Thank Goodness... I'm not

For this week’s TAKE THIS TUNE, Jamie has chosen a tune by Ray Stevens titled: I Am My Own Grandpa. Ray Stevens has done a long list of silly/parody songs… this one included. And I do like his musical comedy. Personally, my favorite is “Mississippi Squirrel Revival” – along with the video (cute kids).

This brought me back to what I was investigating when I stopped blogging back in August or September. I never knew either of my grandfathers very well. My father was a mystery to me as well. I spent a lot of time investigating what made them tick. Well, I may not have figured that out, but I think I understand my father and his father better for having done the investigating.


My father’s father (Grandpa Johnson) passed away suddenly of a heart attack when I was about 8 years old. I thought I should cry over it, but never really did. I learned a lot about him through a journal that my Aunt Micky (dad’s much younger sister) kept… actually, my inquiries prodded her to begin her writing again. The following is the last piece that she sent me. She is almost 90 years old and I have left it as she wrote it. Todd School for Boys was the academia and Camp Tosebo was the summer boys camp associated with the school.

TODD SCHOOL POLITICS

This all happened before I was born but they are stories that have been told in the family. My father, A E Johnson, came to Todd as a teacher after he graduated from Hiram College. When he married he was given West Cottage where my brother and sister were born. When the then headmaster left, the family was moved to the headmaster’s cottage and Dad took the duties as headmaster.

At one point Dad left for a year to find a new position. However he was lured back with the promise that he would run the school after Noble Hill retired. That promise was never fulfilled and my mother was very bitter about it

During this time Noble Hill’s son Roger attended the University of Illinois and married Hortence Gettys. My humble opinion is that had her eye on the school. Anyhow, when Noble Hill retired the school went to Roger and Camp Tosebo went to Noble’s daughter Carol. Roger did not yet have his degree so Dad had to sign official papers.

As far as A E Johnson’s presence at Tosebo, early in his career at Todd, he was given the choice of recruiting students or being on the staff of the new camp. We are all glad that he chose the camp.

As a young boy Orson Welles came as a student and became like a son to Roger Hill. Orson considered himself a genius and had some effect on the activities at Todd. There was a greater emphasis on dramatics.

Dad kept up the academic standards quietly. This side did not get the publicity that the dramas and athletics did. Dad also taught the printing. He also helped with the building of the stage coach and the barn for the horses.

I feel a little unhappy and cheated that my father’s memory seems to be forgotten in history of Todd School.

~Mildred Johnson Thomas~

My father passed away in 2002 at the age of 90. He had Alzheimers. He was a strict father and was closed to people on the emotional level. At some point I thought it might have been because my sister and I were adopted. He was closed emotionally to my children also. But when the disease set in and the great grandchildren came along, he had such a big loving heart I couldn’t believe it was the same man -- there were much less of the prior emotional inhabitions. That love had been hiding inside all along. In hindsight, I believe that he was never shown or taught to show his emotions. Men NEED to do this as well as do women.

I am still sad that I didn’t know these men better – that I didn’t see inside their hearts, and brains – before they passed into a brighter light.

So I tell those who matter that I love them... and I tell them as often as possible.

Thanks for stopping by... you have a great day and I will too.

Some disjointed thoughts on a SEPTEMBER SONG

When I saw Jamie’s prompt, I said to myself, “Self, just what are we going to write about this?”
Happy Labor Day. May you be able to rest on your vocational laurels for these 24 hours. It’s a shame that our holidays are no longer what they used to be. I would LOVE to hear that WalMart closed its doors for 24 hours straight – or that any and all other stores did the same for that matter. I have a lot of respect for those small operations that actually do respect our formerly time-honored tradition of actually taking a holiday from work.

So, if it’s Labor Day, it must be September. Being from New England, this IS my time of year. This is the color and smells and glory of another year dying into winter.

People say that because I live in California, we don’t experience the seasons. I say this is not quite correct. Our daily temperatures drop from what can be a suffocating 100* to being a bone chilling 50*. At night, we do have frost and freezing temps. Perhaps we don’t have snow here, but I can travel less than an hour to see it, walk in it, make a snowball and throw it at something or someone. Our summer does melt into an autumn-like melancholy and then into the winter doldrums. I do get cabin fever.

And, each year I wonder to myself if it is time to write my September Song. I must consider that putting together a very loose family history does have to take place as a start to this song. Have I finally reached that point in my life where it’s all downhill from here. Well, rationally, I know that happened a few years ago. But am I really going to accept that fact? I try not to stare my own mortality in the face often.

