Flashback Friday on Saturday: A tribute

My Flashback Friday slipped again. Yes, it is Saturday. But I've been cleaning out my closet (not an easy chore!) - and I stumbled onto this old photograph. That's me displaying a very tiny fish and a very large piece of bubble gum, which is protruding from my mouth. The story of the picture ended up being one of my favorite columns. Although it was published three years ago, the story is timeless. To read about it and see a contest-winning photograph of my dad (taken by my mom), just click on "The Column" link above.

Flashback Friday: Time Rewound

You may not recognize the three ladies above...but you have probably guessed that's me with m'girls WAY back in 1987. It was November and we had decided to surprise Mr. H. with a formal portrait of us for Christmas. We made appointments at the wonderful Arthur Mintz studio in Los Gatos. He was quite well known in the Bay Area and had won countless awards for his talents in portraiture. At the time, he was quite an elderly gentleman with a shock of pure white hair. He was present at the shoot; he set up the scenes and posed us and then let one of his assistants release the shutter. Ashley was 11; Alyssa was 7. I was...well, 22 years younger than I am today!

I chose this photo and the ones that follow for this Flashback Friday because I was remembering something that my good friend Rose Wallis told me when Ashley was pregnant with Gracie. I'd been enlightened by so many friends and family members who had already become grandmothers about what a special bond it was between grandmothers and those grandbabies. But Rose's words resonated with me the most. She said that holding your grandchild is like being given another chance to hold your own babies once more. And oh, boy, did she ever nail that one right on the old noggin!

When I look at that picture I remember the girls exactly as they were at that moment. Ashley was venturing into that "tween" time and she borrowed one of my blouses for the photography session. We did her hair into curls pulled back with a bow - not sure how she feels about that "look" today, but she seemed satisfied with it that day. Alyssa on the other hand is showing her mischevious side in this photo. I loved the deep green velvet dress with the white lace collar - but if you could zoom in REAL CLOSE in this photo, I think you'd have caught a little grit beneath those 7-year old fingernails. She was having way too much fun to stand for much of that dress-up nonsense. But she allowed me to get her all girlified for the day.


Now getting back to what my friend Rose said about holding your own children once more through your grandbabies...I've been delighted with the similarities I've seen between Gracie and her mommy. (And who worked out the miracle that Gracie's other grandma sees traces of Jim in Gracie!?!!!) The picture of Ashley, above, was taken at a cabin we rented in Lake Tahoe when Ashley was about Gracie's age. There are countless moments these days when Gracie gets a look in her eye that brings about an instant flashback to 30-some years ago when Ashley was a toddler. And those days of "holding" your child keep on coming...over and over and over again. It's a feeling that's, well...simply beyond great!

Then there are times when you see your child do something you did as a little kid. I found Alyssa having a little pause to refresh from the sprinklers in our backyard when we lived in San Jose. Now I can't explain it, but how GREAT is the cool, clear water that comes straight from the garden hose on a hot summer day? I know it was one of my favorite treats - and the picture below shows how my grandpa found me helping myself to some water from the sprinkler head in his front yard and he came over to give me a hand. I had a very special bond with my grandparents and I hope with all my heart that my grandchildren will - many years from now - remember the bond they had with me as I do of all the special times that I spent with my own grandparents.

Looking closely at this photo, I see we must have had something going on later that day because my hair was all done up in those tight little "pin curls" that my mother used to do on me - a form of torture, I think. She was a stylin' lady back in the day and it was only natural that I be stylin' too :) (And don't ask me what the deal was on the turned up toes in those goofy summer sandals of mine - but I'm thinking that's just how good that refreshing water was - it made my toes curl!)

Flashback Friday: Mothers Day Times Two

If you could see a full shot of my mother in this black and white photo, you would see that she was quite the fashion plate. Yes, we were in an apple orchard back on that long ago Mothers Day (or perhaps it was Fathers Day, I honestly don't remember which since, as you can see, I was kinda young).

That was the tradition in our family for EVERY holiday: get everybody all dolled up (my dad even wore suits for these auspicious occasions), find a pretty place and stand out there in the soft, loamy, spring earth in your high heeled shoes (well, not my dad) to get your picture taken.

