I Miss My Childhood

RIP Robert Hegyes a.k.a Epstein

2012-01-27T22:57:00.001-05:00

RIP Robert Hegyes/Epstein 1951-2012

While women fawned over John Travolta's Barbarino, I always thought Robert Hegyes' Epstein or Juan Luis Pedro Felipo de Huevos Epstein (if you prefer full monikers) was a bit of a looker. Along with his iconic strut, his fierce pride in being a Puerto Rican Jew, he had that fantastic head of hair and that gorgeous smile. I was a kid when Welcome Back Kotter first aired but I was indeed an Epstein fangirl. The infamous letters signed by "Epstein's mother" excusing him from scholarly pursuits were in the Corporal Klinger (of the 4077th) league of excuse notes.

Reminiscing about Epstein, certainly is a balm to the sadness caused by news of Robert Hegyes' passing yesterday. Welcome Back Kotter is one of those shows that transport me back in time: associated memories, feelings, sights, sounds explode forth.

The theme song gets me every time.

RIP Mr. Hegyes. RIP Epstein. You won't be forgotten.

The Littles to the Rescue

2012-01-25T23:06:00.003-05:00

I discovered The Littles one weekend while reading over my brother's shoulder. Every Friday like clockwork, he made a run to our elementary school library and would return home with many lovely tales. He would always share his booty of books with his little sister who increasingly became addicted to this weekend escapist ritual. He was my supplier.

As the story goes, the Littles were a family of tiny people: the tallest, Mr. William T. Little stood a mere six inches off the ground. His family lived in the walls of a regular sized human's house, one George Bigg (aptly named). By all accounts the Biggs were unaware that a family of tiny people lived in their home. Written by John Peterson, the series follows the adventures of this unique family, their extended kin and neighbours as they navigate through a "big" world. The only other quality that differentiated the Littles from other folks were their tails.

"The Littles had tails. There didn't seem to be any reason for the Littles to have tails. They couldn't do anything with them. They couldn't hang by their tails. And they didn't wag them when they were happy.

But the Littles liked their tails. They kept them combed and brushed. They tried never to drag their tails on the floor. If a Little was seen dragging his tail, the other Littles knew he was sick with a fever. And he was put right to bed and given a chip from the family's aspirin tablet."

The only copy of the Littles that graced my bookshelf was The Littles to the Rescue purchased via Scholastic Books. It was brilliantly illustrated by Roberta Carter Clark. There are several updated versions of the cover but none better than the Scholastic cover I had as a kid. In The Littles to the Rescue, Mrs. Little is about to give birth and anxiously awaits the arrival of her nurse, Aunt Lily who is caught in a snow storm. Can she make it in time?

Ah, a charming read. One that I've not forgotten all these years later.

