New Year's Traditions

     New Year's Eve was always a fun holiday growing up.  As a child it was a treat to stay up until midnight.  It felt like it took forever for the midnight hour arrive to watch Dick Clark count down the seconds and ring in the new year.  There was something dazzling about ringing in the new year.  It was a new start on the way I wanted my life to go.  What would happen?  What news events would grace our TV?  What changes would come our way?  It was a mystery waiting to be discovered.

     My mom would fix up snacks for the night.  Mostly it would contain a cheese roll, crackers, popcorn, Kool-Aid, and for the brand new year a glass of wine.  Just a glass.  We would sit around watching movies or playing board games such as RISK or Monopoly.  The TV would be on in the background and my mom would soon let us know the new year was upon us as she would give a 15 minute warning.  Our eyes would be glued to Dick Clark and the hullaballoo going on in New York City.  My brother, sister and I would talk about how much fun it would be to go there in person, being part of that crowd and watching the ball fall.  I still hope.

     There was one time when we missed watching Dick Clark growing up.  My mom was dating someone and we traveled to Holland, Michigan to celebrate the holiday with him and his family.  In their family New Year's was an adult event.  Children were supposed to go to bed, with the TV off, by 9.  The adults stayed upstairs to ring in the new year.  We were crushed.  To miss Dick Clark was like missing Santa Claus.  I remember crying myself to sleep that year.  Even as I entered adulthood I had to watch Dick Clark.  One other time I missed Dick Clark was when I went to celebrate New Year's with my sister and her family.  It was around 11pm and I asked her to turn on Dick Clark.  She then informs me that her TV wasn't working.  I must of seemed like a deer in headlights.  NO DICK CLARK!  I was not going to settle for that.  I grabbed my IPhone to watch it from there.  My phone battery was completely dead.  I was not going to settle for not watching the ball to fall.  I found a ball and raised it up over my head.  Someone called the phone "time" number which gave the time every 10 seconds.  When the midnight hour came I dropped the ball and yelled out, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!"  It wasn't the same and I hated to miss Dick Clark but I do remember that year. My children began to look forward to seeing him count down the ball falling.  We were saddened by his death.  It was like a part of my childhood has died.  I am thankful that my older children would remember him and share in a part of my childhood tradition.  My younger children will never know.

     We would write out our New Year's resolutions.  We would lay out and compare each other's resolutions.  Mostly mine would contain better grades, to behave better (as I was a real rascal at times), lose a few pounds, and to write a story.  We would seal them up in our envelopes to be opened the next year to see if we fulfilled our resolutions.  Most of the time we would forget about them in two weeks.   It was more than just wishes on our life.  It was a plan for our life; a direction in which we wanted to go.  It was a path to take into the new year.  It was a chance to take a breath in our chaotic lives and to begin fresh again.

     After the ball would fall we would tap our wine glasses together and sip our wine.  It always made a funny butterfly feeling in my belly.  We were only allowed one glass.  The phone would ring and it would be Nonnie and Grandpa (my mom's parents) wishing us a happy New Year.  We ran into the hall way where our phone was located attached on the wall.  We would happily share with them the fun activities we did and tell them about what we watched on TV.  We would try to stretch the phone cord into the living room so we can continue to see the commotion going on in New York City. 

     We would finally pass the phone to mom and us siblings would watch the TV together.  Then as if a switch was flipped on inside of us we all started running around trying to see who can do what first in the new year. 

     "I was the first to pet the cat!"  Marc would shout.
     "I was the first to open the front door!"  Yelled Lisa.
     "I was the first to turn the light on and off!"  I would bellow.

     We ran all over the house being the first.  We were even proud of being the first to use the toilet.  We would run to mom, who was still on the phone, as if it were a race to be the first to give her a hug and a kiss.  Everything was new again.  It was, after all, a whole new year.

     And then it was over.  The new year was beginning.  There was no going back.  It is what it is.  The year was young and unfamiliar.  It was guaranteed that changes will take place but we didn't know what they would be or when.  It was an exciting time.  It still is.  The memories that grow in my heart and stay with me in my mind are held dear to me.  Each new year is a new journey.  It's a new chapter in my life.  The page continues to turn....
    

Terror Of The Great Pumpkin

     Growing up in the late 1970's and early 1980's there was one show everyone looked forward to watching around Halloween and that was "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown."  This was a time before VCR's became popular and DVD's/DVR's were unheard of.  Having cable was rare as majority of American's still watched 3 to 4 stations on TV.  There was only one time to watch "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" and that was a special on one of the local stations.  If a person ended up missing the show they had to wait until next year to view it.  Families would invite other families over to watch it, pop up some popcorn, stir up some Kool-Aid and settle in to watch it. 