Yes, times - and styles - have changed and these days Mothers Day is a bit less formal - but no less celebrated. Mothers Day remains a Sunday in May where the memories we make are, well...timeless.

This year we celebrated Mothers Day - the "real" day - with the Wagners and the Navones at the senior Wagners' beach home in Aptos. The waves were big and beautiful and it was a restful, relaxing, very special day because not only did I get to spend Mothers Day with some pretty special people, we also met for the first time Rob and Alyssa's new niece, Carla Corinne, who seemed pretty mellow as her Auntie Alyssa held her in the photo above.

Carla's grandparents, Corinne and Lou, make grandparenting look easy above. Enjoying the miracle of a new little life and a sweet baby to love, Lou couldn't have put it better. "My cup runneth over," he said. I know, Lou - mine too :)

Mothers Day at the Wagner beach house in Aptos. I could take in this view all day - and pretty much did! The sun was low in the sky and beginning to set when we gathered our things and headed back "over the hill" for home.

But Mothers Day - at least the "times two" part - wasn't quite over yet because the next morning - about 5:30 to be exact - I headed south to Long Beach. A six-and-a-half-hour drive? No problem. With the "Sensational Stromberg Sisters" waiting at the other end, my car has wings that fly the distance in no time. Above, Gracie contemplates a small handful of clay.

Miss Emily Mae, 5 weeks old, has already grown so much...she and her mommy enjoyed the sunny afternoon outside.

Gracie with a bow barely clinging to the back of her hair decides that teeny tiny pieces of clay stick really good to a girl's bangs and certainly enhance the hairstyle! (Click on the photo for a larger view of the mini-glam.) Later, a chunk got stuck in her teeth (well, when you are 22 months old, you really need to see how these things taste, right?).

Emily Mae listening attentively to her mommy. Ashley had best enjoy it now while she has Emily's attention. Because we ALL know what it'll be like in a few short years...

Gracie having fun in her playroom. Since Emily and Gracie share a room for sleeping, Ashley and Jim have set up the small bedroom in front for the girls to play in. Emily isn't quite sure yet what "play" entails - but her big sister will show her the ropes before too long.

Emily Mae - in a talkative mood. Not sure what she was saying to her mother here, but it was undoubtedly profound. Probably went something like this, "...and when I'm 16 I want a car and my own bathroom and a cell phone with unlimited minutes and..."

So Mothers Day Times Two came to a close on Thursday morning - 5:30am - when I left the sleeping Strombergs and pointed my vehicle north to return home. Until next time.

Mothers Day - then and now - it doesn't get much better than that!

Flashback Friday: Going to the dogs

Above is a picture of me with my first dog, Smoky, a little Cocker Spaniel. Smoky came about because of my affection for my cousin's terrier, Jerry, shown with me below while I was taking a thumb break. Jerry was actually a girl, but apparently nobody knew it for awhile. No. Don't ask...

And please don't ask about the red suspenders. Surely there was a story there, but since there is no one left to ask, that story will be forever unknown - but they do go nicely, don't you think, with the red nail polish that my mother apparently let me wear for this special photo op.

"Going to the dogs" doesn't refer to the fact that it is already Saturday morning and I am just now doing my "Flashback Friday" post. Although that DOES seem to be happening more frequently. Say it with me now, "LET'S GET ORGANIZED!!" Well, that may never happen, so instead I will get to the flashback sequence for this week.

There is a romantic ballad (Julio Iglesias and Willie Nelson both sang it, I think) about "All the Girls I have Known." On a less romantic note but just as poignant (to my way of thinking) are All the DOGS I have known...

This recollection was prompted by having a pack of dogs here at Casa Hammond for the past week. Well, OK, not a "pack" literally, but going from one blind dog and one blind dog plus a live wire dog was certainly an energetic experience. We enjoyed watching Rob and Alyssa's Buddy while they were in Mexico. Mr. H. and I are most definitely of the "dog people" persuasion.