Charles Addams and The Addams Family

2012-01-07T17:13:00.001-05:00

Originally posted on Shelly's Comic Book Shelf.

~~~o0o~~~

Thanks to Google, I know that today is the 100th anniversary of Charles Addams' birth.

Google Doodle

I've adored the cartoons of this cartoon genius since I was a kid. My father had briefly worked in the stock room at Doubleday following his discharge from the navy after WWII and was able to buy a lot of books. Lots of non-fiction, some fiction, and a lot of cartoon collections. I bought my own cartoon collections over the years and a few years ago, my father gave me his because he knew how much I coveted them.

Charles Addams Collections

The one with the plain cover is Drawn and Quartered. Its dust jacket fell apart many years ago. Favorite Haunts still has its dust jacket, which is in remarkable shape. And Monster Rally is a softcover I was able to find on my own. A number of Addams cartoons are also in the bigger anthologies that collected works of many wonderful cartoonists. But none were quite as perverse as Addams was, though many cartoonists who followed him brought their own brand of lunacy to the genre, ie Gahan Wilson and Charles Rodriguez, both of whom contributed to the National Lampoon.

But back to Addams. I supposed my favorite of his cartoons was the skiing one. I'm too lazy to go find and scan it, but it's classic: a tree with one set of ski tracks that run up to it, around it on both sides, then rejoin in front of it to continue on. There's no caption; none is necessary as we're left to scratch our heads in puzzlement, and wonder about the nature of the human/creature who left those tracks.

I grew up reading all those cartoon collections over and over and over. I traced the art. I practiced drawing by copying them freehand. Cartoons, as much as comic books, were a vital part of my childhood and now, my adulthood. And the cartoons by Addams feel as fresh today as when I first read them 50 or so years ago.

By the time The Addams Family premiered on TV, they were all familiar to me, as well known to me as my own family, though far more entertaining. And were brought to life by that amazingly perfect cast led by John Astin and Carolyn Jones.

So, here's a toast to Chas Addams, as he signed his cartoons... one of the very best to create a world with pen and paper and a deep imagination.

Happy New Year

2011-12-31T19:22:00.003-05:00

Happy New Year everyone. Singing along with the Muppets during the holidays has become a lovely tradition. Speaking of traditions, click on the link below to watch the cartoon version of "Happy New Year, Charlie Brown" (I would be amiss not to share the link each year, being a Peanuts fanatic and all). You may want also to revisit the archive for posts from New Years past. Thank you for reading. Much happiness for 2012.

Click to watch the cartoon version

Peanuts: Post-Christmas Musings

2011-12-27T18:41:00.002-05:00

Bless Us All

2011-12-24T23:25:00.004-05:00

Merry Christmas everyone!

The Lost Voice

2011-12-24T02:48:00.008-05:00

Remember when Carol Brady had laryngitis just before her Christmas day solo at church?

A lovely episode indeed. Like a dream, it captured so many of those moments that make Christmas beautiful for a child—well except for the part where Mike Brady beats the crap out of the department store Santa for promising Cindy that Carol would get her voice back in time for the Christmas morning service. Okay, that didn't happen (it only felt like it) nor did that Santa exactly promise such a thing (as Cindy and Mike suggested). Working-class Santa merely comforted the little pixie—who wouldn't? Mike in turn chastised the man harshly—the equivalent of being pantsed I'd say. As a kid, I felt for that Santa (much like I felt for that "silly rabbit" who was repeatedly denied Trix cereal by those overindulgent kids). If anyone needed a scolding, it was Mike who left Cindy alone in the lineup while he exchanged a gift on another floor. Oh Mike! Rather liking papa Brady in general, I forgave him for his momentary madness soon after.

There were so many lovely aspects to this episode: the decorations, the colours, the cards on the wall, the presents, the tree, the serious manner in which the children wrapped and hid gifts for their siblings, the kids sneaking a peak at the tree in the still of the night, the anticipation, the music, the look on Cindy's face as she tells her father "he's better than a doctor, he's Santa Claus" while It Came upon a Midnight Clear plays in the background and the joy of the family when Carol gets her voice (and groove) back.

Happy Chanukah

2011-12-21T22:09:00.003-05:00

Oh dreidel dreidel dreidel
I made it out of clay
And when it's dry and ready
Then dreidel I shall play

Chanukah is celebrated this year from December 20 to 28.

Growing up in a diverse city, I had friends who observed assorted religions/belief systems and accordingly celebrated wide-ranging holidays. Some were from multi-faith families who happily celebrated each of their family's respective traditions. Others were from single faith families and shared their customs with friends of other faiths. There was never any ill will or hatred. I only ever remember mutual respect and support. People were different. We got that. We embraced it. Friends were friends, end of.

I fondly remember learning The Dreidel Song as a child. We sang along with our Jewish friends with as much joy and anticipation for the approaching holiday season, as we did when singing Christmas carols. Those were happy times. Happy Chanukah everyone!

The Dreidel Song

I have a little dreidel

I made it out of clay

And when it's dry and ready

Then dreidel I shall play

CHORUS

Oh dreidel dreidel dreidel

I made it out of clay

And when it's dry and ready

Then dreidel I shall play

It has a lovely body

With legs so short and thin

And when it is so tired

It drops and then I win!

CHORUS

My dreidel's always playful

It loves to dance and spin

A happy game of dreidel

Come play now, let's begin!

CHORUS

The Christmas Raccoons (1980)

2011-12-21T00:12:00.003-05:00

A touching story that's well told and a treat to watch: three homeless raccoons and a kindly dog fight a greedy aardvark millionaire in an attempt to save their forest from destruction. A typical 80s cartoon plot but there are unique nuances and observations alongside a moving soundtrack that makes this special worth watching. One of my favorites indeed.

Let it Snow

2011-12-20T23:20:00.006-05:00

"One Christmas was so much like another...that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six."—Dylan Thomas

age six

December in childhood always meant snow, banks and banks of snow. There was snow for walks to and from the trinity of school, church and the street opposite's candy shop. And there was the home coming snowfall: those gentle or wild flakes that greeted and ushered you to the safe confines of your front door. There was the night before snowfalls...and the morning afters. A snow globe world, pretty as painted postcards. There was effort but there was solace. There were peals of laughter and high pitched voices. Frozen fingers and rosy cheeks. Layers and layers thrust upon us and yet we flitted about. Explorers all.

There was snow on balconies, driveways, window panes and rooftops. Snow dusted roads and windshield wipers. There was thick snow, soft snow, wet snow and the powdered variety. Mammoth blizzards and wee tinkles. There was snow for silent gazes and meditative sighs. There was snow for back hills sledding, snowman building, snow pants wearing, snow ball throwing, snow flakes tasting and angel making. One could do all sorts. Of course there were those who bemoaned the injustice of it all but we never had time for that lot.

And there was always snow at Christmas. Always. The snow gods smiled at us then. Here's hoping they smile so again.

Note: I'm wearing a Montreal Canadiens toque with a Boston Bruins scarf (sorry Leafs Nation but they were out of the Blue and White...what to do?). My brother had a similar lumber jack coat and settled for the Bruins gear. Note the Canadian Tire fan in the background.

Merry Christmas Mr. Snowman by Irma Wilde

2011-12-18T00:50:00.009-05:00

I couldn't have been more than seven years old that Christmas morning when my parents presented "Merry Christmas Mr. Snowman" by Irma Wilde to me. It was a gem of a book and offered an unforgettable reading experience, one that I would frequent in my mind's eye many years later. The name of the story, the characters and snippets of the plot faded with time but the feeling I had while turning those pages—transfixed and transported into a happier, hopeful place—that indeed remained. My copy of Merry Christmas Mr. Snowman remained with me for the many Christmases that followed but somehow along the way, as with many treasured items from childhood, it exited my life just as suddenly as it had entered. The longing to be united with the story continued for decades. I had often erroneously assumed the book to be a Golden Books publication (beautifully illustrated, hard covered children's tales tended to be). I was indeed mistaken, as it was Wonder Books that published the tale in 1951 and sometimes under an alternative title "The Snowman's Christmas Present". After many years of searching for searching for even a trace of the book, I stumbled upon it this year (it's a bit like finding the holy grail). Although, it's not physically in my hands, the scans and images that so many lovely people have shared online have soothed my soul.

Can you spot the book?

The photograph to the left is from our family album circa early 80s. Can you spot my copy of Merry Christmas Mr. Snowman in the bookshelf?

Narrated by Mr. Snowman himself (I love when snowmen are adept at storytelling): the story is an account of how he came to be, the affection he shared with the three young siblings who created him and the magical gift that Santa himself bestowed upon the chap. In short, the jolly old fella replaced the sad expression that young Davey accidentally engraved on the snowman with a beaming smile fit for Christmas day instead. In the end, everyone was happy...but of course. Wouldn't want it any other way.

Irma Wilde created some magnificent illustrations to accompany her story. It was these drawings: their colour and expression alongside the independence of the three children (you never see any adults in this story) that gripped me as a child. Two illustrations of Christmas Eve night in particular (see below) remained etched in memory—the first depicts the older children walking the youngest Davey to bed hand in hand and the second shows the three amid the throws of a most peaceful slumber. There was magic and solemnity to those illustrations. A magic that spotlighted one's hopes and dreams against the backdrop of a surreal, beloved and sometimes isolating holiday.

Samples of the magic:

Calsidyrose on Flickr

estelle & ivy on Flickr

Calsidyrose on Flickr

Calsidyrose on Flickr

Calsidyrose on Flickr

estelle & ivy on Flickr

Calsidyrose on Flickr

Images via Flickr and eBay

Once Upon a Time in Whoville

2011-12-12T00:24:00.001-05:00

Bewitched: A Vision of Sugar Plums

2011-12-11T00:26:00.001-05:00

"A Vision of Sugar Plums" was a lovely yuletide episode of Bewitched that aired on Christmas Eve 1964 during the show's first season.

