Pam Webb

a writer's journey as a reader

Archive for the category “America”

25 Oct 2014
9 Comments

Graphically and Comically Speaking


Confession: I am a reformed annoying little sister. One of my annoying habits involved sneaking into my brother’s room and get into his stuff. When he wasn’t looking, I crept into his room and stole furtive sneak reads of his comic book collection. He fussed quite loudly whenever he caught me, but I couldn’t resist. What little girl could resist feasting on Disney comics, for those were my brother’s faves. He mainly bought Uncle Scrooge along with those mini-comic books (comics are actually magazines not books, if you think about it).

Uncle Scrooge made sense to me as a kid–I saw through his skinflinty ways and saw a softie. Image: wikipedia

My comic passion ignited I am hooked and remember summer afternoons binging on comic book reads with friends in our backyard. Years pass and my brother graduates and I move on from Disney to Peanuts to Archie and the gang. Flash forward and I’m in college and I’m still reading cartoons, although they are now sophisticated commentary: Doonesbury.
From Doonesbury I easily switched to Far Side and Calvin and Hobbes and Zits. I introduced my own kiddos to the joy of comics, buying the big treasury collections which I read as well. They didn’t bat an eye about their mother reading a Better or for Worse collection with her own bowl of cereal in the morning.

Cereal and comics–best times. Image: stockfreeimages.com

Oh yeah, in high school my research paper was “What’s So Funny About the Comics?” I wrote about the history of the comics from their beginnings clear up to modern-day offerings. I prefer Snoopy over Garfield any day.
This weekend my youngest progeny visited for his monthly Mom Meal. I dragged him along on errands, one of which being the library. Besides picking up a couple of movies we picked up some books. Actually that’s an understatement. We staggered out of the library with mixture of graphic novels (Beowulf rocks), Herge Tin Tins, Marvel Encyclopedias, Batman, Zombie stuff, and DMZ. About twenty books. My son, who is all grown up, living on his own, and is a responsible adult, holed up on the couch the rest of the afternoon and feasted on his found treasures.

Forget surfing the Internet–surf through a comic book instead! Image: slj.com

I’m okay with that. I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if I was, wouldn’t I? Reading comic books didn’t warp my mind, didn’t ruin my kiddos to read “real” books and I’m quite glad to see them legitimized and sitting on their own shelf in the library.
Anyone else still reading the comics page? I only wish I could manage to do so without feeling so silly to see how Luann is doing these days when I’m in the staff room.

Posted in America, Blogging, children, Reading, Reflections, Writing and tagged , ,
23 Sep 2014
3 Comments

Why We Say #10: of Chickens and Whistles


“George, do you think we can afford to go out to dinner and maybe take in a show? Will that be too expensive?”

“Why, Martha. The expense of going out on the town with my best girl is chicken feed. Grab your hat, darling, and let’s skeddadle downtown.”

George and Martha probably enjoyed their night out because more than likely George, being a generous fellow, had made his fortune and a spending money mattered no longer to him. In fact, a few dollars was a mere pittance, like tossing crumbs to the birds.

And that’s exactly where the expression “chicken feed” comes from–tossing small bits out at a time.  Chickens don’t have the capacity to chew up their food (ever see a chicken smile?) and must peck at small amounts. Apply that idea to money and chicken feed means a small amount of spending, not enough to worry or get choked up over.

image: thedo.gs not your average chicken

 

“Martha, are you going to be able to get that spot of gravy out of my tie? I have to look sharp for tomorrow’s presentation.”

“No worries, George. I’ll get it clean as a whistle.”

I doubt Martha was whistling was she worked on George’s tie.  Honestly, George, don’t you know gravy is just looking for the opp to drip on ties?

As for the expression “clean as whistle”, this one is pretty much as it sounds (sorry, the pun overcame the keyboard). About the time of Huck Finn and company, boys would find reeds and poke holes in them to make their whistles. The cleaner the reed, the cleaner or clearer the sound.

image: investitureachievement.org

Posted in America, Expressions, Uncategorized, Words and tagged , , ,
13 Sep 2014
5 Comments

Oh the Wonderful World of Disney Classics


Writing about Reading Rainbow made me think how fortunate I am to have grown up with the real Disney. The one where Walt would step out from his desk and spin a little introduction relating to the feature presentation. Tom Hanks in Saving Mr. Banksgot it down pretty well.