So now on to the flashback. One reason I loved visiting my aunt and uncle when I was a little girl back in Colorado was their dog Jerry. As you can see by the picture, we were pals. I liked to lay on the floor next to Jerry and feel her warm little sausage body pressed up next to me. Back in those days people had rugs (no wall-to-wall carpeting yet) that were large and flower-filled. I pretended I was laying in a garden with Jerry - especially on cold, snow-bound Colorado days. I begged and begged and begged my parents to get me a dog of my own. And then one Christmas...

I wish I could lay my hands on the picture of Smoky in my Christmas stocking, but it is temporarily hiding. Yes, my wish came true and suddenly I had a dog of my very own. A little black Cocker Spaniel puppy that we named Smoky.

The significance of this is that my mother didn't like dogs. Couldn't stand them. And nobody knows why, but that was the deal. Unfortunately, I wasn't quite old enough to take care of a dog other than to give it lots of hugs, so my mother was forced to deal with the day-to-day maintenance. Given the clean-up detail and the fact that Smoky - when he grew bigger - would run and jump on me and knock me flat, one day Smoky just was no more.

Something told me not to ask what had happened to Smoky. It was one of those things you didn't get into with my mother. I didn't ask and nobody was talking. So I lost my beloved dog when he was still quite young. And so was I. I just hope he found a good family and had a nice life. But that was the end of dogs for me - until I was 25 and Mr. H. gave me for Christmas a teeny little pup (a miniature"wiener dog") that I named Sam.

Flashback Friday: Hooray for Hollywood and Highschool Senior Trips

Yet again, Flashback Friday has lagged into Saturday. However, what occurred on Friday became fodder for this week’s flashback.

Yesterday, yes that was Friday, I returned from Long Beach to my home in Morgan Hill. Driving in mid morning Southern California traffic, I was missing my little granddaughters, Gracie and Emily, and thinking of Ashley and Jim and their new life’s path they were about to begin with these sweet little girls.

It was a beautiful spring morning so typical of LA, and I’d decided to take an alternate route out of the Southern California metro area since many of the LA freeways were packed, unless it’s o'dark-thirty in the morning. Therefore, I was driving the 101 through downtown LA rather than risk languishing indefinitely on the over-burdened parking lot also known as the 405 (or San Diego) freeway.

This alternative route, winding through downtown LA and finally to Hollywood, afforded views of the "Hollywood" sign to my right and the Capitol Records building to the left, providing a rare visual opportunity to remember and reflect upon the time that was, for me, a major turning point in my young life.

In June 1965, my best friend, Toni Just, and I had just graduated from Central High School in Pueblo, Colorado and were preparing for our “senior trip” (actually there was no such thing in those days so we just developed one on our own). We’d saved up some money and booked a trip to California. Neither of us had flown before, so this trip was a BIG DEAL. Dressed to the hilt (yes, people actually dressed up to fly in those days), we boarded a small prop jet at the Pueblo airport and off we flew on our connecting flight to Denver.

Toni wanted to be a flight attendant (“stewardess” back in the day) so she was super excited to finally fly. I, on the other hand, was a bit more apprehensive. Upon take-off, future flight attendant Toni had her head in the barf bag while I, Miss Fraidy-Pants, kept yelling, “Look-Look-Look” out the window for approximately the entire trip. Toni got her bearings back in Denver and felt a little better. This was fortuitous because we were about to board a United Airlines flight for Los Angeles.

When we arrived at LAX we were delighted to see “up close and personal” the famous open rounded sculpture that houses the Encounter Restaurant on the airport property. Toni’s cousin Paulette and her new husband, Ray, who lived in a small apartment in Pasadena, met us at the airport. Toni and I were thrilled to be staying with her young (and to us, awesomely hip) cousins.

From Ray and Paulettes, we could walk to all kinds of neat spots – including an Orange Julius stand that became our favorite haunt in the lazy late afternoons while we waited for Ray and Paulette to return from work. The Orange Julius was a true “California drink” to us…this concoction originated in Los Angeles in 1926 – long before we were born, but its creamy yumminess had not yet reached our hometown in Colorado. Orange Julius was the perfect counterbalance to those warm summer afternoons.

