Author Archives: Susan

REGRETS, I’VE HAD A FEW, BUT THEN AGAIN TOO FEW TO MENTION

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I grew up in an Irish Catholic family. There were six children in our family. My fraternal twin sister and I were the youngest, and then I had three older sisters; the oldest one was fifteen years older, and the next two were seven and eight years older than I was. My oldest sibling was my only brother, who was nineteen years older than me.

My childhood home in Maple Shade, NJ

One of the things that I experienced during my childhood was that my family was not big huggers. In fact, I recall very little physical affection from my parents or my siblings. For that matter, it was a rare occasion when my mother or my father told me that they loved me. As for my siblings, I don’t remember them ever showing any affection to me. I’m not saying that they didn’t love each other. I’m saying love and affection were not displayed. I believe at some level that we cared about each other, but we rarely expressed it. I believe that this was a trait that originated within the Irish Culture in Ireland. And since both of my grandparents originated in Ireland, you might say that this lack of showing love or affection was a trait that their parents and their parents and previous generations displayed. And it has occurred to me that if I had grown up in Ireland, this lack of affection might not have affected me so deeply because in Ireland, this is a trait of people in Ireland.

But, since I was born and grew up in America, I knew people and families whose families originated in many other countries. My oldest and best friend’s family was Italian. Her family were affectionate to one another and often expressed verbally their love for one another. I spent a great deal of my childhood at my best friend’s house, and I couldn’t help but notice how often my friend’s mother and father hugged her and told her they loved her. It made me feel sad. I recall asking my mother one day why she and my father didn’t hug me or tell me they loved me. She didn’t really respond to my question. So, for most of my life, I questioned whether my parents loved me.

As I grew up, I came to realize that both my father and mother loved me. And they demonstrated it with their concern and care for my well-being. My mother took care of me when I became ill or if I fell and was injured while playing. She worried about me when I went on bike rides and didn’t come back for hours. She worried when I went to visit my friends and didn’t come back on time for meals. My parents showed their love by enrolling me and my sister and my older sisters in Catholic School for twelve years, which was a financial burden for them. Not to mention that my mother cooked hot meals every day of the twenty years that I lived at my familial home, even when she worked a full-time job.

As I look back over the course of my life, I recognize that I have had difficulty showing my feelings. However, what I have also recognized about my nature is that I have a big heart. That I showed my care and love for people in different ways. Since I was a young girl, my older siblings married moved to their own homes, and started their own families. I found out that I loved being around their children. I enjoyed taking care of them and showing my love for them by hugging them and playing with them. I didn’t have any issues showing affection toward them I loved them as if they were my own younger siblings.

I looked forward to the time when I would fall in love, get married, and have children. And over time, all these events did take place. I had my first child when I was thirty and my second child when I was thirty-four. And I can say without a doubt that there were no two children who were loved more than I loved my daughters. They were not perfect children, and I know I was not the perfect mother. But I love them both with all my heart through the good times and the bad. I also recognize that when they were young, they received many more hugs and kisses than they received when they became adolescents. Adolescents can be like prickly pears.

It was never a matter of me loving them less, but they seemed less able to accept and respond to my affection. Adolescence is a difficult time for both the adolescent and the parents. They are moving forward and away from their families, and perhaps I, along with most parents, attempt to hold on more tightly, perhaps too tightly to them, which causes them to rebel and react negatively.

Parenting an adolescent is perhaps the most difficult challenge anyone can have in their life. Because during that time, adolescents are attempting to move away from childhood and move towards independence. Which is the natural order of things but still a painful time for parents. And a challenging time for adolescents.

I have to admit during my children’s adolescence, there weren’t a lot of hugs and kisses. I regret that, but it is hard to hug someone who makes it their life’s goal to move as far away from you physically and emotionally as they possibly can. And they are just as willing to leave with angry, hateful words.

When I left home at age twenty, I talked to my parents in advance. I was not angry, I still loved them both with my whole heart. I was just ready to move forward in my life and my independence. And that included having started working full-time by the time I was eighteen. I bought my own new car and found an apartment in a town thirty minutes drive from where I grew up. I became responsible for my own expenses, including car insurance, health insurance, rent, and food.

Everyone doesn’t take the same path in life. And life often offers us challenges that are difficult to overcome. Sometimes it is better to take one day at a time, one step at a time. And sometimes, it is better to make that leap of faith in yourself that you are capable of being independent.

On the other hand, growing up doesn’t have to mean growing apart. But sometimes it does. When I was twenty-three, I moved to Florida and got married. Then, my new husband and I moved to Santa Barbara, California, so that he could attend Brooks Institute of Photography. I did not move back to New Jersey for seven years. It was a time of growth, both mentally and emotionally. And I returned a much more independent, mature young woman.