   

     Everyone knew the story behind the Great Pumpkin.  The Great Pumpkin is supposed to rise up from a pumpkin patch bringing toys to children who believed in him.  Linus tried desperately to have his pumpkin patch be the chosen patch for the Great Pumpkin to visit.  Sadly, he misses out on Halloween and the Great Pumpkin never did visit his patch.  I think as children we anticipated the Great Pumpkin coming to Linus' pumpkin patch to fulfill his belief's on the Great Pumpkin even though we really knew what the ending would be.

     I must of been around 4 years old.  That would be the Halloween of 1981.  My mom was putting up Halloween decorations around the house while my siblings were at school.  I was in the bathtub happily splashing about without a care to the world.  Suddenly I hear a sound coming from the opened bathroom door, "Hello sweetie, It's the Great Pumpkin."  the voice said in eerie tone.  Walking through the door was this squatty jack-o-lantern with an evil grin.  The eyes were midnight black triangles that were beaming right into my soul.  The pumpkin had green ivy curled up around the brown stem on top.  There was nothing friendly about this jack-o-lantern.

     I screamed in terror.  If the neighbors could of heard me they would of thought I was being hacked to death.  I tried to shimmy up the side of the bathtub to distance myself from the horror that was before my young eyes. 

     My mother, who was crouched behind our front door, heavy plastic, jack-o-lantern decoration, was trying to have fun and really did not expect the reaction that I gave.  She must of thought I was only startled as she continued on with her Great Pumpkin escapade.  "Jill, it is me.  I am the Great Pumpkin.  You don't need to be afraid of me."  she says with a tone still eerie to young ears.  She waddled behind the pumpkin right up to the edge of the tub. 

     I shrieked in freight.  Tears were pouring from my eyes.  My back was up against the wall of the tub and I couldn't escape.  I was stuck there with this evil pumpkin face staring back at me.   My mom must of realized that I really wasn't enjoying the whole Great Pumpkin visiting me during my bath time idea she had of hers.  She popped out from behind the Great Pumpkin to show me it was her behind it.  I was shaking, cold and wet.  My mom left the room with the great pumpkin and came back to help me out of the tub.  She showed me that it was a decoration up on the door and there wasn't anything to be afraid of.  She told me the jack-o-lantern is happy and smiling.  I thought it was more of a maniacal evil grin.  As an adult I can see there is nothing to fear but as a 4 year old little girl I just seen that jack-o-lantern come to life. 

Tennis Meditation

     We all have those special things in our lives that we all take pleasure in doing.  I remember the my grandmother (that would be my mom's mom) would have her morning coffee and cigarette she would also play a game of solitaire.  That was her time to sit and ponder about the day that lay ahead.  It was her moment of being tranquil with herself.  My brother would go outside from sun up to what it seemed as sun down and shoot hoops in the driveway with the jambox shouting out the sounds of Beastie Boys or Run DMC.  My sister preferred things a bit quieter by painting ceramics while watching the latest soap opera on TV.  When I was in junior high my serene moment came from playing tennis out in the back yard.

     I couldn't wait until the spring air melted most of the winter snow away.  If the weather was nice enough I would shovel off the back patio to clear away the snow and remove the wet, soggy leaves that nestled in near the back of the garage from the previous autumn.  Our garage was attached to our light yellow house in Saginaw.  Behind the garage laid a sun-faded red and white checked board style patio.   Two wooden black birds were nailed to the siding forever posed in flight.  To me they were targets waiting to be wacked over and over with a tennis ball as I learned to control where I send the ball after I hit it with the racquet.  If my brother didn't take over the jambox for his music then I would sneak it outside for my tunes of Bell Biv Devoe or Milli Vanilli  It didn't matter much to me because my brother and I did have similar taste in music.  If the music was pumped up with loud bass we were happy. 

     Feeling the warm sun upon my face I would slowly unzip the black jacket of my racquet and remove my metal framed Wilson racquet.  My right hand would grip firmly around the handle as I took a few practice swings and felt the wind swish around it.  I would reach down and pick up one of the tennis balls that I brought outside with me.  Standing near the corner of the patio I would bounce the ball off the ground and tap it with my racquet.  The ball would fly up and smack against the side of the garage with a thunking sound.  The ball would bounce back onto the red and white patio squares and I would swing my arm around to hit the ball back to the side.  I would work on my swings of back hand and forward hand.  I  pretended that I was Steffi Graf, effortlessly going after the ball and hitting it back to the other side.   I had to be careful of where I sent the ball because there was a window towards the side of the garage that I didn't want to hit.  Occasionally the ball would tap into the window and I would hold my breath waiting for it to break but it never did. 