But the locales we could not WAIT to visit were the BEACHES. And Southern California is lousy with beaches. Almost on a daily basis, Toni and I grabbed our beach towels, our secret concoction of tanning fluid (baby oil, iodine and vinegar - yes, we smelled like salads AND hospitals) and marveled at the sight as waves rushed in, covering us in a teenage ecstasy of living the good life.

I'd seen palm trees before - but not like these. They grew EVERYWHERE. Right down to the beaches. Yep - this was indeed Utopia and we'd landed square in the middle of it!

While we were in Southern California enjoying our new “grown-up” (in our minds) post-graduation status, we visited wondrous places. We strolled down Hollywood Boulevard and stood at the intersection of Hollywood and Vine. We shopped at the famously naughty Fredericks of Hollywood where we both bought (rather tame) bikinis that we wore on our numerous trips to the beach.
My bikini was a bright neon lime green and had white cotton lace ruffles on it. I thought it was PERFECT with my new California tan. We were a bit surprised that the famous (infamous?) Frederick's of Hollywood seemed a little, well...seedy to us given that we'd ooh'd and aah'd over its sexy photos in our Photoplay magazines. Also, there were some pretty weird sights on Hollywood Boulevard...but we chose to gloss over the randomly unsavory side of the place.

I was fascinated by the lush plant life in Southern California and told everyone I knew about the vines of ivy growing right across the freeway overpasses. (The freeways were graffiti-free in those days and whoever'd heard of a gang?!) In their new Mustang with Ray at the wheel and Paulette nestled up close to his side, we sped by the famous Hollywood sign high up in the hills and the iconic Capital Records building. Everything was surreal on that perfect summer “Senior Trip.”

Later we traveled to San Diego to stay with Toni’s aunt Jean where we burned to a crisp on Pacific Beach. We were so sunburned that we alarmed Toni’s aunt to the point she was about to drag us to the hospital. But with Jean's ever-present ice packs, we recovered and peeled and had a great time tooling around San Diego with Toni’s fun aunt Jean in her new black Ford Thunderbird. For dinner one evening, Jean introduced us to an exotic new food – broiled swordfish. Living so close to the ocean it was natural to serve seafood on a routine basis. Toni and I were raised in an area famous for its rainbow trout, which were WAY less exotic than the succulent swordfish.

It was a perfect summer trip for two best girlfriends at the end of their high school careers.

While we were in California, I learned that my dad’s place of business, the Pueblo Army Depot, was closing and he and my mother had decided to sell our house and move to Arizona.

Thus ended my childhood. With one phone call, I knew things were forever changed. I also knew I wasn’t cut out for Arizona, but this glamorous state Golden State with its beaches and lushly landscaped homes, movie stars and recording artists, warm weather and webs of freeways was already feeling like home.

So traveling through LA yesterday, for a few moments it felt like 1965 again as I raced by the old sign in the hills of Hollywood and the jutting spherical architecture of Capitol Records. I didn’t know it then, back in 1965, but those iconic emblems of California were, truly, calling me home.

Flashback Friday: Those Fabulous Nursing Follies and Other Taboo Topics

This is one of the oldest photographs of me where you can actually see any detail...back in the "olden days," consumer cameras lacked the sophistication to facilitate blow-ups and detailed close-ups like we've grown accustomed to today. So eventually my parents hauled me down to the local photo studio for a "formal portrait." Color wasn't used much, but if the clients wanted "color portraits" the black and white prints were lightly painted in with pastels. Sometimes the look was quite nice; other attempts could be quite garrish. My "color portrait" is out there somewhere - probably packed away somewhere. But this image, taken many moons ago, is me at about 9 months old.

Skip ahead a generation. This is Ashley at one week sleeping away in her crib. She was born on one of the few "snow" days in San Jose. Her daddy and I were marooned in the Santa Cruz mountains, which was where our first home was located. We were snowed in and I was in labor. Mr. H. was running about boiling water and frantically hollering, "I don't know nothin' about birthin' no babies, Miz Scarlett!" Well, that's an exaggeration, but I do believe he was getting a little nervous about having a wife in labor as the snow was falling all around us.