After we arrived back in New Jersey, we stayed with my parent until my husband found a job, and then we decided to buy a small home in Pennsauken, NJ. It was only about a ten-minute drive to Maple Shade, where my parents lived. In fact, my father was one of our first visitors.

When I was thirty years old, I had our first child, and three years later, we had our second child. It was a challenging time for us, and we were so happy and blessed to have my parents in our lives. Becoming a new parent and a stay-at-home Mom for several years was challenging and rewarding. On the other hand, I often felt isolated because I spent most of my time alone with two young children.

When my oldest daughter was in the second grade, and my youngest daughter was in preschool, I made the decision to go to college, and I was accepted at three art schools: Hussian, Moore, and Temple Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia. I decided to attend Tyler School of Art because they offered me a full scholarship for the first year. After the first year, I applied for student loans to continue my education.

The Tyler School of Art 1991

It was difficult balancing going to college and being a wife and mother. But, with the help of friends, I was able to do just that. I graduated at forty-one with a Bachelor of Arts and a teaching certificate. I was in the top ten percent of Temple University in 1991. It was a challenging four years for me, my children, and my family. My oldest daughter was in the fifth grade, and my youngest was in second grade when I graduated. I have to admit it was one of the hardest but most rewarding challenges I ever faced, both for me and my husband and two children. During my four years in college, I spent my time with my children when I was home. After they went to bed at night, I did my school work and studied sometimes long into the night. When I was on school break and during the summer, I spent all my time with my children. It was a growing experience for all of us.

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LIFE IS SHORT MAKE EACH DAY COUNT

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The man skipped, jumped, and ran for short distances as he made his way down the city street. He was on the main thoroughfare, but he could have been anywhere. He seemed to have no real destination in mind. But he was in an awful hurry to get there. Suddenly, he stopped cold and ran to the curb. An old bike was parked on the sidewalk. It was a vintage 1950s red Schwinn Panther. A girl’s bike with a basket on the handlebars and a knee-action spring fork, whitewall tires, chrome-plated fenders, and a slightly rusty chrome-trimmed tank with a built-in horn that had an American Flag attached to it.

In addition to the Flag, the bike is covered with First Prize ribbons of every color and condition imaginable. It must have been a childhood collection of awards for spelling, penmanship, grammar, math, and art. They hung from every surface of the bike. It was quite a sight. He hopped on the bike with a grace that seemed impossible for a man his age. He had a gray, scraggly beard down to his chest. His mustache was waxed and stood out four inches on either side of his rosy cheeks. His hair was long, and he wore it in two braids down his back. There was a tiny flag on each braid. The kind you saw years ago when you ordered a drink at a bar on the Fourth of July.

He continued down the street on the bike at breakneck speed. He started singing loudly. At first, it was difficult to understand because of his speed and his raspy voice. But once he got his momentum up, he sang in a deep baritone voice. He was singing The Fortunate Son by Credence Clearwater Revival. His voice grew louder and stronger as he flew down the street on his two-wheeled chariot. He threw back his head and sang, “Some folks are born made to wave the flag. They’re red, white and blue. And when the band plays Hail to the Chief, they point the cannon at you.”

Suddenly, a voice rang out,” Sam, what’s your hurry? Come on over here, and let’s have breakfast. Sam pulled over to the curb with alacrity and skill. He put the kickstand down and said,” Long time no see you old goat.”

“Look who’s calling me an old goat, Walt. You look like you haven’t taken a good look in the mirror for about fifty years.”

“That sounds about right.”

“Well, so where’s this breakfast going to take place?”

“How about at The Sunny Side Up breakfast place down the street?”

“Can you believe it?

 I just found my bike after two days. Some kid must have grabbed it, drove downtown, and just ditched it.  I don’t know what I do without my Old Glory.

“I bet no one would recognize you without that old bike, Sam. It’s really a collector’s piece, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Walt, but it’s more than that. It’s my connection between the past and the present. That bike belonged to my wife when she was a little girl. God rest her soul.”

“Yes, Marie was a fantastic woman. I don’t know how you were so lucky to marry her. Half the guys in town were in love with her.”

“We had a happy marriage. I have no complaints other than she left me too soon. There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t think of her.”

“So, Sam, what have you been up to lately? I know you are always up to something?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I have been working pretty hard. I got a job repairing the organ in the theater. Well, I’m not just repairing it. I’m restoring it. You know, the one that was used back in the day when Vaudeville used to come to the Pitman Theater. Did you know it’s a player piano as well?”