Wwod open.jpg

image: wikipedia.org What a wonderful world

Sundays nights I would look forward to whatever presentation Uncle Walt had for us to watch.  There was always a variety ranging from live action movies with top actors of the day to mesmerizing and delightful animated shows (my favorite).

With the advent of packaged programming I was able to introduce my own kiddos to the Disney treasures through the thoughtful purchasing practices of our local library. Presented as Walt Disney Treasures, these are samples of Disney’s live action best. Even though the kiddos are grown up and gone, the MEPA and I don’t mind checking out one of the treasures for our nightly movie watch.  Disney didn’t cut corners on production. The acting and scripts were always prime and still hold up well after all these years.

Do you remember Disney? Better yet, anyone come across the re-released treasures?

A couple of Treasure favorites so far:

images: amazon.com


Posted in America, children, Family, Movies, Reflections and tagged , , , ,
03 Sep 2014
3 Comments

Labor Intensive Days


Well, those laid-back, lazy days of summer break get stowed away with my white shoes after September 2. (Yes, I know I’m showing my age by my stodgy self-imposed fashionista rule).

White shoes for summer

September whites still a no-no? image: theclothingmenu.com

 

What I don’t like about the first day of school:

  • Trying to get through the name rosters without totally slicing and dicing the pronunciation.
  • Going over classroom expectations because even though I need to, I doubt anyone is seriously listening to yet another teacher reeling off the rule spiel.
  • Fretting over what I’m wearing. Hair and wardrobe malfunctions do not create good first impressions.
  • Trying to reason with my stomach that grazing days are done for now, and to please hush it’s malcontent state. Especially since our hallway is slated for second lunch this year.
  • How tired I am at the end of the day. Remember the Barbie clip in Toy Story? Yep, that “it’s exhausting being that up and happy feeling” really does slam a person.
  •  My feet hurt. Stylish shoes still rule over sense. I doubt I will rock Reeboks to school.
  • Timing bathroom breaks. And no, my classroom is not even close to the staff rest rooms. I have line up with everyone else. On the other hand, I do get to hear some unexpected choice bits while stalled for time.
  • Dreading that stage fright feeling of “am I gonna bomb or be the bomb?” Really, it’s like running a three show routine with three different audiences. Are they going to get my jokes? Do they respond in the right places? I commiserate with ever Saturday Night Live host about this time of year.

But the cool thing about September is that I do get to go back to school.

  •  There’s that excited buzz of the new as everyone returns to the hive of learning.
  •  What about the opportunity of “clean slate”–never mind last year, this year is gonna be even better.
  •  New clothes! I took advantage of Coldwater Creek closeouts this year.
  • Renewing and forming friendships among staff. “Old and new faces sharing spaces.”
  • Trying out new ideas on old curriculum. “I can’t wait to release this new perspective of Beowulf.”
  •  Schedule–I like a well-ordered life and getting back into a routine makes me humm like a happy llama.

What are your back-to-school thoughts? What side of the desk are you on?

Posted in America, education, Reflections, Teachers and tagged , , ,
21 Aug 2014
16 Comments

Reading Rainbow Redeux


I grew up with Reading Rainbow. Well, kinda sorta.  The MEPA and I were fairly strict about television (that and we didn’t want to pay for cable) and pretty much the only TV the kiddos watched came via PBS programming.  Reading Rainbow won out over Sesame Street and Mister Rogers. I didn’t want the television to be their babysitter so I would plunk myself down on the couch with them and we would relish our R&R time together.

image: geocaching.com “Take a look. It’s in a book. Reading Rainbow.”

The Grammy Award winning program aired from 1983 to 2009–that’s a lot of books! Levar Burton became as recognized and as trusted as Big Bird and Mr. Rogers in guiding children towards enrichment.

When Reading Rainbow went off the air, the world seemed a bit dimmer. Even though I hadn’t watched the show for years since the progeny grew up and moved to other entertainment *sniff* I still nurtured a soft spot for Levar’s brand of book boostering; if an episode aired and I happened to have the time I would watch it. With the passing of Reading Rainbow I thought “Well, there goes that wish.” You see, I harbored the secret wish of writing a book that might be selected as a Reading Rainbow feature read.