Yes, that is indeed a thumb in the mouth of Miss Emily Mae. At one week of age, on April 15, while "Mimi" was holding her she began the search. Dragging her fingers over her face and (now and then) into her eyes, she at last settled on that all-important digit and began sucking for all she was worth. She even managed to locate her thumb a second time when it became dislodged. But when the phone rang a few minutes later she was startled by the noise; her thumb popped out and she was unable to locate it again.

Now the reason Miss Emily was in desperate straits searching for sustenance from her thumb was that her mommy was otherwise occupied. Emily is in that early phase where L-I-F-E means feeding, feeding, feeding. She was searching wildly for her mommy and instead found her thumb a convenient substitute. Reports from Ashley are that occasionally at night feedings even when her mommy is located immediately nearby, Emily will search frantically trying to locate the desired target. Making all sorts of strange and crazy sounds, Ashley says that as Emily is grunting and rooting around attempting to latch on that she sounds like a "pack of wild pigs."

Any currently or previously nursing mom will relate. The feeding instinct is strong and urgent and a food source had better be handy! When Ashley was born I was unable to move too far from her because it wouldn't be long before she was ready to be fed. When I developed a serious case of cabin fever after her birth, her daddy and I tried an outing to a nearby restaurant. I'd no sooner settled into the booth and Ashley wanted food! Cleverly concealing Ashley with a blanket I let her nurse. We were situated in a booth near the back and I had my back to the other diners so I hoped to nurse in privacy. But that was not to be.

A lady at a nearby booth bounded over to where we were sitting and said something to the effect of, "Oh! A new baby! Can I see her?" Well. The other thing about nursing babies is once they have "latched on" they are not eager to be pulled away. I swear you could hear reverberating through that entire restaurant the "pop" that issued forth as I wrenched her loose so I could show off my baby girl. Now, I strongly DO NOT recommend doing this. Ashley was not a happy camper for this abrupt disruption of her feeding and proceeded to scream like a banshee. I felt terrible and had I been a little more mature, I would have explained that my baby was feeding and I'd be glad to bring her over in a few minutes. That's what you call learning the hard way!!!

These days, modern mothers are pumping their milk for baby's future feeding. Working moms can return to their jobs secure in knowing that many meals are safely stored away in the freezer to be pulled out and given to baby later on. So Ashley has begun the pumping process again in preparation for returning to her job in a few weeks. Now, the pumps are a sort of cross between a mid-evil torture device and official dairy farm apparatus. Ashley had just begun to pump last evening, sitting on the bed all hooked up to suction cups and hoses, when 21-month old Gracie came bounding into her room to see what was cooking. She was happy to see her mom, but was undoubtedly wondering, "What the HEY??!!!" was going on with all that hardware! Bounding over the bed, she tripped over a hose, which pulled things loose. Ashley, who in her words was at "high tide" at that moment tried to keep her composure as milk went shooting off in every direction. Therefore, when "Mimi" came in a moment later to rescue Ashley, Gracie was VERY HAPPY to leave with Mimi and go color for a little while. My guess is with, you know, a few years of therapy, Gracie is going to be JUST FINE :)

I'm happy that mommies are nursing their babies successfully these days. When I asked my own mom about her experience nursing me, she said she pretty much didn't because she "wasn't very good at it." That's too bad because my own experience feeding my two baby girls was great - after the experience I described above. Nature's best is a great way to go. I always said I had enough milk to feed half the population of San Jose! I was blessed with a bountiful "harvest," and it's a wonderful way for mommy and baby to bond - for life!

Flashback Friday: Columns are Taxing

Today I am doing a "2-fer" - because it's "Flashback Friday" day AND a column day, I thought this time they might work nicely together. Since we are at 12 days and counting until the tax deadline, my column this week was timed appropriately for tax season.

I decided to write this week about tax deductions. You know how you are tempted to save every receipt that crosses your path during the year on the slight chance that it might be deductible? Like if you just wish hard enough, that cute pair of shoes might be a deduction? Yes, we wish. And hope. And then we finally toss away that big old box of receipts because - darn it - those tax forms just don't leave you much wiggle room.

But that doesn't mean you can't still TRY to finagle and finesse a few "grey" areas, right? (Well, Mr. H. would say "No" but I'm not such a "black and white" kinda girl.) So I thought it'd be fun to see if we couldn't approach tax deductions with a little humor, i.e. Can I deduct my cat?, which as it happens, is the title for this week's column.