“No, I didn’t, Sam.”

“Well, Walt, I just started working on it a couple of days ago. But I already found one of the problems. There were some letters hidden under the strings that were inhibiting the percussion of the instrument. The letters looked really old.  It’s possible they even predated the piano. I can’t figure out how they might have ended up where I found them. I believe they might have been deliberately placed there by someone.”

“You’re kidding me, Sam. I would love to take a look at them. Let’s talk about this when we’re eating breakfast.”

As they walked through the door of the Sunny Side Up restaurant, a bell chimed, and Henry Decker, the cook, yelled out,” Sit anywhere you like. Our waitress called out sick. I’ll be there in a few.”

“Hey, so what can I get you guys? What’s going on? It looks like you two both swallowed a canary or two.”

“Well, I’ll have the special, plus two biscuits and a black coffee straight up, thanks.”

“Hey, that sounds good to me. Make that two. Henry.”

“Well, Sam here is about to tell me about some letters he found in the player piano that he’s repairing. I mean restoring the theater. You know that old organ that was used back in the Vaudeville days.”

“You don’t say, what kind of letters?”

“To tell you the truth, I’ve been so busy that I haven’t taken the time to look them over. But they’re all yellow. So, I know they’re old. I’ll let you know once I study them a bit.”

“Ok then, Sam, do that. I’ll be back in a few minutes with your coffee, and then I’ll cook you up some fried eggs and ham, Sam. Get it, fried eggs and ham, Sam?”

“Yeah, ’cause I haven’t heard that a million times before. Get busy. And don’t give up your day job to be a comedian, Henry.”

“Sam, you have always been such a spoilsport. You were an old man before your time. I think you might have been born an old man. Lighten up already, won’t you? So, Sam tells me something about the history of the Theater and the organ.”

“Well, Walt, it’s really kind of interesting. I’d be happy to. The Broadway Theater opened in 1926. Movies but also Vaudeville shows were shown. There were about one thousand seats. Some of the most famous acts and performers played there. Would you believe that Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, Abbot and Costello? Not to mention Jerry Lee Lewis and George Carlin. I really loved George Carlin. And a lot more, real stars.

“That’s really something, right here in our little town of Pitman. I guess people came from all over to see it.”

“I imagine they did. Wouldn’t that be something if we saw all those great performers back in the day?”

“I’ll tell you something, Walt. I really consider it an honor to be repairing that organ. It really is a thing of beauty. Stop by, and I’ll show you what I’ve been doing. It’s not everybody that has the skill to work on a vintage organ like this one. And you can take a look at those letters I was telling you about.”

“Here ya go, fellas, enjoy. I have to keep moving since I’m the staff today. Talk to you later.”

“Come on, Walt, let’s go, that was a great meal. Times a wasting.”

As they walk down Main Street, they run into the editor of the town newspaper. She stops them on their way into the theater. “Hey, guys, what’s happening?”

“Hello Constance, I’m just going to show Walt the Kimball Organ that I’m restoring. Would you like to come along?”

“Sure, I have about a half-hour to kill before my next meeting with the Pitman Historical Society. We are trying to find ways of funding the repairs on the Grove Building, especially the old Methodist Meeting Hall.”

As they step into the main hall, they all stop and look around. Constance exclaims, “Wow, I’m always surprised when I come in here. It’s really something, isn’t it a grand place? Those chandeliers are just breathtaking. You know I really ought to do another pictorial about this place. It’s really coming together. It looks great.”

“Here it is. Oh, Constance, I was telling Walt that one of the reasons the organ wasn’t operating was that there were some old letters preventing the organ from working properly.”

“Really, Sam? Well, let’s have a look at it.”

The three gazed down at the organ. “Yep, just how I remember it. This will be a real centerpiece when you finished, Sam. You are doing a great job here. We all appreciate your time and talent. I bet there aren’t too many people left who would know how to work on this instrument.”

“Thanks, Constance. Oh, here are those letters I was telling you about.”

Constance picks up the letters and begins scanning the top one. “What the? Hey, this sounds like a love letter. It’s signed, your Raymond. Let me see that envelope, Sam. What the… This is Raymond Goldstone Sr. Well, I’ll be dammed Raymond Goldstone, the magician. Wait, who is he writing to? Let me see the first page again. It says, Dear Madeleine. Do you know who that is?”

“No, not offhand, I don’t, but I would guess it is someone that worked in the theater in the late 1920s and early 1930s. I bet you could find out Constance. Don’t you have copies of all the old newspapers from back then?”

“You’re right. We do. Let me see a couple more of the letters, Sam.”