     There was something about the rhythm of the ball plunking the racquet, thunking on the siding and plopping on the ground that gave me a calming effect.   PLUNK!  THUNK!  PLOP!  PLUNK!  THUNK!  PLOP!  PLUNK!  THUNK!  PLOP!   Over and over the sounds sent me into deep thought.  My body would carry out the actions while my mind would start to analyze my frustrations, plot out the "what if's" in my life, or plan a story outline of something I wanted to write about.  Even with the music blaring in the background my thoughts came across loud and clear.  At that moment there was clarity in my life.

     My  mom knew how much I enjoyed tennis and set me up for lessons through the township.  I would walk over by Zaul Library to the tennis courts to take my lessons.  I would convince one of my friends, Keisha, to join me over at the courts to play one on one.  One time there were older teenage boys playing and they asked us to join them for playing doubles.  It was her and I against them.  I can't remember who won or lost but I can still recall giving each other a high five when they would miss the ball and we would get the score.  I even signed up on the White Pine Middle School intramural tennis team after school and did quite well with it.  

     Soon my attentions were drawn away from tennis as I got older.  We ended up moving to a new house and I didn't have my patio to practice on anymore.  I have taken my children to the tennis courts we have in town and gave them a chance to play.  They tried it but they didn't have the passion for it like I did.  There are days where I long to hold the racquet and have a good game of volleying the ball back and forth over the net, running up and down the court after the ball and feeling the force of the ball up against the racquet as I swing to hit it.  Maybe it is the carefree moments of swinging the racquet and hitting the ball up against the house that I miss.  Maybe. 

    

Will Bubbles Become The New Illegal Toy

     If we all think hard enough we can remember at least one toy in our childhood which now is blacklisted from children to play with today.  My mom would tell me that as a child her and some neighborhood friends would have competitions of rolling mercury balls down the driveway and seeing who would win.  Today, we have to turn in our mercury thermometers and exchange it for digital ones.  I understand the evils of mercury but my point is, that at a time in our history, mercury was a toy. 

     Think of the playgrounds back in yesteryears.  Remember the teeter-totter?  Now look at today's newer playgrounds.  What is missing?  The teeter-totter.  Due to our generation of giving each other cherry bombs and hopping off just to let the person on the other side come crashing down this outdoor activity is now deemed dangerous.  Kids get hurt.  This is a part of childhood.  It is learning about knowing your limits and figuring out situtations.  I even remember falling off backwards trying to do a silly stunt and having the wind knocked out of me.  It hurt.  But I got up, wiped away tears, and went back at learning to master the silly stunt I was doing. 

     Another playground item that is missing in today's playground is the merry-go-round.  You can still find these in older parks.  Kids would spin themselves sick for the fun of it.  When the child was sick enough to vomit they would stand off to the side, get sick while other kids laughed with delight, then the sick kid would hop back on for more spinning.  Again, children got hurt from time to time but it was expected.  Now the once favorite item at the parks is disappearing.

     Lawn Jarts.  Popular outdoor toy where a person has to toss this razor sharp object into a circle placed on the ground and the jart will stick into the Earth.  Sadly, a little girl died and her dad went on a crusade to have them banned.  In 1988, a full ban was in place.  You can still play the game but it has a weighted ball for a tip instead of the pointed end.  As a child I remember playing with the original jarts.  It was fun.  I recall my friend David and I, up at our cabin at Houghton Lake, would toss them up in the air real high and run out of the way before the jart hit us as gravity pulled it back towards the groud.  Looking back I realized we were being stupid with it and not realizing the dangers of it at the time but I am sure if either one of us got struck by a jart then we would then of known its dangers.  We would of pulled the jart out and continued playing. 

     There have been children in past generations who had their mouth washed out with soap.  I know I chewed on a bar every now and then growing up.  And I deserved it.  I don't disagree with that punishment I received at all.  Today, it is child abuse for having a child's mouth washed out with soap.  In the new liquid soaps children have got sick over digesting it. 

     The other day I was outside blowing bubbles with my 4 year old son, Levi.  As I blew into the bubble I was thinking that I am putting my germs into this soapy bubble.  I am healthy so I wasn't really worried but I gave more thought into it especially when my son tried catching the bubbles with his mouth.  I watched my germ filled bubbles floating off into the day sky thinking my germs are being spread everywhere.  What if I was a preschool teacher blowing bubbles for my class and they tried eating the bubbles?  Is the soap used for the bubbles strong enough to kill off my germs?  What if I had a cold and did that?  Would my cold germs carry over and infect another child?  Think of the birthday cake.  The birthday person blows all over the cake and then we eat it without a thought to it.  If we were in a restaurant and a waitress blows all over our food we would be grossed out by it and not eat it, but for cake it is okay?!  Popping someone else's bubbles with their germs inside is okay?  Or perhaps the next generation will discover the ill ramifications of blowing bubbles and this once beloved activity of childhood will be then deemed dangerous. 

As a final twist of thought; the yo-yo was once used as a weapon.