Synopsis: When an orphan who's lost his belief in Santa Claus visits the Stevens' for Christmas, Samantha takes him on a magical journey to the North Pole to visit the real deal.

A cup of piping hot cocoa is strongly recommended while viewing.

Remembering John Lennon 1940-1980

2011-12-08T02:16:00.002-05:00

"Yeah we all shine on, like the moon, and the stars, and the sun."

As is customary on this blog, every December 8th we remember John Lennon, musican, poet, activist and dreamer. I vividly remember the day John was shot dead. The sadness, the shock, the eerie silence amid the tears...something beyond a child's scope had happened. I grappled with it that evening as we watched the evening news on CBS. Such a sad place the world could be. This was before the era of CNN and continuous news coverage and yet that night, every station tuned in, repeatedly broadcasting the stunning news. It seemed as though broadcasters and reporters themselves were struggling to make sense of it all. Of the many videos commemorating John Lennon, this raw and moving clip of Howard Cosell announcing John's death during Monday Night Football, December 8, 1980 is something to behold:

CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite December 9, 1980:

Headlines:

But of course the music remains.

RIP Harry Morgan

2011-12-07T18:46:00.005-05:00

Col. Potter: "Tomorrow, the tents of the 4077 will be coming down for good. For an awful long time we've been living together, eating together..."
Soldier: "Sleeping together."
Col. Potter: "Well, I wouldn't know, I have a horse."

"Well, I like fresh corn. I mean real fresh corn. So I think maybe I'll just take a hot plate out to the garden, make a pot of boiling water, then I won't even pick that corn - I'll bend that stalk till the ear dips into the water, and I'll eat it right there standing up. Scrumptious!"

"We order rectal thermometers, we get spark plugs. Both useful articles, but hardly interchangeable."

Known affectionately to legions of M*A*S*H fans as Colonel Sherman T. Potter, actor Harry Morgan died today at the age of 96. During his career he appeared in ten television series, fifty films and also appeared on Broadway. He spent eleven years playing the stern but compassionate surgeon at the 4077th. With his homespun charm and sharp wit, Potter had some of the best one liners in the series. He was a joy to watch and news of his passing leaves such sadness. Thanks for the memories Harry.

Worth reading: Seven Great Colonel Potter Moments.

Col. Potter: "Goodbye Margaret. I know you've got your career in order, don't forget to have a happy life too."
Maj. Houlihan: "You dear, sweet man. I'll never forget you."

Sights of the Season: The Perfect Tree

2011-12-07T00:08:00.000-05:00

Welcome December

2011-12-01T01:07:00.019-05:00

"How did it get so late so soon? Its night before its afternoon. December is here before its June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?"—Dr. Seuss

As we journey on to year's end, it's time for friends old and new. It only seemed appropriate to greet a new month with these old friends: Hermey the Misfit Elf and Sam Snowman from Rankin and Bass' stop motion animated special, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Yes, December is here and we're never too old for action figures.

Wonder Books: The Wizard of Oz

2011-11-30T00:13:00.001-05:00

The Wizard of Oz (1951) by L. Frank Baum adapted, abridged and published by Wonder Books was an obscure publication of a timeless tale and a beloved fixture in my childhood home. With most books or other such treasured relics from childhood, I carried it everywhere I went, so as to to take its magic and inspiration with me. From cover to cover the illustrations by Tom Sinnickson were glorious and inviting. Wonder Books had that special quality that Little Golden Books had. In fact, I thought they were one and the same for many years. It's not hard to see why: both are beautifully illustrated and abridged hard covered storybooks for children. A memory and moment in time that I have not forgotten. The images below are via eBay.

Happy Thanksgiving America

2011-11-24T15:19:00.002-05:00

Rainy Days

2011-11-22T12:21:00.001-05:00

The last couple of days here in Memphis have been rainy, so the streets are aglitter with the shimmery oil drippings of the commuters' vehicles, and chemicals of many colors, all so beautiful in their toxicity.

"How", we think "can pollution look so lovely?"

Rain, oh relaxing lullaby drizzling down, how you do remind me of my childhood. How safe we felt in the protection of our home and family... the lucky ones of us, I say as I'm sure that the rain may at this very moment reminding someone less fortunate than myself of other, darker childhood memories.

The memory floods back into my mind of a cool, misty morning... the rain was pouring down as my Mother made our way safely to the elementary school. There was something that comforted me, knowing that our classrooms would be dim as we watched the windows, painted with the blur of the colors outside soaked in raindrops.

The thunder and sounds of the storm gave me such a cozy feeling, as I eyed my Snoopy lunchbox, thermos filled with tea, knowing that my peanut butter and jelly sandwich waited patiently for me.Yes, I knew even then how to appreciate the blessings of the occasional wet wonderland.

Let our minds rewind as we enjoy a rainy childhood memory courtesy of "Pooh".

So the following verse was never really heartfelt for me:

"Rain, Rain go away...
Come again another day."

I was always happy on rainy days.

Bewitched

2011-11-19T17:55:00.001-05:00

One of the best sitcom intros ever.

RIP Bil Keane

2011-11-11T23:55:00.001-05:00

Keane's friend Charles M. Schulz, the late creator of "Peanuts," once said the most important thing about "Family Circus" is that it is funny. "I think we share a care for the same type of humor," Schulz told The Associated Press in 1995. "We're both family men with children and look with great fondness at our families."

I have a sentimental attachment to Family Circus, so the sad news of creator Bil Keane's passing—like his wife before him, three years ago—made me stop and reflect. Reading comics was an integral part of my childhood experience. As all comic strip enthusiasts know, the experience entails a great deal more than just reading gags. Comic strips are universes onto themselves. They are libraries of information, comfort, reference and inspiration. Every Saturday, I'd rush over (cookies in hand) to grab the brightly coloured Comics section in the Toronto Star and read it cover to cover, many times over. It was in many ways the pinnacle of my week. I'd always save "Peanuts" and "Family Circus" for last.

Sabbath mornings meant having to face the pompous individuals who attended our place of worship but there was always that post-churchgoing balm: the funny papers. Yes comics were a bit spiritual for me too. They put one at ease and helped one reflect. I always thought it to be divine intervention that ones churchgoing day coincided with the day newspapers published comics in colour. To my childhood awareness: this occurred for most people on Sunday (is this not still the case?). I assumed the powers that be realized we were a bit different and naturally accommodated us on Saturdays.

I'm an admitted Peanuts fanatic (it takes precedence over all else in the world of comics) but Family Circus too provided joy and comfort in my younger days. My older cousin once lent me a copy of her Family Circus paper back—it was read, re-read, and carried around one weekend with an affection akin to babysitting a new puppy. Books have always been like friends. So when a beloved artist who was a point of reference in your childhood passes away, it is indeed a cause to pause and look back—with gratitude. Bil Keane's fellow cartoonists have also remembered him with affection. Here's a sampling (click here for more):

MIKE PETERS (“Mother Goose & Grimm”): We've just lost the Norman Rockwell of comic strips. He was as American as Irving Berlin, and that's why [“Family Circus”] was a part of everyone’s morning. He spent those early years observing his own family, and that was his secret. How could such true and sweet cartoons come out of such a wicked sense of humor. God love you. Bil. ‘Course, I'm sure He has your cartoons already taped on the Gates.

LYNN JOHNSTON (“For Better or For Worse”): I think my memories of Bill will echo those of so many others: He was generous, kind, talented and very, very funny. He loved his wife, Thel, so much that when she died [in 2008], I think the light went out in his life. Despite the love and companionship of family and friends, he never really recovered. I wish that we could all have experienced such devotion in a partner. Bil was such a good example to us all — not only was he a hard and prolific worker, he was a man of honor, principle and integrity as well. He will be sadly missed.

JERRY SCOTT ("Zits"): I first met Bil when he was the president of the NCS and he and Mell Lazarus ("Momma," "Miss Peach") were pulling together plans to bring the Reuben dinner to Los Angeles. Of course, he put me right to work.Throughout my career, Bil was a friend and a mentor. One of the highlights of our friendship was writing and performing in a skit during the Family Circus Roast one Reuben Weekend. Rick Kirkman ("Baby Blues") and I came up with the idea of re-creating several classic Family Circus panels with live actors (well, cartoonists) wearing Foam Core masks of Mommy, Daddy, Billy, Dolly, Jeffy, P.J. and Barfy posing in front of a giant 'Family Circus' signature backdrop circle. Of course, we made up our own wildly inappropriate captions to go with the re-creations, and Bil roared.What a wonderful man. I'll miss him a lot.

SCOTT ADAMS (“Dilbert”): Bil was a misunderstood creative genius who knew how to write for his target audience. Critics were sometimes harsh, especially other cartoonists. But allow me to point out the obvious: If other cartoonists could make a family-oriented comic that was as popular as “Family Circus,” they would have done it.He was also a great guy. I was a big fan.

The Flying Ace

2011-11-11T23:39:00.001-05:00

Remembrance

Daddy Made It All Ok

2011-11-10T11:12:00.003-05:00

It's no special day regarding my Daddy, but sometimes when I'm going through an especially emotional time, or I'm just stressing out, I wish I could run home and put my head on his shoulder and just hear "Everything's Gonna Be Alright", or "I'll Give You Some'n Ta Cry About!!" =)

We may grow up, or grow into these adult bodies, but I think that we're really always just those same scared children, protected by old shells, who from time-to-time still need a hug and a kiss from Mom and Dad.

These videos make me laugh and think of you so very fondly Daddy, because you would just sing these songs around the house to make us laugh... Love and miss you so much.

The Friendly Giant (1980)

2011-11-02T23:45:00.003-04:00

For your viewing and listening pleasure. Oh, that melody.

Someone's Giving Out Candy?

2011-10-30T23:30:00.001-04:00

"What is this? What did you say? Someone's giving out candy? Who's giving out candy? EVERYONE WE KNOW is just giving out candy!"