So why does this post qualify as a Flashback? Ok, I am getting to that. Over the past 3-1/2 years that I've written my column, the question I'm most often asked is "How do you think of all the stuff you write about?" Since I've written close to 200 columns in all, that IS a lot of subjects, it's true. But the subject isn't always the thing. Sometimes I've got a subject - it's finding 800 words to say on the subject that gets challenging. For example: my most recent column that published today. I knew I wanted to write about taxes and deductions, but my mind was already in Long Beach, thinking about the pending arrival of Baby Emily. So I had to keep pulling my mind back to what I was doing, writing my column. This happens frequently. Life can get in the way of a column, which is (ironically) what my columns are about: Life. Weird, I know.

Another question I get asked a lot is how do I keep the columns funny? (I'm usually just happy to hear that people do indeed think they ARE funny!) When I began writing for the Morgan Hill Times, it was (another twist of irony) at a very "unfunny" time. We had just put our 17-year old dog, Lucky, down. And I had to write a funny column by deadline. As hard as it was to write humorously during those first few weeks when my emotions were so raw, in a crazy way it turned out to be good therapy.

So today, in addition to posting this week's column about taxes, I'm also going to post one of my earliest columns - it was the second one I wrote, published November 1, 2005. We had taken on The Home Rennovation Project from Hell - refinishing the family fireplace. To see "Is My Cat Deductible?" and my earlier column, "The Horrors of Home Renovation," click right here: http://www.mushroom-city-memoirs-the-column.blogspot.com/. Happy reading :)

Flashback Friday: Family Fun

Wading in the cold, cold water in Colorado. My cousin, Alene Woodhouse Starkey is on the right. I'm the little blondie on the left, holding onto my stuffed dog, "Pinkie."

Here we are again in 1969, enjoying a little liquid refreshment at my Uncle Bernard's house in Pueblo, Colorado. Can you say, "PLAID PANTS???" Yep, we were stylin' and if weren't careful, those plaids could knock your eyes out. And check out that super-large console TV in the background..TVs were major furniture back in the day...

Jump ahead - Whoa! 35 years - to 2004! Whew! - That was a BIG jump!! Still got a thing for those cold, blue waters in the Colorado mountains. My cousin stayed true to her "roots," although as you might have noticed, my "roots" migrated from blonde to brunette back to blonde again. Oh, well. Beats what's underneath, I'm sure!!
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Tonight Mr. H. and I are going to dinner with Rob and Alyssa and Rob's parents, Lou and Corinne, at Il Fornaio - a yummy Italian restaurant in downtown San Jose. I feel very lucky to have enlarged our family in September of 2006 to include these wonderful new friends and super son-in-law - who now all seem like family. And how lucky is that!!! So what does all this have to do with this week's flashback? Ok, I'm getting to that!

Family has always been super important to me. I was so fortunate to grow up close - both in proximity and otherwise - to my mother's family - my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, their spouses and children. Closest to me of all was my cousin, Alene, who was (and still is if she's admitting to it these days!) 7 years my senior. She was a very cool older cousin, dragging me around with her to do all sorts of fun things. She was something of a tomboy, as was I, although she had me beat in tree-climbing, catching bugs and crawdads, hanging by her knees on the jungle-gym and other admirable accomplishments.

I'm looking forward to the relationship Ashley and Jim's little ones (Gracie and as I write this, baby-to-be-born-soon-Emily) will have with their cousins someday when Rob and Alyssa expand their little family from their furry baby, Buddy, to babies of the other variety - you know, the kind that eat, throw up and poop, etc. Wait. Come to think of it, Buddy does all that, too. Oh, well, never mind!

So my hope for my daughters and their guys is that someday their little ones will enjoy the special bond of cousins. Since my cousin and I never had a sister, we felt connected in much the same way as I'm sure sisters do...I guess you might call us Sisters of the Heart.