“Sure, here you can take them. They might get lost in here with all the construction that is going on.”

“Sam, Walt, I  have an inspiration. We can publish these letters in The Pitman News and World Report once a month like a serial. People would eat this up. It would get more people from out of town to read and subscribe to the paper. And maybe even bring people to the Theater to see the scene of the crime, so to speak. But I’m going to have to do a lot of research first. This is so exciting; I’m so happy I ran into you two days. I’m really psyched.”

“Hey, do you really think this will work, Constance?”

“You bet I do, and I think we could get this to go national. And then we’re talking big time. Pitman is really going to become famous. Raymond Goldstone, one of the world’s most talented and famous magicians in love with a hometown Pitman lady. I have to go and start doing some research. I’ll let you two know what I found out. Let’s meet again on Monday morning at Sunny Side Up for coffee, and I’ll let you know what or if I found out who our mysterious Madeleine is.”

“Alright, great Sam, Walt, I’m excited about this. It could be the answer to our prayers.”

On Monday morning, Sam and Walt are waiting patiently on the bench outside Sunny Side Up when they see her heading in their direction.

“Hey, guys, sorry I’m late. Something always happens at the last minute when I’m about to go out the door. Oh well, forget about all that. I have some news. I think I have a candidate for our mysterious Madeleine. And perhaps a picture of her. There was Madeleine Summers, who was the costume designer for all the Vaudeville Shows back in the day. Apparently, she was the daughter of one of the founding fathers of Pitman. So, all of this must have been kept under wraps. Her family was very much involved in the Methodist Church.”

 

“You gotta be kidding me. Can you imagine the stink if anyone back then found out about her and Raymond? So, hand it over, I want to see the picture of this femme fatal.”

Wait a minute, and I want to see it too?” Sam chimes in.

Alright, Sam, you too, Walt, take a gander. I imagine she was considered quite the looker back in the day. Was she married?”

“Not that I could find any evidence of, I guess she would have been considered an Old Maid. Of course, people got married young back then. Usually, the man was quite a bit older than the bride.”

“Wow, Connie, she was a looker—the face of an angel. Well, I guess a fallen angel. But still quite a beauty. Those eyes are mesmerizing, indeed quite the looker. Do any of her family live in Pitman live here any longer?”

“Not that I can find any evidence of Walt which is good since we wouldn’t want any descendants causing any trouble. Well. I guess she didn’t have any children, or it would be in the census. At least none that I could find.

“From what I have been able to glean, the last family member was a sibling of Madeleine. One Matilda, who was a few years younger than Madeleine and she never married either. Which is a little weird, but nonetheless? Neither one ever married. So says the court documents I spent three days perusing. Oh, one more thing I found some pictures of Raymond doing his famous cutting a woman in half with a buzz saw. And it looks like she must have filled in a couple of times for his assistant. Take a gander at this.”

“Look at her. That costume must have caused a real stir back then. Weren’t most women still wearing wool bathing suits down to the knees back then?”

“No, I think by the early 1930, ’s Latex was invented, and women wore one-piece latex form-fitting bathing suits. But nothing like this outfit. Walt.”

“Hey, Walt, let me have a look already.”

“Take it easy, Sam, you don’t want to have a stroke or something. It might be more than you can take.”

“Woah, she was a looker, all right.”

“OK, you guys settle down. She passed away in the early 1970s. Apparently, never married. No kids, as I told you before. I don’t know what happened between them.  Or when it ended but I do know that Goldstone toured all over the country for a while and he did some spots on TV. He retired in the early 1950s. He was married and, of course, had a son named after him. Raymond Goldstone Jr., was a magician as well. I guess you could call it a family business.”

“Connie, is there any indication in the letters that his wife knew about what was going on between Harry Sr. and Madeleine?”

“No, Walt, not in any of the letters. But I did find out that Goldstone Sr. was married three times. So, I don’t know the timeline of these marriages. But back then, three times was not all that common. But if you are a famous magician and you travel all the time. Well, you get lonely. And women are sometimes attracted to famous and glamorous people. And a magician, you can expect many women would be flattered by his attention.”

“Well, Connie, what do you think about publishing one of the letters?”

“Walt, I think we could do that without revealing the names of the Blackstone and Madeleine. See if we get any response from the readers. Let me get one of the first letters, and you can publish it. See what happens. Here’s one that I think will get some attention and not too risqué.”

