www.stbaldricks.org/participants/mypage/642777/2013.

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