All is not lost, because Levar has fulfilled one of his secret wishes and has purchased the Reading Rainbow brand and is creating an app for this generation.  He initially hoped to raise one million dollars on Kickstarter–that amount was achieved in only one day.  He recently ended his campaign with a staggering amount of over five million dollars.

For more information go directly to the website. I’m looking forward to introducing Reading Rainbow to the grandkiddo.  Heck, I might download the app for myself.

Are you nostalgic for a little Reading Rainbow. Check this out:

Or maybe this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFieOMWRZSk

It’s easy to see Reading Rainbow made an impact on one generation.  I foresee its impact on this one.

But you don’t have to take my word for it.

Posted in America, Books, children, education, Reading, Reflections, reviews, technology, Writing and tagged , , ,
31 Jul 2014
5 Comments

Rolling Over


Displaying photo.JPG

 

I glanced at the numbers clicking away the miles, rhythmically measuring off the coveted roll over. I envisioned the possibilities: fireworks, though it’d be daytime, a serendipitous cavalcade of singers and dancers ala Doris Day:

or at least the significant Beethoven four beat–da da da dum. None of these happen as I turn into my driveway. I am three miles shy of my goal. My anticipated day of Shazzam will not be happening today.

A bit dramatic, I know, but ever I was a little kid I held great significance in the reckoning of the great roll over. It only happens once in the lifetime, at least I have only witnessed it once. And it happened today. And I almost missed it. This is way the MEPA, the Most Excellent Personal Assistant, is valued beyond belief. He noticed the momentous occasion on the way to obtain yogurt and fresh bananas:
“Look, Hon–it turns over in one mile.”
“What?! Ack, I almost missed it.”
Fumbling for my iPhone I quickly recorded the event. Blurry, yes; however, it is recorded for always and forever.

Displaying photo.JPG

What about you? Have you owned a car long enough to record the reckoning of the rollover?

My parents traded out cars regularly every five or so years (part of the old American dream, you know), so I never actually witnessed the event, although my kidmagination just assumed something significant happened at 100,000 miles–a second chance perhaps? All fibs erased? A sharper remembrance for the eights of the multiplication table? Something. I knew something had to happen.
Of course something had happened: I have saved $20,000 because I replaced the timing belt instead of buying a new Honda. I can’t wait for the next ($)100,000 miles and what it will have in store.
This set of 100,000 has seen the progeny through driver’s ed and high school graduation, trips to visit the grandkiddo, jaunts to do book research, vacation wanderings, Sunday drive escapes, and has ushered us into glad tidings of empty nestering. New car? No, not yet. This one still has a few more memories to accumulate.

Posted in America, celebrations, Family, Reflections, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , ,
06 Jul 2014
11 Comments

Road Trip Reflections


It’s been about a week since I’ve been back from my Road Trip. Along the way I jotted notes and here’s what I came up with:


Reader Board: “without ice cream all would be darkness and chaos”

Rest stop bathroom poster: “no one should force you to work”–immigrant worker rights poster

Parking lot: one legged-seagull and a choir of grackles.

Dairy Queen: girl to grandpa–“how do they get the swirl on top of cone?”

Wireless Connect Option:
Drunkengiantgrogshop; dishonestdon–what neighborhood have I stopped in?

Window Shopping: seen on bib–“these fools have turned my super cape backwards.”

Coffee Shoppe: eclectic chairs and tables, tall ceilings, bookcase of children’s books, windowed playroom with dress up clothes, chalkboard walls, train set, kitchenette hutch. A brood of children frolicking while moms and dads read, deviced, paperworked. Lovely chocolate chip cookies too.


At the park: full out barbeques and families on a Saturday night

Dessert

Any guesses what this deliciousness might be? Oooh, yummers. Dark chocolate wrapped around cheesecake with raspberry crème garnish sauce. Note the in-house signature chocolates decorating the sides. Caloric penance.


At the restaurant: a dessert so beautiful I actually took a photo


In the parking lot: grated fern, a statement of deeper naturalism versus industrialism that Keats, Byron, or any of the Romanticist poets would have found poignant.

Trapped Fern

This can be viewed as either a poignant expression of nature being trapped by encroaching society or how nature finds a way to bloom amidst the trappings of industrialization. Or–isn’t that weirdly cool?


On the highway: no way, amazing, sleek as a Woolworth counter grilled cheese sandwich on a pastel Bakelite plate, a blast from the past–an actual Greyhound bus sporting a “hundred years” sticker to boot.

image: greyhound.com What are your memories of Greyhound?