A lovely read for Halloween and childhood enthusiasts alike, is Jerry Seinfeld's children's book aptly called "Halloween" (2002). It's been awhile but I briefly discussed this book in a previous post. Beautifully illustrated by James Bennett, "Halloween" is a journey through the comedian's memories of childhood daydreams, costume planning and most importantly candy-getting strategies. I love this book not only for the illustrations (a reader could get lost gazing into each page) but also simply for its honesty. Seinfeld shares such candid moments as the discovery of Halloween, to the anticipation, preparation and launching of the big night—all through the eyes of a child. He captured several moments that I forgot about—and I reflect on such matters often. It's a fond look back but also an off-handed psychological analysis of what a kid experiences during that magical and seemingly inconceivable season of trick-or-treating.

I scanned in (apologies in advance for the poor quality, the book is far larger than my scanner) a few of my favorite passages (see below). This is a gem of a book, one every childhood fan needs in their library.

Mother's and Halloween. A coat is always a must—even if you live in an apartment building!

I myself cannot remember one Halloween without one of those masks (universal and undecipherable—as to what the costume is supposed to be, in my opinion). The rubber bands had short lifespans indeed.

But in the end it was always about the candy wasn't it?

The Schoolmaster's Journey

2011-10-25T01:09:00.003-04:00

Oh dear Ichabod, you're really going to have to rethink that route home. Traveling through a haunted hollow at the very witching hour of night—probably not the best of ideas. Just saying.

Always a Halloween treat: watch Ichabod's harrowing journey à la Disney here or find links to the text of Washington Irving's original tale and also revisit clips of the 1980 Jeff Goldblum film version here. Also many thanks to Lara for reminding me to revisit Scooby Doo's take on Irving's old tale.

Happy Days - Haunted

2011-10-23T18:21:00.002-04:00

Hmm, what did Richie see to frighten him so?

Old Lady Simpson...is that you?

The Halloween themed episode of Happy Days entitled "Haunted" aired on
October 29, 1974 during the sitcom's second season. To their credit, the writers crafted a tale worthy of Halloween while being loyal to the charming interactions of the Cunningham family and their neighbours (this of course was before the series literally jumped the shark). As the episode begins, Ralph announces that his annual Halloween party will be held at the old Simpson house—a house which local legend deems to be haunted by the deceased and headless former house-mistress "Old Lady Simpson". Richie is thrown into the complicated dynamics of teenage socializing while navigating through his fears about the local legend. The best moments of this episode naturally feature Richie as he explores the house alone—the rustic and eerie feel of the abode are brilliantly conveyed to the audience and of course there are those endearing discussions with his father. Dear Mr. Cunningham, the epitome of fatherhood. He always knew what to say and how to say it.

I remember watching "Haunted" with my face firmly planted behind a large pillow, in the off chance the episode went sinister on us with Old Lady Simpson avenging her territory by killing off Richie. Richie thankfully survived the episode and so did my younger self. Now of course, it's simply must see retro sitcom viewing.

Halloween Memories

2011-10-23T01:45:00.000-04:00

Aside from free candy, the best thing about Halloween when
you're a kid is that you get to wear costumes and sometimes
even design them yourself.

Once in awhile, however, you may in fact see ghosts, goblins,
and witches in a less than amusing light.

But worry not my friend, for those moments are only temporary:
the fear passes and joy reigns supreme. After all, you're a kid
and it's Halloween! So get to it.

Lost and Found

2011-10-21T18:48:00.006-04:00

My copy of It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown circa the early 80s.

It's not exactly the time of year to be discussing painted eggs and magical bunny rabbits carrying said eggs or more appropriately for this post, magical beagles. Carved pumpkins and spooky goblins, ghosts or witches are the typical mid-to-late October fare of discourse. The reason for this out-of-season Easter post is that after decades of wishing that I would one day recover but one of my lost and most beloved Charlie Brown paper back books (from the Scholastic Book Services series circa the early 80s), it indeed happened. Like a sunken treasure that makes its way back to land, my copy of "It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown" came home.

It was returned to me by an older cousin visiting from Florida—it had been in her mother's house a few blocks away from me. All these years, and it was in my own neighbourhood. I have no idea how my aunt came to have the book in her possession. I screamed in delight when my cousin presented the book (apparently it had called a cardboard box its home for many a year). Books have always been like good friends for me. Charlie Brown and his gang of misfits were that and so much more, they were family...kindred spirits and not a week passed by in childhood when my brother and I did not refer to them. I carried that book with me everywhere (as you can surely see from the wear and tear on its edges). And as many children do, I wrote my name and address on the cover (I blurred this in the images below) and on several pages inside, if perchance someone wasn't sure who the book belonged to. Books were and still are akin to treasures. And homecomings are always lovely.

A New Way To Walk

2011-10-19T23:34:00.000-04:00

When my brother and I first heard "A New Way To Walk" by the Oinker Sisters (Sesame Street's answer to the Pointer Sisters) as children in the 80s, we erupted in joyful laughter. It was quite the tune—unforgettable, literally—and their moves were something to behold. No mistaking it, these confident piggies were divas and owned it. There was an "updated" version of the song featuring Destiny's Child which was sub-par to say the least...Okay, it was just plain horrible. Watch the video above and see if this tune doesn't take you back.

Quote

2011-10-15T23:24:00.000-04:00

"Literature is a textually transmitted disease,
normally contracted in childhood." —Jane Yolen

The Music of John Denver: A Soundtrack to Childhood

2011-10-12T19:18:00.001-04:00

On this date in 1997, John Denver's personal aircraft tragically crashed into the Pacific Ocean killing the 53 year old singer/activist. A quick listen to John's music and I'm quickly reminded of how much his songs mean to me. My love of his music began in childhood. His songs take me back to the old record player/stereo/8-track player that stood in my living room, all those years ago. As kids, my brother and I would sit on the floor and inspect his album covers from front to back and wonder who the bespectacled and curious-looking fellow with the nice voice was. His songs were meaningful stories filled with emotion. We may not have understood all of his lyrics but we sure did feel them. It's as if his melodies understood what we were going through.

Sunshine on My Shoulders takes me back to my walks to school or standing in solitude in the schoolyard when recess friends were absent. Rocky Mountain High and Country Roads takes me back to family road trips to the United States. Everything about America fascinated me as a child. For the first few trips we took there, I was beside myself with delight (the magic never did fade). America. We were going to America. His music reminds me of how I felt crossing the border, the anticipation of meeting our American relatives (I imagined rightly or wrongly, large banquets and mountainside banjo sessions) and how everything seemed just a bit different once we crossed the 49th parallel. Of course who could forget John's stint on the Muppets. No explanation needed there. In retrospect, some of his songs, sadly, seem prophetic as if he was saying goodbye well ahead of his passing. What a soul. What a voice. Goosebumps.

So here's to you John Denver: thanks for providing a soundtrack to my childhood and for reminding me to hope as an adult. You are remembered with much love.

Quote

2011-10-02T15:27:00.000-04:00

"When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life."
— John Lennon

Library Cards

2011-09-25T23:16:00.005-04:00

Created by knotandbow on Etsy

I spotted this beautiful multicolored set of old school library sign-out cards on Tumblr and simply had to blog about it. These cards are pure nostalgia for childhood enthusiasts and book lovers alike.

My elementary school library was that last safe bastion, akin to a holy shrine where a child could take sanctuary and escape the pressures of unimaginative classrooms and unruly teachers. I walked through its aisle's with such reverence and wide-eyed wonder, after all it was there where one could jump into a story. What would children do without story-time? After rummaging through shelves of treasures, there was always the signing out process. The filling in of those lovely cards and the subsequent stamp of the resident librarian was like an official badge acknowledging your book-finding hunt and the resulting booty you hauled in. Your name would be remembered and revered (or so some of us thought). Take that future readers, someone got there before you did!

Simple joys.

Remembering Dr. Seuss

2011-09-24T19:11:00.008-04:00

It's interesting how our collective childhoods intersect.

Earlier today we commemorated what would have been Jim Henson's 75th birthday. This day however, also marks a special anniversary for yet another brilliant childhood artist/contributor: twenty years ago today, Theodor Seuss Geisel a.k.a Dr. Seuss passed away. "Mental Floss" has a piece in his honour entitled "10 Stories Behind Dr. Seuss Stories on the 20th Anniversary of His Death". Interesting bits of trivia worth reading.

"If I Ran the Zoo" (1950) has the first recorded
instance of the word “nerd”. (via Mental Floss)

Happy 75th Jim Henson

2011-09-24T00:57:00.001-04:00

Google Doodles and the Jim Henson Company have collaborated to commemorate what would have been Jim Henson's 75th birthday (today September 24th) with an interactive Muppet themed doodle. The doodle features six original Muppet characters. Pointing your mouse over each of these characters (who have cleverly spelled out "Google" with their bodies) grants users powers of digital puppetry. Très cool.

Worth reading is a touching guest post written by Jim's son Brian (Chairman of the Jim Henson Company) on the Google Blog. Here's a snippet:

"Although he loved family, his work was almost never about “traditional” families. The Muppets were a family—a very diverse one. One of his life philosophies was that we should love people not for their similarities, but for their differences.

Jim often had a little lesson about the important things in life: How to be a good person. How to believe in yourself and follow your dreams. And above all, how to forgive. If anything was stolen from one of us—like when the car was broken into—he would always say, “Oh well, they probably needed that stuff more than we did.”

He loved gadgets and technology. Following his lead, The Jim Henson Company continues to develop cutting-edge technology for animatronics and digital animation, like this cool Google doodle celebrating Jim’s 75th birthday. But I think even he would have found it hilarious the way today some people feel that when they’ve got their smartphone, they no longer need their brain."