Dear Ray, I miss you so much. Each moment without you feels like an eternity. I feel like I have known you all my life. You understand me like no other person I’ve ever known. You brought such magic and light into my life. And without you, there is only darkness. I miss your magical touch. I miss your breath against my skin. I have never trusted anyone as I trust you with my heart, my soul. Every part of me yearns for you. Every minute of my life is a moment wasted without you in it. The distance between us might as well be the distance between the Earth and the sun. There is only a void where you once lie next to me. Please, my love, tell me when I can see you again. Where can we meet? Just say the word, and I will be there.  Love, Maddy.

“Walt, what do you think? How about you, Sam? Should I go ahead and print it? No names; maybe we could give some hints about the time and circumstances surrounding this affair. And let people guess their identities. What do you two think?”

“Go for it. Connie.”

“Yeah, as Walt says, go for it.”

“Connie, let me and Sam know what kind of feedback you have about the story. “

“Alright, I will, and if I have any news between now and our next meeting, I’ll contact you.”

“Great, Connie, we’ll see you next week, same place, same time. Take Care.”

“Bye Walt, bye Sam, see you soon.”

The following Friday night, Connie gives Walt a call. “Hello, Walt, this is Connie. I’m glad I caught you at home. I don’t know if you read the Pitman News and World Report this past week, but I published the article. And I included the love letter. And my phone hasn’t stopped ringing all week. You know what a sleepy town Pitman is? Well, get ready because things are going to get exciting really soon.”

“Exciting, in what way, Connie?”

“Walt, well, get this; one of the former residents of Pitman still gets the Pitman News, and World Report sent to her in the mail. And she has been living in New York City for the past five years. She happens to work on Fifth Avenue, and she is an actress. And she’s doing a play on 42nd Street. She knows a lot of famous people in the City.

“Yeah, so what?

“So, she contacted a writer for the New York Times that she dated for a while. And, he loved the story, and he’s going to be coming here to talk to guess who?”

“OK, Connie, I’ll bite. Who does he want to talk to?”

“Oh, Walt, us. What do you think? You, me, and Sam.”

“And if he likes what he hears and sees, the story could go national. And then, who knows what will happen? It could really put Pitman on the map. And our theater will really get some attention then. How about we meet for breakfast in the middle of the week? Say on Thursday and discuss any new possibilities. And Walt, we can then go with you to the theater and see how the renovations are coming along.”

 On Thursday morning at nine o’clock sharp, Sam arrives on his bike, and Walt pulls up to the curb in his 1957 mint condition Cherry-red Chevy Bel Air two-door hardtop. “Hey, guys and gals. I’m really enjoying getting out and eating breakfast with you two. Since I usually spend most of the day alone working in the theater on the piano.”

“Hello Sam, I must say I’m enjoying the break too. I rarely get to sit down and eat. I usually eat takeout on my way from one place to another. So, Sam, how are the renovations on the piano going anyway?”

“Connie, things are going along swimmingly. In fact, I will soon be finished. You were so wired about Raymond Goldstone and the woman. You haven’t asked about the player piano in a while. I have made some real headway. I believe I will have it back in working condition in a couple of weeks. It has been really challenging too. I don’t think I mentioned it before, but this piano is unique. It is actually a 3/8 Kimball theatre pipe organ. A unique instrument, considering its size. Did you know there is a pipe organ blower room in the basement? I had to replace some of the pipes.”

 “That’s fantastic, Sam; I’m proud of you. Not too many people with your skills around anymore, pretty much a lost art.”

“Thanks, Connie, and I have enjoyed every minute of it. Hey, my stomach is growling.”

“Speaking of which, you two, I already ordered breakfast for the three of us. Since we always get the same thing. It should be ready in a moment or two. Let’s go in.

 “Connie, maybe you should get the newspaper’s photographer out to the theater and take some pictures of the theater and the player piano. It would be great publicity. And everyone should be informed of the great work our hometown boy here, Sam, has done.”

“You’re right, Walt, that’s a great idea. But do you really think there is a photographer on the Pitman News and World Report’s staff?”

“Isn’t there?”

“Oh, you got to be kidding me, Walt? I’m the writer and the editor and the publisher and the photographer. I run the whole thing from top to bottom.”

“You’re kidding, I didn’t realize that. You are a walking, talking dynamo. Aren’t you, Connie?”

“Yeah, Walt, that’s me, the human dynamo.”

“Oh wait, less talk and more eating; here comes our food. I’m starved.” Sam interjects.

“Well, that really hit the spot. Do you want to split the bill or what?”

“Sam, Connie, let me take care of this. And I think we should see how your piano is coming and the restoration of the theater. It might be possible that we’ll be holding a celebration in the theater. If everything goes the way, I hope it will. Let’s go.”

“I’ll take care of the tip, Sam and Walt. Let’s hit the road.”