In the motel room: white noise box with ocean waves, complete with seagulls scree; forest dawn, crickets and birds quite charming,; rain pattering, too close to home; fan, buzzy hum. A novelty never before encountered and even available for purchase. Tried it on first night and grandkiddo, the one who needs a minimum of two-three books, some conversation, and a bit of snuggling was out within two minutes of being lulled by waves.


Return home: a road trip is not complete without road construction delay. At one section the two lane highway is down to one lane and nobody is moving. Not no way. Not no how. Behind a little red car which is behind a huge white truck, yet from strained sneak peeks the road looks clear ahead. The MEPA is quietly muttering for  the car ahead to edge around truck. Finally it does, and like a cork popping from a bottle, traffic started flowing again. The problem? The exit ramp so full it flowed onto road. No flagger directing traffic, construction crew absolutely  clueless to havoc below on highway.

Dinner stop: connection with youngest progeny for dinner. Roadside grazing produces guilt to eat lightly–salad bar. Yet when it’s $12.00 though all one can eat, I strive to get my  monetary satisfaction. It is possible to overdose on greenery, especially when artichoke hearts and curried chicken salad are involved.

Rolling in late to home some 6 hours later than the Google Maps prediction: truly there is no place like home

 

Posted in America, children, Family, Reflections, summer, travel and tagged , , , , , ,
03 Jul 2014
5 Comments

Just Another Smalltown Fourth of July


 

small-town-parade

image: writeonnewjersey.com. I don’t live in New Jersey, but a small town parade sings across America

Another perk of living in a small town is the Fourth of July celebration. The day starts off with the town parade. It starts at 9 am, rain or shine, and concludes around 10 am, depending on where you are sitting. There are options with this  parade: watch or participate. I’ve done both several times. Both forms are fun. The past couple of years though, watching is much more my style.

In the past, I’ve hauled the kids and bikes to participate in our church’s parade theme entry. I think that year was patriotic. We dressed up in red, white, and blue and I attached the tandem bike trailer so the youngest progeny could ride with his mum. Flag waving, crepe paper streaming, and cycling along made for a great Kodak moment.

Another time (actually a couple of times) I marched with a group of teachers with our signs signifying our thanks to the community. I am blessed to live in a school district where parents and the school board actually love teachers. When I march along with my compadres I usually bring along my bubble wands and make a spectacle of myself. True, I am not the usual English teacher.

After the parade it’s breaking out the BBQ. Past years involve family or church get togethers. Since we are now empty-nesters and the chickadees have flown, a twosome BBQ just doesn’t hold the fun factor like a full out group gaggle. And we admittedly have become rather hermitish in our ways and avoid the big organized ta-dos. I do try to make a special supper, even if it means hauling the plates outside to eat al fresco.

I do love a good pyrotechnics extravaganza so I drag the MEPA out at night for the fireworks down at the beach. Looonnngg ago we would grab our blanket, chairs, and snacks and huddle with our group among the masses. Now as E-nesters we skulk among the secret backsides of buildings and empty lots to feast on the fireworks from afar so we can scoot out before the crowd disperses. The fireworks traffic tangle afterwards always lasts twice as long as the show so making a clean getaway involves strategy.

Somehow once the Fourth of July hits it seems like summer has really begun.

How about y’all? What are your memorable aspects for the Fourth?

Posted in America, Americans, celebrations, holidays, Reflections, summer, Writing and tagged , , , , ,
20 Jun 2014
5 Comments

Penthouse Ponders


image: flickerriver.com Looking out over the world from my penthouse view…

This week I am on my yearly sojourn of eldest progeny visitation. She now lives in a third floor apartment with a view of the neighborhood park–well, sideways squint from the bathroom window. There is no elevator. This is an o-l-d building. If I were a realtor I would employ the words “charming,” “has character,” “a link to the city’s past.” In other words, the stairs are steep and the hallways long, and the foyer smell is a bit aromatic. The apartment itself is charming with lots of light from the east, west, and southern exposure. Her last place was a basement studio. The window and light were practically non-existent. The landlords seem to be trying to update the building. There are mock wood floors, cream-colored stucco walls, deadbolts, and newish windows. They don’t quite close all the way but there is hope for a fix in the works.