Sing The Clouds Away

2011-09-23T23:22:00.013-04:00

Before I entered elementary school, my mother would often settle my brother and I down for an afternoon nap—just one of a million things she had to do in her day. She would either place us on our beds or on a blanket on the floor but she would always position us by a window.

I remember vague snippets of those moments before I fell into an afternoon's slumber: namely the way the marshmallowy clouds looked in the skies above our apartment building and the sound of my mother's sweet voice softly singing us to sleep. Perhaps she chose a spot close to a window so we could indeed see the clouds above—rather fitting, as her song of choice was called "Sing the Clouds Away". Perhaps not intended as a lullaby, the song hails from a Christian gospel background. Although I'm not religious in that sense anymore, it is indeed a song special to my history. I still remember the tune and most of the lyrics (although time has jumbled some of the verses in my head). Most of all, however, I remember how hearing my mother sing this melody made me feel: safe, secure, loved and hopeful.

I found two different versions of the song with slight differences in lyrics and even song title but the gist of the song is there. Also, not the best quality but click here to get an idea of what the tune sounds like. It's one of those hallmark type moments from childhood that bring to mind the concept of journey. From humble beginnings, eyes on the heavens, sleeping, dreaming and ever onwards on the path.

Sing The Clouds Away (source)

Sing the clouds away,
Night will turn to day;
If you’ll sing and sing and sing
You’ll sing the clouds away.
Smile the clouds away,
Night will turn to day;
If you’ll smile and smile and smile
You’ll smile the clouds away.
Sing and smile and pray,
Pray and pray and pray;
Night will turn to day,
No matter what they say;
Sing and smile and pray,
That's the only way
If you’ll sing and smile and pray
You’ll drive the gloom away.

And:

Sing and Smile and Pray the Clouds Away (source)

Sing the clouds away, night will turn to day;
If you sing and sing and sing, You'll sing the clouds away.

Smile the clouds away, night will turn to day;
If you smile and smile and smile, You'll smile the clouds away.

Pray the clouds away, Pray and pray and pray;
Night will turn to day, No matter what they say.

Sing and smile and pray, that's the only way!
If you sing and smile and pray, You'll drive the clouds away.
[Written by The Brocks, 1934]

Hey Cindy, I've Got Marcia's Diary!

2011-09-19T13:37:00.003-04:00

I finally have a copy of Maureen McCormick's autobiography.

Back cover: from the 100th episode taping.

Roald Dahl Day

2011-09-13T23:30:00.002-04:00

"Roald Dahl" by serenebean, on Flickr

“There is no substitute for books in the life of a child.”

Happy Roald Dahl Day! Every year on September 13 (the date of the British author's birth) fans the world over commemorate the storyteller's work and legacy. This year marks a special occasion indeed: the 50th anniversary of the author's beloved children's tale, James and the Giant Peach (1961). As a treat, read a chapter from the book!

Mini-Chiclets

2011-09-10T01:30:00.003-04:00

Adam's Mini Chiclets by joad_henry on Flickr

There's only one way to enjoy a packet of mini-Chiclets (think rainbow-coloured Chiclets smashed into even tinier pieces—not to be confused with the those two-Chiclet packets that are doled out at Halloween):

Pour said packet(s) into one's mouth.
Giggle ridiculously.
Chew until flavour wears out.
Aim and spit the accumulated wad of gum from one's mouth into the nearest garbage can. The louder the thud on landing, the greater the pride in the wad.

It's one of those little moments from childhood that I tend to remember, for the pure happiness it brought. Now to locate a packet locally and relive those simple joys.

70s Photo Album: From the Vault

2011-09-10T00:05:00.000-04:00

Bro, Mum and Me (as a baby)!

Those Pretty Brick Walls

2011-09-06T02:34:00.001-04:00

Ah, with September comes another school year. In each of our histories, there was that first day of school. Let's hope the kids out there have a wonderful time. Easier said than done, right? I know it far too well. Oh if those pretty brick walls could talk.

Elementary school: that early and raw introduction to the real world - filled with all the harshness, loneliness, rejection, ambivalence, dreams, hopes, failures, successes etc...that we continue to face every day as adults. When I look back and explore some of my earliest scholarly experiences, I'm stunned that I came out in one piece. Of course it was not in every school year that I found bullies in the hallways, classrooms (especially the teacher variety), schoolyard or during the sometimes harrowing journey home. These were mercifully spread out...for my enlightenment (or so I'm inclined to believe). In contrast, there truly were some incomparable moments of joy, connection, community and creativity. That smell of newness and hope dripping off of your school books, clothes, lunch boxes, erasers and friendships...was something to behold.

I wish I could bottle it, keep it and give it a hug.

Brady Bunch Paperbacks

2011-08-26T01:53:00.002-04:00

Lara kindly passed along pics of her Brady Bunch paperbacks via her impressive (and I mean impressive) collection of childhood memorabilia. Both were written by Jack Matcha and presented by Tiger Beat (remember them?) for the high cost of 95¢. The books provide a wee glimpse into Brady mania which extended far beyond the show (and variety hour) and into the "literary" world. Perhaps the pages of a book provided ample room for the suspension of disbelief rule to take effect: dealings with mysterious strangers and adventures on the high seas. This family got around.

The book on the left is entitled "The Brady Bunch in The New York Mystery". A synopsis on the cover reveals:

"A trip to New York turns into a dangerous adventure when Peter turns photographer and the family becomes involved with four mysterious strangers!"

Wasn't Greg the resident photographer in the Brady household? If I recall correctly, football games and cheerleader portraits were his specialty. I guess he was busy that week.

The book on the right is called "The Brady Bunch in Adventure on the High Seas":

"Follow TV's famous family as a planned vacation aboard a steamship turns into a dangerous and exciting mystery when jewel thieves board the Bradys' ship!"

This family can never have simple, relaxing vacations: think Hawaii and also Jan losing Mike's plans on that trip to King's Island Amusement Park.

The Brady's will never cease to amuse. Thank you Lara!

Simon in the Land of Chalk Drawings

2011-08-23T02:06:00.001-04:00

Always worth revisiting:

70s Photo Album: Tourists

2011-08-19T01:48:00.004-04:00

At the Ontario Hydro Floral Clock on the Niagara Parkway.
I like looking at the folks in the background. Like my pouty face?

In a motel at Thousand Islands.
A real place, not the salad dressing.

The Accidental tourists.
Not sure where we went but we went along. Although this was shot at home. Nifty threads, eh?

The More That You Read...

2011-08-15T23:47:00.002-04:00

Photo: "Dr. Seuss Books" by ashanlever (flickr)

“The more that you read, the more things you will know.
The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.” - Dr. Seuss

On a Summer's Night

2011-08-09T01:32:00.000-04:00

There's nothing like the simple pleasures found on a Summer's night.

The Ronettes - Be My Baby

2011-08-03T01:55:00.046-04:00

"1965 I was wearing my tight chino's, white socks and cockroach killers, brill cream, an ID bracelet, never could afford a leather jacket. Carried my transistor radio with me, just in case a new song came out . Miss those days."
- 1952kid

The quote above is from a comment left by a YouTuber in response to a video of The Ronettes singing "Be My Baby" circa 1965 (see clip below). The quote captures the very sentiment of this blog: a longing for days past. Sometimes I must admit, I get a longing for days well before my past.

GoRetroPam's entry on Martha and the Vandellas inspired me to share my love of girl groups from the 60s. The Crystals, The Ronettes, The Shirelles, The Chiffons and Martha and the V's were a few of my favourites. In fact, music from both the 50s and 60s have appealed to me since I was a tyke. During my teen years I would listen to the oldie stations every weekend and imagine what it would be like growing up during those decades. The music, the dance moves, the fashions, the politics, the culture of the day, the romance...what a different time. My mum was a child and teenager during those decades but she grew up in a strict Christian household, and in India, so her knowledge of music (which later evolved considerably) initially only included gospel, country western (brought over by American missionaries) and Indian. Had she grown up in America, perhaps her teenage experience would have been different. I'm convinced that had I grown up during that era, I would've been at home dancing in front of the TV set or mirror with my hair brush-microphone much like Tracy Turnblad in the original Hairspray (1988 - watch the original trailer). Ok, I confess, I sometimes still do this.

So sit back and enjoy. And if you're like me, grab that hair brush and practice those dance moves. And if perchance you were born at a later time, imagine the days that might have been.

PS: Just had to add "He's So Fine" by The Chiffons to this post. One of my all time favourite oldies from the girl group era:

The One Where I'm Scared Shitless of Deer

2011-07-29T01:41:00.006-04:00

Mum, Bro and I - circa late 70s.

This post is for Lara. In particular, it's a response to her lovely post entitled Turtleback Zoo - 1974 which features adorable photos of a wee Lara in the company of deer. Her photos are idyllic with a magical quality to them. I suspect it's the type of photo my parents were trying to capture on an outing one day when we found ourselves amid a herd of grazing deer (it was either at a zoo, Marine Land or some place with lots of deer). Instead, as you can clearly see from the photo above, I was petrified of said deer. I cried and put up such a fuss. An anti-deer feeding rebellion, if you will. My parents gently tried to coax me (well knowing my dad, he may have yelled a little but I can't remember) and even pointed out small babies who were petting the deer. For a few moments, I stopped wailing and watched the tykes barely out of diapers feeding hungry deer straight from their precious little hands...and then I cried some more. Finally, with much trepidation, I agreed to the photo above. My body language is screaming: "let's do this thing, fast!"

I do love dipping into our family photo album archive. With every snap shot there's a story and a look at who we once were or perhaps still are. A reminder of the journey we've been on. And of course there's also the fashion commentary and the period ensembles we once rocked.

Go 70s!

Quote

2011-07-29T01:09:00.001-04:00

"A child can escape the shadows." - Steve Largent

Pepperidge Farm

2011-07-23T17:28:00.002-04:00

source: eBay