 “So, here we are, times a waste. Well, Connie and Walt, do you notice anything different about the front of the Theater? No, well, why don’t you cross the other side of Broadway and take a look at the Marquee? Alright, do you see anything different from over there?”

“Wow, this is fantastic. It says, “Grand Reopening on May 18th.” Wait, isn’t that the day the Spring Craft Fair begins this year? What a great idea, at least 10,000 people come to the fair.”

“Yeah, that’s right, Walt, that was my idea because I knew the piano would be ready and the renovations will be completed this week. Can you believe it? Come on, let’s go in, and you can take a gander. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

As they walk into the vestibule, Walt and Connie stand in awe staring at the chandeliers. The lights are sparkling through the crystals and sending rays of light on the ceiling and the walls. The plaster molding is intact and painted in the original colors.

“Sam, it really looks gorgeous. Is this new carpet on the floor?”

“Nope, we had a specialty company that cleans vintage rugs come in and clean all the carpets and made a few repairs. They really did an amazing job. And the best thing is that they didn’t charge anything because we are going to set up a table for them at the craft fair.

You know there are a lot of people here in Pitman living in Victorian Houses that have vintage carpets and can use their service. Plus, they are going to advertise in the newspaper and on the internet and use pictures of the Theater.”

“Well, what about the molding? It looks new?”

“Connie, I think I mentioned before they found the original molds in the basement of the theater. And we hired a plasterer in Mullica Hill to make molding from the original molds to replace the damaged ones. Don’t they look great?”

“Ok, so let’s go look inside the theater. I left the lights on so you would get the full effect of the Victorian lighting and the stage lit up around the piano and the orchestra pit.”

“Tada, kind of magical, isn’t it?”

“Yes, you can say that again Sam. It is absolutely magical. Just the effect we wanted it to have when it is shown to the public.”

“Alright, take a seat, and I’ll turn down the lights and turn on the piano. Close your eyes. I’ll tell you when I want you to look.”

Sam makes his way behind the stage and hits the lights on the orchestra pit, and then comes on stage and turns on the player piano. As Walt and Connie look about in awe, they hear. “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” soundtrack. And they start clapping. And then they see a movie screen descends, and There is Judy Garland singing her heart out.

“Oh, Sam, I am so impressed. The theater looks amazing. And Judy Garland up there on the screen, who could top her?”

“Here’s my baby, and the surprise is, she’s finished, completely restored to her grand self. Here’s a little background information just in case you don’t realize how awesome this piano is. First of all, it is a self-playing piano. It has a mechanism that operates and controls the piano with pre-recorded music on this perforated paper called rolls. And this beauty here is also a pipe organ. And as I mentioned before, there is a blower room in the basement. It’s now in excellent condition, and the piano had no vacuum leaks. I was able to contact The QRS Company out of Buffalo, New York, and I ordered all new rolls.”

“Congratulations, Sam, you have really surpassed our expectations.”

“Thanks, Connie it was challenging, and I’m proud of myself. I have already received two calls from prospective clients who would like me to see if I can get their player pianos in working order.”

“Oh Sam, let me get some pictures of you and this beautiful player piano that’s also a pipe organ. Why don’t you stand next to the piano? And that way, we get the piano in all of its beauty next to one of the few people who could have resurrected it. Wonderful, I have some great shots to choose from for the paper this week.

—–“Great job, Sam. I knew you had it in you. Let’s go take a look at the rest of the theater. And see how much progress has been made.”

“I have to make a stop in the ladies’ room, guys. I’ll meet you in the lobby in a few minutes. And then I have some news to tell you.”

“Sure, Connie, take your time; we’ll wait for you.”

“Thanks, guy. I won’t be long.”

Walt and Sam are walking around the lobby, looking at all the subtle changes that have occurred since the renovation began. “Oh, Walt, look over here at the snack counter. They found an original popcorn popper from the early 1920s and get this a cotton candy machine.”

“Oh, Sam, they are really awesome. They are going to blow people away and look at all that candy. Including some of my favorites, red hot dollars, candy buttons, watermelon slices, green leaves, licorice whips, and my very favorite sugar daddies. I feel a sugar rush just looking at all this candy.”

“Oh, hey guys, sorry to take so long. Well, it really looks great. Look at all that candy. You know, when I was a kid, I practically ruined my teeth with all the candy I ate. At Halloween, I used to go out Trick or Treating until ten o’clock at night. I had a pillowcase, and I would fill it to the top. Then the next day I would eat so much of it. I would feel sick.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“You can add my name to that list to Connie and Walt. I was a candyholic. So, what’s the big surprise, Connie?”