Flashback Friday: POTUS

Another "Flashback Friday," and here is a little story of the past and the present and the "POTUS" (President of the United States). President Barack Obama was visiting southern California yesterday and I (teasingly) asked Ashley if she had seen him while he was out and about in "LaLa Land." She said, no, BUT! Yesterday on her way home from work, she DID see the new president as he was aboard Marine One - the official helicopter of the president, escorted by four more identical helicopters as the president made his way from the Long Beach airport where he landed on Air Force One - the giant 747 and official aircraft of the president. So, not that Ashley technically "saw" President Obama but she certainly saw the large convoy of marine helicopters carrying him to his scheduled meeting place.

Marine One, as well as the other large Marine helicopters, are built by Sikorsky Aircraft (a division of United Technologies where Ralph worked for 33 years and I worked for seven)although a controversial change is on the horizon. Lockheed Martin, in 2005, won the contract to redesign and manufacture the 28 helicopters composing the Marine One fleet at a cost of $6.1 - approximately $4.1 million over budget. Oops!!!!!

(Ok, kids: Can you say 'R-E-C-E-S-S-I-O-N'???)

And I am finally coming around to the "Flashback Friday" aspect...I know, this is me making a short story long...On August 17, 1962, I had the tremendous honor of meeting President John Fitzgerald Kennedy when he arrived in my hometown of Pueblo, Colorado, to dedicate a water project known as the FryingPan-Arkansas Project, developed to benefit the citizens of Southeastern Colorado. In his speech, President Kennedy said, in part, "This (project) is an investment in the future of this country, an investment that will repay large dividends. It is an investment in the growth of the West, in the new cities and industries which this project helps make possible." Some 45 years later, the "Fry-Ark" project has been a success in bringing water not only to the agricultural communities but to private homes in the Pueblo-Colorado Springs area.

No, I wasn't taking notes during his speech (I looked this up) - instead I was focused on the vision of a great and powerful man. I was drawn to the above picture of JFK when doing this post because from where I was sitting on that hot August day in 1962, this was approximately my view. I could have almost reached out and touched him. He was speaking at a podium on the highschool football field; we were seated in rows a mere few feet in front of him. We were "special guests" - part of a highschool group of kids that performed throughout the state to promote the Colorado State Fair in Pueblo. The group was an off-shoot of the Chamber of Commerce, and I was 16 years old.

There was something about President Kennedy that, when you saw him, you knew that here, indeed, was a great man. A year and a half later, when he was assassinated, it was if something extremely special and rare had been taken from us. It's often been said that the death of President Kennedy was the end of the innocence; the end of Camelot. I would agree that this is so.

Flashback Friday - one day late!

When Daughter #2 (Alyssa) began Flashback Fridays on her blog a week ago, I loved the idea so much that I am totally swiping it for my blog! The premise of Flashback Fridays is that most of life happened 'B.B.' (before blogging), so Flashback Fridays exist to recount a life event out of the past. Since my foggy brain neglected to remind me that yesterday was, indeed Friday, and therefore a perfect Flashback Friday opportunity, I'm going to "pretend" that it's still Friday...and hey! Maybe it still is - somewhere - although I sorta doubt it :)

So here is my flashback of the week...I found this very old newspaper ad while doing research for my next column. The department store, Roos/Atkins went out of business in the 80s, but in their hay day they had some pretty upscale outfits and I LOVED buying my work clothes there (well, some of them). Not that I could necessarily afford them on my paltry secretary's salary, but still. I stumbled upon the ad because I had a senior moment in recalling the unique spelling of the store's name. I knew that "Roos" didn't have an "e" at the end. But when I typed Roos Atkins - it didn't look right. Thus the Internet search and - Voila. Roos/Atkins had that intriguing little "slash" right through the center of its name. The ad is from an August 1966 issue of the Oakland Tribune. I'd been a California resident a year when the ad ran - I was a mere lass of 19 at the time :)

Note the sweaters were retailing for $50 - pretty pricey for a 1966 salary...another interesting point is the sizing: Sizes available were 8 to 16, or 10 to 16. Not a Size "1" or worse "0" in sight! To see the detail of the ad, click on the photo. Or go see it here:

http://bigmallrat.blogspot.com/2007/11/vintage-advertisement-roosatkins.html It's a little walk down memory lane!