To this day, my memories of Pepperidge Farm's frozen Chocolate Fudge Layer Cake resurface with the same vigor and drool-worthy effect the actual product induced when I was in elementary school. It was that blessed delight that awaited you after a hard day of school or that temptation which pushed thoughts of Jesus out of your mind during elongated Saturday morning church sermons. Whomever granted chocolate cake these magical powers must be applauded. The Pepperidge variety in particular were incomparable to our young minds. As mundane as it may have seemed to onlookers, for my brother and I, our Pepperidge Farm cake eating ritual was legendary and still referred to with a reverence typically reserved for solemn occasions. Tiptoeing to the freezer in our PJ's, sweaters and socks with our favourite blue saucers and stainless steel spoons in hand, we began our chocolatey adventure.

My brother (being older) would also come equipped with a knife or butter knife (and when no available knife was in sight, a spoon did the trick). He cut slices like a proper chocolate cake surgeon would. I assisted the surgery by holding up the saucers and spoons. No matter how small a piece remained, we always shared it equally. The cake came in those lovely red-bordered rectangular boxes which one had to disassemble methodically - in order to open the box from the top. This task was never allotted to me: my family could always tell when I opened a box of anything new because I always botched the job (to this day, I cannot open boxes - or envelopes properly). Whenever possible we added a dollop of Chapman's ice cream (how I loved the two little kids on the box) to the mix. We seemed to always have an endless supply of Neapolitan ice cream in our home (doesn't everyone?). I savored every last morsel, lingering in its splendor. Tasty things have a way of disappearing quickly. One had to make the most of it.

RIP Sherwood Schwartz 1916-2011

2011-07-12T19:23:00.003-04:00

Sherwood Schwartz the beloved creator of Gilligan's Island and Brady Bunch passed away today at the age of 94. As evidenced by the posthumous letter revealed to fans (and penned by the man himself), Schwartz indeed lived a good life, one filled with love, success and happiness. It's fitting that a man who inspired so much happiness in so many childhoods, lived a happy life. Fitting indeed.

Without a doubt, my childhood would not have been the same without the fascinating Brady brood or those delightfully eccentric and bumbling island bound group of seven. They were friends, when friends were scarce. They were babysitters, when 12-hour shifts beckoned. They were sources of inspiration, when a bedroom full of toys and empty cardboard boxes lay waiting on a Sunday afternoon. They were the balm for the inevitable disappointments, hurt and exhaustion that schooldays sometimes brought forth. They introduced impressive dance moves, far out clothing, and groovy songs for each succeeding generation. I learned some killer acting skills from watching many a Gilligan's Island dream sequence. I can still say:

"Just a poor cockney flower girl, that's all Ah is! But Ah owes everything to Doctor Gilligan. 'E taught me to walk, and to talk, and to dress, like a regular LADY! 'E give me real CLASS 'e did! " à la cockney Mary Ann in the Jekyll and Hyde episode - replete with nose blowing.

And George Glass. Who didn't have a George Glass (or...er in some cases, a "Jean-Claude")?

There are far too many items to list to be grateful for. So I'll just say, thank you Sherwood, for everything.

A Boy Named Charlie Brown

2011-07-09T09:43:00.003-04:00

This song makes one's eyes well up. Ah.

PS: There was a lovely comment left by Lazlo below, a must read.

5 Years On

2011-06-24T02:10:00.011-04:00

yours truly and bro

This simple blog is now officially five years old! An amusing diversion from daily life indeed. Cheers to all the lovely folks who visit regularly and leave comments: a special nod to Lara and Tina. I enjoy sharing memories with you and discussing obscure items/references from days past. Perhaps one day we will find an English copy of The Secret Railroad (most requested topic from readers) or uncover other such mysteries. Your feedback and suggestions as always, are much appreciated. Many thanks. xo

Fraidy Kat

2011-06-22T01:10:00.000-04:00

Brady Bunch: Father of the Year

2011-06-19T15:01:00.004-04:00

Click to watch Marcia's tribute to Mike
(isn't it lovely when Marcia is actually nice?)

Happy Father's Day

2011-06-19T11:03:00.005-04:00

Dad and bro circa mid 70s

The Doll in the Hall

2011-06-17T00:58:00.003-04:00

The doll pictured on the left (apologies for the poor quality, it's the only snapshot available from our ancient family archives) was a Christmas present given to me in the early 80s. In all respects, it seemed the lovely sort of doll for a little girl: fully equipped with a pretty gown, pink silk ribbons, and long blonde hair. Perfect, save for one fact:

It scared the bejeezus out of me.

I believed the doll to be slightly possessed. That's right: evil. There was something about its eyes that disturbed me. It was also taller than most dolls I had the pleasure of being acquainted with. It freaked me out to the point where I was actually afraid to walk past it - lest it reach out and smother me in some eerie doll-like fashion. My parents thought I was being silly and told me to play with it, it was a doll after all. My father suggested for purposes of desensitizing yours truly (or punishing, I still can't figure out which one), that we keep the demon doll in our main hallway, the one that jutted out from the living room - in other words, my main route of travel within our tiny apartment. Faced with this fearful predicament, I often ran past it or begged my brother to walk with me. Even seated in the living room whilst reading a book or watching television, I felt its eyes glaring at me. Unsettling to say the least.

I suppose the years of fearful sermons I'd listened to in church caught up with me or perhaps it was the lingering memory of a throwaway 70s horror flick (the name of which I have never ascertained) where an evil old doll maker, fashioned creepy dolls with eyes that lit up on command, that polluted my mind. After a brief period of torment, my mum told my brother to hide the doll in our closet, much to my relief. Temporary relief that is, for if ever I happened to stumble across it, I would become jumpy again. Eventually my mother had enough and we gave the doll away. And this was the only toy that I ever gave away joyfully and with much sympathy for the recipient.

Now on to a much lovelier doll experience. "Belle" (as I conveniently named her) was the pretty southern belle doll I received from one of my mother's coworkers. She wore a long, pink gown with lace trim (and lace nickers - I always checked underneath) and stood atop a white plastic stand. She kept her ginger hair in a lovely bun, always. A lace fascinator remained permanently affixed to the top of her head. Her hand-painted face with the twinkling green eyes always wore a knowing smile. It seemed to me that "Belle" had been "around" and rather liked being in the company of gentlemen callers. She was always at the ready, if ever a ball should be announced. I suspect she spent her days drinking mint juleps and calling folks "darlin". She seemed 50ish and thus, would serve as a mother substitute for my other toys (mainly a hoard of smurfs). I had no other worldly problems with Belle. Alongside my beloved Barbie doll (which I sadly do not have a photo of), she inspired many happy moments. The belle of the ball indeed.

70s Photo Album: Stylin'

2011-06-07T14:03:00.004-04:00

The two older kids are my cousins. The two younger kids are my brother and I.

Pants Fall Down

2011-05-31T18:39:00.001-04:00

In second grade, as I was skipping rope with a few of the girls, my pants began a slow and steady slide off of my waist. I was indeed aware throughout that morning that these trousers were not as tightly fit as ugly brown corduroys should be. This observation alone should have set off alarm bells, preventing me from participating in a spirited round of jump rope before my peers but seeing that I sucked at every other physical activity save for hopscotch and the later to be discovered "20 Minute Workout", I happily joined in. What could there possibly be to worry about? The fluorescent pink skipping rope was calling me. The colours of jump rope available in the 80s tended to create a slight intoxication effect in my body and mind. Sadly, my joy was short-lived, as the slipping pants continued their journey past the "bejeweled area" and mercifully or ironically or cruelly (depending on how you look at it) paused just above my knees - and only because I was able to catch them in mid flight.

This unexpected turn of events enabled everyone to catch a glimpse of the awful long johns: the kind made for boys - as evidenced by the roomy crotch (my brother and I each received a pair) I was sporting underneath my ugly brown cords. My father forced me to wear them - he often picked out the drab, homely clothing he thought were warm, cheap, appropriate and fat enough for me to wear. My friends gasped and quickly alerted me. My brother's cute best friend, Kyle, happened to be watching and laughed uncontrollably at my humiliating predicament (I still remember his squeals), before he was mercifully chastised by my friends. I'm surprised this incident did not inspire a demeaning jump rope rhyme - or a revamping of an original, in my honour:

Cinder-Chella
Dressed in yella
Went to meet her handsome fella.
On the way her brown cords busted
How many people were disgusted?
1! 2! 3! 4! (etc.)

I couldn't pull my pants fast enough and declined other invitations to jump rope later that week - it was too soon.

Play Ball

2011-05-30T23:34:00.000-04:00

'Tis the season for baseball. I recall the varied styles of the sport that I had the good fortune (or misfortune, depending on how you look at it) to participate in:

There were the forced and frightening grade school variety where one's gym teacher displayed the charisma and compassion of a despot (I was terribly unfortunate in the gym teacher department). Sweat dripping on brow, a class of thirty plus eager to cast judgement: a do or die moment. I admit it, I was a Charlie Brown type athlete with strong hints of Lucy. . .you get the picture.

There were also the impromptu neighbourhood pick-up games involving any kid available or interested - these were fun but still carried the social pressure element to them. The potential for humiliation and ridicule ever present.

My favourite "versions" of baseball however, were those I played with my brother and close friends. There was no pressure, just pure joy and love of the game. Granted we sometimes invented our own rules - like altering base numbers, having ghost runners and variations on batting or pitching style or what exactly constituted a ball (sometimes a ball could be anything that could be thrown). At the end of the day, the beauty of it all was the fun we had and inspiration we gained - rules be damned.

Calvin and Hobbes on Nostalgia

2011-05-18T01:42:00.005-04:00

Click to enlarge.

On My Favourite Toys List

2011-05-15T01:07:00.003-04:00