After the fourth night of staying in a third floor walk up having lived in relatively ground level dwellings all my life, I have the following observations:

  • Costco shopping hauls are ludicrous because all that is bought can only be hauled if held in each hand
  • Always think about if you have everything before leaving the apartment
  • Should I take the garbage down?
  • Looking at life from a bird’s-eye view lends a pleasant start to the morning
  • Going outside for some fresh air takes on deeper meaning
  • The opportunity to develop voyeurism is tempting
  • Less is more when it comes to gathering possessions, since it all has to be moved down eventually
  • Having neighbors below makes one more sensitive to noise being made since we were once the neighbor below
  • Streetside parking involves intuition and strategy
  • Buns of steel and stamina are a bonus to the view

These observations might be different if the building had an elevator–then again the rent would probably be higher. There seems to be an irony here: most places charge more for the tippy-top real estate, then again elevators must be part of the equation.

Perhaps if I were in my formative years of twentyish ,a walk-up domicile with windows would be exciting. At present, I am learning an appreciation for my yard, driveway, and ability to amass belongings without too much consequence.

 

 

Posted in America, Blogging, Family, Reflections, travel and tagged , , , ,
11 Jun 2014
8 Comments

O Me, O My, My Birthday


Here is a math problem:

“Person X, soon to have a birthday, realizes this birthday will be the same chronological year as the birth year. Person X also realizes the birth year and achieved age are flipped numbers of the year of high school graduation. Given the birth year, chronological age, and graduation year, how old is Person X.”

I think I had this math problem in my eighth grade textbook.  This is probably why I decided to major in English.

But it’s true: I realized something unique about this year’s birthday–I shall turn the age of my birth year, at least the last two digits. When I compute that in my brain it sounds like I’m much older than I really am. What it comes down to is this:
I’m not sure how I feel about this particular chronos marking.

  •  I’m not old enough to retire, although some establishments elect to grant me a discount.
  • I’m past AARP’s initial invitation.
  • I’m old enough to know better, yet still have the gumption to still give it a whirl. Then again, it depends on the “it.” Bungee-jumping requires a deeper consideration these days as does the all you can eat buffet.
  • I can remember the “when I was”, although I am amazed at how long ago the when truly was, plus some of the details are fuzzy.
  • I no longer look forward to birthday cake because I only see calories laughing at me under all those candles.
  • Speaking of candles, the little skinny invids have been replaced by the fat doubles. I find this an insulting truism of my present state of figure.

My mother raised me thinking birthdays were really extra special. Part of that reasoning stems from waking up and seeing flags hanging up all over town and in front of everyone’s house. I never questioned my mother’s ability to achieve this. She was that kind of mother. It wasn’t until I turned about twelve that I learned June 14th signified Flag Day and hanging out the flag was expected. Please no comments about my naiveté or lack of American holiday knowledge. It wasn’t until I became an adult that I discovered another disenchantment–birthdays are only really a big deal up until the age of 21.

The Dr. knows how to make the special day special!

All the big deal birthday milestones take place in this order:

1. turning one: not too cognizant but it’s a big deal nonetheless
2. turning five: Yay! Go to school!
3. turning ten: Wow! double-digit
4. turning thirteen: All right! Teen Time
5. turning sixteen: Yes, I’m gonna drive my car
6. turning eighteen: Yay! Get out of school! Oh yeah–vote for important stuff too.
7. turning twenty-one: Omigosh! I’m considered an adult–all kinds of perks.

After twenty-one there are some milestones to consider such as thirty, forty, fifty–okay, I’ll stop there. All those in between and beyond years are rather tedious and accumulative. Yes, it is nice to get cards and presents, and okay, one small piece of cake.  The wake up to ME day (check out the Dr. Seuss book) isn’t happening anymore.  Is that sad or a state of reality?

For instance, instead of relaxing and trying to encourage the Queen for a Day mode, I allowed myself to get talked into proctoring for the ACT–funny how extra money is a motivator when the car is acting up. This is not how I envision the first part of my birthday. Lounging in bed definitely was part of that vision. Oh well, I don’t sleep past 7am anyway.
The MEPA assured me the rest of the day will proceed better. A muttered “kidnapping” floated my way. I’m not sure if this is a threat or a promise.

How do the rest of you spend your birthdays? Are they still big deals or just a tick on the age stick?

Posted in America, celebrations, holidays, Reflections, summer, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , ,

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