“OK, hold on, this is going to make the top of your head blow off. Ready…”

“Yeah, we’re ready. Tell us already, Connie.”

“Well, a few weeks back, I mentioned that I knew a guy who knew a guy who worked on the NY Times, and he wrote an article about what we are doing here in Pitman Theater. And he mentioned all the famous people that played in our little town. And guess what???”

“What already? What do you want a drum roll?” asked Walt.

“Couldn’t hurt Walt. Well, one of his readers is distantly related to our own Raymond Goldstone, and he has agreed to come to Pitman the day of the grand reopening, and he inherited all that remains of the Goldstone’s magic box, including the buzz saw. And get this, he is a magician, and he is willing to perform some of his magic in our own little Pitman Theater. That’s right here in person the day of the Grand Reopening and the Pitman Craft Show. Ta Da.”

“Holy Mackerel, this is absolutely awesome. This is going to put our town on the map.”

“Yeah, it will, and I am going to advertise this event from now until the Big Day—all thanks to our buddy here, Sam. Who has turned out to be quite the magician himself. Take a bow, buddy. You are our hero. Take a bow, Sam, you deserve it.”

And with that, Sam took a deep bow. His face is as red as a beet. He never felt this good in his whole life. His smile reaches from ear to ear. And the day of the Craft Fair, people come from far and wide and had to be bussed from all the small towns around Pitman. There isn’t a single parking spot left for miles. Over forty thousand people showed up. And it did indeed put the little town of Pitman on the map.

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THE UNEXPECTED PEN PAL

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I was staring out my kitchen window at the rain that was pouring down hard. In fact, it looked like the wind was picking up because the trees were swaying back and forth. Some people love the rain, but I’m not one of them. And this rain looked, for all intents and purposes, as if it might turn into a hurricane. As it was hurricane season, I thought I should get myself in gear and prepare myself for the worst.

I was about to close the curtain and get busy when I saw a lone figure struggling to walk up to my driveway. I realized it was our mailman. He was wearing a long raincoat in an attempt to keep dry, but his head was bare, and the torrential rain was pouring down his face. He slowly made his way up my driveway. His hair was plastered to his balding head. He pulled open the door of my mailbox and shoved the letters, or most likely bills, into the box. And then slammed the door closed again with all his might. And then, he slowly made his way across the street to my neighbor’s house and repeated the same painful procedure with our new neighbor Brent’s mailbox.

In the back of my mind, I said, “god, what an awful job. Walking up and down the lonely streets, shoving mail in people’s mailboxes day in and day out until you’re old enough to retire. Then, he would be sitting at home looking out the window for his mailman to deliver his letters, bills, and useless advertisements. Life can often be mind-numbing. 

I considered making a run for it and grabbing my mail, but I decided to wait for the downpour to subside. About forty-five minutes later, I realized that I hadn’t heard the rain pounding on the windows for a while. I went into the kitchen and looked out the window. And sure enough, it had stopped raining. I double-timed it to the mailbox and pulled open the door. And to my surprise, there were about ten pieces of mail. I know this will sound weird, but for some reason, I’ve always looked forward to getting my mail every day. I know that seems weird, but my life holds a few surprises for me. Each day follows one another. And my routine rarely varies.

As I head back into my house, I notice that one piece of mail doesn’t look like a bill at all. And I thought, oh, I must have gotten someone else’s mail by mistake. It happens occasionally. I arrived inside my house unscathed and only slightly damp. I plopped the mail down on the kitchen table and grabbed my cup of tea off the counter. I briefly leafed through the mail and was about to go back to paying my bills when I noticed an envelope with a stamp that wasn’t from America. I checked the front of the letter again, and sure enough, it was addressed to me. How strange and unexpected.

I put the envelope up to the kitchen window to see if I could read any part of it. But, no, I couldn’t see a thing. So, I went over to the kitchen drawer and grabbed a small knife. And I carefully opened the top of the envelope since I wanted to keep the envelope intact. The return address on the envelope seemed vaguely familiar. But I couldn’t remember where I had heard the name before.

As I unfolded the letter, I looked at the date. And it had been mailed four days ago. And then I recognized the stamp. Lo and behold, the letter had been mailed from Ireland. I sat there dumbfounded and said out loud….”Well, who in the world is this from?”

As I opened the letter, I noticed that it was handwritten in beautiful script. It’s so unusual to receive a letter that is handwritten nowadays. Since most people either type the letter on their computer and print it out, or they avoid snail mail altogether and use email. For some reason, the handwriting looked familiar, but I couldn’t imagine who it was from.