One Christmas, many moons ago, I received a curly-haired baby doll replete with tub and shower. A simple addition of batteries and water produced a Christmas morning that was more magical than could be expected. Indeed, I went nuts over the simple joy of bathing a toy. It made such an impression that it reserved a sacred spot on my favourite toys list.

Regrettably, I did not take pictures of my toys. The images below are as close to replicating the doll/tub set I received as a child, as I could possibly find online. They were spotted some time ago (after months of diligent searching) on eBay and other such websites. I unfortunately cannot remember the exact sources, my apologies.

Little Miss and Mr. Men

2011-05-09T23:55:00.000-04:00

Google Doodles did it again. Remember their nod to Scooby Doo? This time, they paid homage to an author/illustrator whose iconic story books have been gracing childhoods for 40 years. Today would have been the 76th birthday of Roger Hargreaves, the creator of the "Little Miss" and "Mr. Men" books. The series boasted a cast of beloved, silly and unforgettable characters:

Remember these titles?

Images: Google and Guardian.

Happy Mother's Day

2011-05-08T15:10:00.034-04:00

An enduring memory I have of my mother and a testament to her love, occurred in the late 70s.

As I recall, it was a weekday morning and a blizzard was approaching: you could feel it in your bones. The weather in the late 70s, if anything was memorable. Having just had major surgery, Mum was on bed rest with strict instructions to avoid heavy lifting or work of any kind. What was to be a morning of rest, however, quickly turned into one of alarm.

The phone call from the elementary school informed that her youngest child was amid the throws of a fierce bout of asthma. At the time, my dad regrettably worked for a monster of a woman who lacked even the simplest shred of compassion and refused to give him time off to pick up a sick child from school (fully aware of local weather conditions and also that my mother was at home convalescing).

Since she did not drive, my mother, recuperating from a hysterectomy, walked to the elementary school in a blizzard, to pick up her ailing offspring.

The finer details of that morning have escaped me and I have more or less (mercifully) blocked out vivid recollections of my asthma attacks but I do remember the struggle to breathe and walk home over mounds of snow alongside my weak mother and older brother (I don't remember how he got there but I'm assuming he was called to help by the school). As it turned out, our direction home meant that we had to walk directly into the wind and torrent of snowfall. At one point, I hunched over, holding my knees with my hands, panting...I could go no further. My mother then lifted me up and carried me home with no regard to her tender surgical wounds or stitches. She simply was on a mission to get her kids home. She lovingly urged us to keep going, never once becoming angry or impatient.

She brought us home safely that day. When it came to her children, everything else came second for Mum, including herself.

Quote

2011-05-07T16:02:00.002-04:00

“Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.”
—Rimbaud

Looney Tunes: Wild Wife

2011-04-29T23:43:00.011-04:00

Wild Wife (episode 216 from season 48 of Looney Tunes) aired on March 10, 1954. The episode gave us both an idealized snapshot of 1950s domestic life and a cheeky nod to the underlying discontent of the time. It's one of my favorite Looney Tunes episodes: the depiction of 1950s life - both real and sentimental, the animation, the wife's journey and the voices of the actors, all lend to its charm.

Here's a link to view the episode or watch it below:

A description from TV.com:

"A harried housewife is criticized by her male-chauvinist husband, who remarks that she doesn't make effective use of her time during the day and insinuates that she doesn't finish her chores because of laziness. The wife replies by telling of a typical day plagued by a troublesome vacuum cleaner, a long wait in a bank, bulk purchases at a department store, and a parking ticket imposed after city workers suddenly installed a fire hydrant next to the space where she had parked. When her husband refuses to be sympathetic about her long and difficult day, she takes a rolling pin and gives him a swift whack on his head."

Other Wedding

2011-04-29T22:05:00.001-04:00

On Wednesday, 29 July 1981, I awoke at dawn and gathered around the telly with my family and multitudes around the world (well not literally), to watch that other wedding. To arise at such an hour with one's parents and sibling was indeed indicative of some mysteriously grand event. As it happened (in between naps), there was an air of magic to the whole affair: the stuff of daydreams. Rebroadcasts were welcome. Mugs were purchased. Newspaper clippings were gathered and preserved with loving attention albeit not very well...

Oh but it did seem like a fairytale, despite the reality. Through the eyes of a child, indeed.

Quote

2011-04-06T23:46:00.001-04:00

"I was wise enough to never grow up while fooling most people into believing I had."—Margaret Mead

R.I.P Liz

2011-03-23T22:59:00.001-04:00

Elizabeth Taylor, February 27, 1932 – March 23, 2011

When you think back on your childhood conceptualization of Hollywood and all that it entailed, most surely the name Elizabeth Taylor would have a place enshrined within your memory. My earliest memories of her are the black and white glimpses that films of the golden age provided. Over the years Dame Elizabeth became more than just the glamorous lady with legions of ex-husbands, perfume lines and intriguing social circles. She became the compassionate activist who fought for causes and people that were all but shunned in society. We're blessed to have lived during such a time where such a lady existed.

The Siblings Raggedy

2011-03-15T01:20:00.000-04:00

American writer Johnny Gruelle created the iconic rag doll heroine Raggedy Ann for his beloved daughter Marcella, in 1915. Tales of the doll's adventures were published three years later as Raggedy Ann Stories. The exploits of Raggedy Ann's brother, the aptly named Raggedy Andy followed in 1920. Like many children, I discovered the siblings Raggedy by spotting their unmistakable doll-counterparts seated limply (but ever so wide-eyed and amused) on the toy shelf of my kindergarten classroom. It was love and fascination at first sight. Click on the links above to enjoy the original texts and illustrations by Johnny Gruelle.

TVO Launches New Digital Public Archive

2011-02-23T11:20:00.007-05:00

TVO Launches New Digital Public Archive #retro:

"Toronto - TVO is pleased to announce the launch of its new digital Public Archive, a free online resource that unlocks four decades of made-at-TVO educational programming that stands the test of time."

For those of you lovely folks who grew up outside of southern Ontario, TV Ontario or TVO as it is called was that magical childhood place where friends (cartoon, puppet or otherwise) lived. You can be sure that every child within ear shot developed an attachment to one or more of said friends and spent countless hours watching, singing or playing along. Undoubtedly, learning of the new digital and retro archive is one of those jaw dropping and special moments that makes grownups act like children on Saturday morning.

Happy Valentine's Day

2011-02-14T01:01:00.001-05:00

Hope all the "Sweet Baboos" out there have a happy day. Be sure to visit our collection of Valentine's posts for some fun childhood memories.

Suppertime

2011-02-12T19:01:00.000-05:00

Hungry Smurf

2011-02-08T14:52:00.001-05:00

Since Libby's Smurf-A-Getti jingle (circa 1986) has resurfaced in my brother's memory bank and since he has accordingly entertained me with impromptu interpretations of the tune over the past week, it seemed only appropriate to revisit the original ad:

While we're on the subject, here's another Smurfin' and delicious classic circa 1982: an ad for Smurf Berry Crunch cereal. This ditty was legendary in our home:

Mr. Dressup - Theme Song

2011-02-07T18:28:00.004-05:00

This tune can transport you back in time, to old friends and beloved places. The classic theme from Mr. Dressup was composed by Donald Himes (who sadly passed away last month). Unforgettable.

Popeye Cigs

2011-02-02T19:03:00.001-05:00

Before they evolved into politically correct (in other words, a touch more health-oriented and less fun) "candy sticks", Popeye Candy Cigarettes were the stuff of dreams.

Who needed rolled up paper or paper towels (as was customary in my household), when little dreamers, actors, playwrights, goofballs etc. were blessed with the opportunity to fake a cig and chew bubblegum all rolled into one - literally.

The chalky sticks never lead me to smoke a real cigarette, as the adults had feared. They came equipped with red tips to further the illusion of a lighted cigarette. Sometimes when puffing upon one of these priceless relics the chalky substance from which it was made would release a "smokey" vapor-like effect. And thus, elderly aunties and grannies alike could be fooled if only for a few moments, soap operas could be reenacted, and super heroes and their evil counterparts could meet with a bit more panache. Or so it seemed. And that was the fun of it all.

Hats of to the ingenious inventor. Hats off to Popeye, who I only ever saw smoke a pipe.

We're Going to be Friends

2011-02-02T18:12:00.001-05:00

Fall is here, hear the yell
back to school, ring the bell
brand new shoes, walking blues
climb the fence, books and pens
I can tell that we're going to be friends

Walk with me, Suzy Lee
through the park and by the tree
we will rest upon the ground
and look at all the bugs we found
then safely walk to school
without a sound

Well here we are,no one else
we walked to school all by ourselves
there's dirt on our uniforms
from chasing all the ants and worms
we clean up and now its time to learn

Numbers,letters, learn to spell
nouns,and books, and show and tell
at playtime we will throw the ball
back to class, through the hall
teacher marks our height
against the wall

And we don't notice any time pass
we don't notice anything
we sit side by side in every class
teacher thinks that I sound funny
but she likes the way you sing

Tonight I'll dream while I'm in bed
when silly thoughts go through my head
about the bugs and alphabet
and when I wake tomorrow I'll bet
that you and I will walk together again
cause I can tell that we're going to be friends.

- (Jack White) White Stripes

Sleeping Beauty

2011-01-07T19:21:00.000-05:00

A beautifully illustrated version of Sleeping Beauty from Disney's Wonderful World of Reading collection. A gem of a series.

Image: amazon.com

Hi and Lois

2011-01-03T15:28:00.007-05:00

Beware! Children at Play (1972) was the first and only Hi and Lois comic I ever owned and quickly earned a place among my most cherished childhood possessions (Charlie Brown dictionary, Peanuts comics, Snoopy's Holiday Greetings puzzle set, doll house, smurfs, Blueberry Muffin doll, Uncle Arthur's bedtime stories, Disney's Wonderful World of Reading Cinderella story book, Flip and Fold Fashions, Sesame Street's Sleepy Time Bird album, the adventures of Frog and Toad, Highlights magazines, sticker album, fourth grade copy of Anne of Green Gables, Miss Osborne the Mop, Lite Brite, my brother's Star Wars action figures, crayons/pencil crayons, stationary, bangles, friendship beads, play-dough etc). It was another gem brought into our household via Scholastic Books (in the days before Amazon delivered books in delightful brown packages). In elementary school, I read and re-read the little book until the pages became worn and faded. Following their daily adventures—especially the larger, colourized versions at week's end in the Saturday edition of the Toronto Star—the cast of characters aka the Flagston family: Hi, Lois, Chip, Dot, Ditto and Trixie were already well acquainted friends. Simple, everyday stories with a bit of fun and comfort mixed in. Good times—even when read at the crack of dawn under the covers.