I got to this point in my posting and thought, I don’t want to write about my mortality. I know it’s there… not too much I can do about that.

It was then I remembered a wonderful series that was aired on PBS a while ago. Victor Borge was a very accomplished Danish pianist and quite adeptly mingled humor into his concerts. This is my contribution to September Song for 2009.

I hope you enjoy a little smile with these two talented muscians. To see more September Song contributions visit TAKE THIS TUNE.

Thanks for stopping by...

Did I mention that my thoughts would be a bit scattered?

TAKE THIS TUNE... Life is a Highway

Saturday morning, I got a little nudge from Jamie, who created Take This Tune... “You might enjoy doing this week's Take This Tune.” It is difficult for me to get back to the discipline of blogging with my mind still going in a thousand different directions. FYI, I truly enjoy the music of Rascal Flats and love the movie “CARS.”

Last summer I did drive cross-country and back for the sixth and seventh times in my life. I cannot begin to count the times I have flown from coast to coast. A friend in Massachusetts remarked one time that she always thought I had a wanderlust-type spirit. As I discussed in one of my posts (June 29, 2009), I have actually stepped foot (or car tires have touched ground) in 42 of our 50 states. I have actually lived in only five of them (California, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, North Carolina and Connecticut). Then there are all the places we have visited in our cruising life… the Bahamas, Antigua, Dominica, Barbados, St Thomas, St Kitts, St Maarten, Puerto Rico, Jamaica, Grand Cayman, Cozumel, Puerto Vallarta, Acapulco, Costa Rica, Guatemala, Panama, and Columbia. I think that pretty much covers most of the ports. We may be adding more in the near future. I never in my life thought I would own a passport, say nothing of travel outside of the USA -- except for Canada.

However, this summer my highway travel has been a tad different. It involves travels of the mind… to discover more about who and why I am who I am.

The wordy 1940’s brochure and the not-so-wordy 1950’s brochure about the summer camp my dad attended (and my grandfather had a hand in running) is finished. I spent hours looking at the poorly scanned pages under a magnifying glass (program) so I could make sense of the words. Then I printed out the 50 pages, incorporated what I figured out to be the printed words, made double-sided copies and placed the pages into report covers. I made 6 copies of this. My aunt (dad’s sister) sent me a collection of thoughts she had written during the years – mostly about Camp Tosebo. I have put them into Word and added appropriate pictures (if I have them). That needs to be copied and put into the report cover. There will be chapters with pictures on Todd School, Camp Tosebo and my memories of life with Dad – all interspersed with pictures and emails received from the still-living relatives. When it’s done, I believe I will have written my first book. I would love this project to be done and sent out for Christmas. This may be an unrealistic deadline as I have much more soul-searching and writing to do. At least I will have most of it done – the easy stuff. The things already written that only need to be organized.

I have been knitting and crocheting several things for the grandkids. I finally found a pattern for an ear-flap hat that seem to be popular with the kids these days, which I can make with some ease. I have also been making jewelry for Christmas gifts. This is not real high class stuff, just things I think will be neat for early teen boys and my 9 year old granddaughter. Now, if I were really ambitious, I would work on fixing my camera so that I could take pictures of all this.** That means finding the instruction book and reading it. These craft sessions also provide me with “thought time.” Some of these thoughts actually find their way to the printed page.

Two weeks ago, I was handed a gift from a friend – she had no idea. It is a book that I read very quickly back in 2000… UP ISLAND by Anne Rivers Siddons. It is taking me back through the early emotions of my divorce that occurred circa 1981-82. The emotions lasted a much longer time. The healing of the main character takes place on Martha’s Vineyard. I actually visited that island for one long Columbus Day weekend. It was a wonderful weekend and the book is allowing me to relive some of that wonder. Of course back then I didn’t take many pictures. Darn! I need to fix that camera!** I am enjoying this highway also.

So many highways to travel, so little time… BIG sigh.

** OK… so here’s the scoop on the camera. There was no LCD display picture. I could see the picture after it was taken but not before. I now know what the DISP button means – push it once, no picture; push it again, viola! The picture returns. Do I feel a little dumb?? YES!!! Hubby is being very smart, “I won’t comment on it! Nope, not saying a thing.” I’ll post pictures tomorrow of some of my creations. For now, I am going to a corner and licking my wounds. I may even watch this video again.

Thanks for stopping by... have a great week.