The back cover. (images: amazon.com)

Happy New Year

2011-01-01T11:22:00.002-05:00

Image: Rankin/Bass Productions/ABC Family - "Rudolph's Shiny New Year"

Puff the Magic Dragon

2010-12-29T15:01:00.005-05:00

Revisit an old friend:

Image: amazon.com

Merry Christmas

2010-12-25T00:08:00.001-05:00

After hours of preparation, have a good one. You deserve it.

Christmas Time is Here

2010-12-22T18:09:00.000-05:00

Happiness and cheer...

Christmas with the Chipmunks

2010-12-21T14:04:00.004-05:00

'Tis the season for musically inclined rodents - take it away Alvin, Simon and Theodore:

"♫ Christmas, Christmas time is near
Time for toys and time for cheer
We've been good, but we can't last
Hurry Christmas, hurry fast
Want a plane that loops the loop
Me, I want a hula hoop
We can hardly stand the wait
Please Christmas, don't be late. ♫"

A Keaton Christmas

2010-12-19T00:10:00.002-05:00

A Keaton Christmas Carol was broadcast on December 14, 1983. It was yet another adaptation of Dickens' classic tale but the Family Ties version carries a certain charm, that in my opinion escapes many other small screen takes on the exploits of miserly Mr. Scrooge. Fast forward to 1:45 in the first clip to start viewing the episode.

A Christmas Story, another memorable yuletide episode featuring the Keaton clan, hit the airwaves a year earlier on December 15, 1982. The premise: when a winter storm hinders a family ski trip the Keaton household bonds over birth stories in the comfort of their home. Click to watch the episode: part 1, part 2, and part 3.

Walking in the Air

2010-12-16T00:08:00.000-05:00

There's nothing quite like a snowman this time of year. The amount of time you spend rosy-cheeked, fingers frozen to the bone, in frosty (pardon the pun) weather is entirely worth it when your creation is at long last revealed. It's even better when they come to life and fly you around town.

It's cold outside, so why not revisit old friends? Take it away Raymond Briggs: part 1 and part 2.

Quote

2010-12-14T19:00:00.003-05:00

"We look at the world once, in childhood.
The rest is memory." - Louise Gluck

Mole's Christmas: Dulce Domum

2010-12-13T00:19:00.003-05:00

Mole's Christmas is a delightful 1994 animation based on Dulce Domum a beautiful chapter from one of my favourite childhood reads: The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Graham. Dulce Domum translates to "sweet home" or "sweetly at home".

One snowy Christmas eve, along the distant journey back to Ratty's house (after a visit to the Badger's in the Wild Wood), Mole catches the scent of something familiar - his beloved and long lost home at Mole End.

'I know it's a -- shabby, dingy little place,' he sobbed forth at last, brokenly: 'not like -- your cosy quarters -- or Toad's beautiful hall -- or Badger's great house -- but it was my own little home -- and I was fond of it -- and I went away and forgot all about it -- and then I smelt it suddenly -- on the road, when I called and you wouldn't listen, Rat -- and everything came back to me with a rush -- and I wanted it! -- O dear, O dear! -- and when you wouldn't turn back, Ratty -- and I had to leave it, though I was smelling it all the time -- I thought my heart would break. -- We might have just gone and had one look at it, Ratty -- only one look -- it was close by -- but you wouldn't turn back, Ratty, you wouldn't turn back! O dear, O dear!'

The longing for his forgotten little abode overwhelms the gentle chap to tears until his good friend kindly steps in and pledges to help him locate Mole End. Before long Mole and Ratty are settled in, comforted by the warmth of a crackling fire, cups of Blackcurrant cordial, a hearty supper and a merry chorus of giggly, young field mice for company and song.

Dulce Domum is a wonderful read for Christmastime or any moment when one is longing for the comforts of home. Click on the passage above to enjoy the story as written by Kenneth Graham or watch the adapted animation below.

part 2 and part 3.

It's the Simple Things

2010-12-10T22:25:00.000-05:00

We All Shine On

2010-12-08T23:04:00.013-05:00

...because there are lots of beautiful memories of this man to cherish and learn from. It's been 30 years. RIP dear sweet John. Shine on!

The Voice: RIP Mark Dailey

2010-12-06T18:29:00.008-05:00

Mark Dailey was a Toronto reporter, known for his humour, integrity and booming omnipresent voice.

He was unequivocally the voice of the city. When you heard Mark Dailey speak, you knew you were in Toronto. The voice of Toronto was honest, hardworking and trustworthy. It was everywhere even if one wasn't paying attention.

In the mid-70s, after working gigs in Ohio and Detroit, Mark Dailey and his voice arrived in the Canadian city that would embrace him and become his home for over three decades. A few years later when I was amid the rigors of first grade, he started working at CityTV, an exciting local news station, still in its infancy. He was the fedora-wearing crime reporter who was said to "own the streets". He was one of the first in Canada to specialize in crime reporting, helped launch Crime Stoppers in Toronto and covered many high profile cases.

Beloved, revered, iconic and yet Mark Dailey was an everyman who cared about people. He was part of my life since first grade. He was the guy who stopped by everyday to tell us about things: from the relevant to the nonsensical to the tragic. Unforgettable were his mid-afternoon updates and late night anchoring. His humorous mini-narratives that introduced weekly television programs were legendary. It was the voice. That voice. It stopped us in our tracks, much like news of his passing today. RIP Mark Dailey.

images: flickr

Dashing Through the Snow

2010-12-05T13:27:00.002-05:00

The things you see riding on a sleigh this time of year!

Christmas 1985

2010-12-05T13:18:00.006-05:00

During the Christmas of 1985, George Michael was my Justin Bieber. I loved him. His voice. His face. His hair. His dance moves. His music.

His poster graced my locker at school. Such comfort he did provide during those troubling middle school years. Much to my delight, I discovered a best friend that would ride with me through thick and thin, during those in between years of growing up. Not surprisingly, our friendship was sealed within our first conversation:

Her: "What bands do you listen to?"

Me: "I really like Wham." (giggles)

Her: "Me too! (giggles, squeals) George Michael is gorgeous but Andrew is my favourite."

That's all it took in the end. A deep bond was forged. Giggles, shared diary entries, unending phone calls, writing collaborations for soap operas featuring George Michael, Andrew Ridgeley and super models who uncannily resembled the aforementioned BFFs and a multitude of adventures followed.

That Christmas of 1985 when I should have been listening to Last Christmas (Wham's 1984 hit), I was religiously listening to I'm Your Man instead. Why one may ask? The answer is simple: my new found best friend bought me a vinyl 45 RPM of I'm Your Man for Christmas. I was in pre-teen heaven. A step closer to George Michael. Squeals. Gasps. Heaven.

Respite

2010-12-02T00:31:00.005-05:00

The little girl in the image above wears her hair very much like I did as a child. In fact, I feel as though I should investigate some of our childhood photo albums, to see if anything's missing. She seems to be dreaming of that pretty doll up front. There's an air of peace and confidence about her. That doll is hers and she knows it. Peering through shop windows and spotting a magnificent toy - what fun! In the days preceding Christmas, I could often be found religiously studying the Sears Christmas Wish Book, folding over pages that required special attention. The image of the little girl reminds me of what it was like to be little, wide-eyed and utterly overwhelmed that in our cynical world, there was a season where daydreams, hopes and imagination ruled. A wonderful respite, indeed. Bring on the holidays!

Happy Chanukah

2010-12-01T23:14:00.001-05:00

"The holiday of lights is here
Good friends and happiness to share
Sweets with honey for us to eat
Candles to light and friends to greet." (via ReaderKidz)

They lit the first candle on the large menorah at Mel Lastman Square today. The public square in the heart of Toronto's northern most suburb is a hub of activity year round but when Chanukah and Christmas approach, there's an extra special warmth in the air.

I grew up in a diverse neighbourhood settled by immigrants the world over, with traditions galore. Just walking down the street during the holidays, you'll see a marriage of blinking Christmas lights with various sized menorahs and dreidels in shop windows. The aroma of food baking, music blaring, languages reverberating, the collecting and sharing of chocolate coins, Turtles etc: the joy of the holiday season - this is what I grew up with and loved so dearly as a child. . . and still do.

With many good wishes, a very Happy Chanukah to my Jewish friends: may your celebrations bring back sweet memories of childhood!

Space Traveller

2010-11-29T19:16:00.005-05:00

credit: Douglas H. Wheelock, NASA (enlarge image)

Reflections on childhood dreams of space from NASA Astronaut Douglas H. Wheelock who spent the past six months aboard the International Space Station (STS-120, Expedition 24/25). The quote is via his Twitter account and also documented on a space blog entitled Fragile Oasis:

"On this sacred night, when the aurora looked like rain, I reflected back on my childhood dreams of flying a spaceship through the infinite expanse of space... to be among the mosaic of billions of stars, and visit other worlds. Now as I look from space at our planet I realize that had I been born and spent my childhood here in space... how much greater and more vivid my dreams would have been to visit this blue planet."

Happy Birthday Sparky

2010-11-26T14:45:00.001-05:00

On this day in 1922, beloved Peanuts creator, Charles M. Schulz was born in Minnesota.

Night-Muppets

2010-11-22T18:35:00.002-05:00

A Sesame Street version of Edward Hopper's iconic Nighthawks painting - one that is said to depict existential loneliness:

"...the nighthawks of the picture not so much as birds of prey, but simply as birds: great winged creatures that should be free in the sky, but instead are shut in, dazed and miserable, with their heads constantly banging against the glass of the world's callousness. In his Last Poems, A. E. Housman (1859-1936) speaks of being "a stranger and afraid/In a world I never made." That was what Hopper felt - and what he conveys so bitterly."

The Sesame Street version by analogy seems a depiction of that type of loneliness many dazed and confused children feel in childhood. A beautiful and moving take on a classic.