It was signed by Kelly O’Brian. At first, I couldn’t quite a place who Kelly O” Brian was. And then it dawned on me. I used to have a penpal long ago when I was young. And we communicated for many years. That is until I graduated from high school and started attending college at Temple University in Philadelphia. Pa. After that, we lost touch. And I guess over time, the whole experience faded away.

As I began to read the letter, it dawned on me that the Kelly who wrote me this letter was indeed my old pen pal from when I was just a kid. Only now she was married, and her name was Kelly Rafferty. Well, what in the world could this be all about? I couldn’t imagine why she was contacting me after so many years had passed by.

I began reading the letter, trying to take it all in. It was such an unexpected surprise as I hadn’t heard from or spoken to Kelly for so long. I tried to remember just why she and I had stopped communicating. And the only reason I could recall is that we were both entering college, and I guess what with college classes and making new friends over time, we just stopped writing. I wish that hadn’t happened, but it did. 

And now here she was contacting me. I don’t know how she found my current address, but somehow she did. It seems as if she had become a writer of short stories and had several fictional novels published. She named several, and I thought, Wow, that’s amazing. I knew she was a fabulous writer just from the letters she wrote me and described in such detail where she lived her family, and her great love of Ireland. In fact, one of the books she published was based on our long-term friendship via letter writing. She said, in her fictional version of our letter-writing friendship, we eventually met.

She went on to say that she was wondering if I was up to a visit from her since her book was going to be published in the United States as well. And she was going to be in New York in two weeks. She wasn’t sure how long she would be visiting the USA. But she would really like to see me. I didn’t answer her right away. I was somewhat taken aback by this unexpected event. My life is and always has been predictable. I work nine to five, then I cook dinner, watch TV, and go to bed. On the weekends, I read or watched old movies. The only variation I have in my daily life is on my two weeks of vacation. I go to Atlantic City for two weeks.

I walk up and down the boardwalk in the morning and then again after I eat dinner. Occasionally, I go to the casinos. Usually, I play the slots. Last year, I actually won five hundred dollars and almost went out of my mind with excitement. I jumped up and down, yelling I won, I won. A crowd gathered and kept yelling, “How much, how much?” And when I finally calmed down, I said, ten thousand dollars.

And they all cheered. It took me a full two days to finally settle down and stop telling everybody I saw on the boardwalk how much I won. The only reason I stopped was because an old lady came over to me and said, “Dear, you should stop telling everyone you won a lot of money, or someone is going to rob you blind. I looked at her, and I thought she was absolutely right, I must have lost my mind temporarily. And she was the last person I talked to about that money. When I got home, I went to my bank and deposited the mullah in my savings account.

And I hadn’t taken a vacation since then. I thought, well, why the hell shouldn’t I take a couple of weeks off? And visit with an old friend, especially one that I have never met in person before. So, I finally wrote back and responded, “You know, I think that is a fantastic idea.” So, I gave her my email and told her to send me her traveling plans and where and when we could meet. I would make a reservation at the nearest hotel, or she could stay at my tiny apartment if she wanted to. And then we could spend her time in New York City together.

At first, I was a little overwhelmed by the whole unexpected event. And then, after a couple of days, I was stoked about the whole upcoming visit. I started making plans for our time together. The days up to the visit passed slowly. But finally, her arrival date was only a day away. I took the next train to New York City, checked in at the hotel, and made my way to the JFK airport. It was unbelievably crowded, but I tried to keep my cool. I made my way to Terminal 4, where the International Flights land.

When it was almost time for her flight to land, I started getting somewhat anxious and excited at the same time. I wondered if I would even recognize her. Since I hadn’t seen pictures of her when she was only a teenager. I wondered if she would recognize me. She told me she would be wearing all green, including wearing a Shamrock on her jacket. The flight was about twenty minutes late because the plane encountered turbulence because of storms.

I was staring out the window, waiting for her plane to land, when I heard over the intercom that her flight would be landing in fifteen minutes. I planned on taking her to McDonald’s because Kelly felt that it best represented American food if you can believe that.

The next thing I knew, her flight was deplaning, and the passengers were coming off the plane into the waiting area. I stared intently at all the passengers who might be her. Finally, I saw a young woman about my age, and she was wearing a somewhat hideous green jacket with a giant shamrock on it. I laughed out loud. I started waving at her like a madwoman. And soon enough, she started walking towards me. And when she was a couple of feet away from me, we both walked toward each other and hugged. I said, “I would have recognized you anywhere.” And we both started to laugh because if she weren’t wearing that giant shamrock, I wouldn’t have known her at all. “Dolores, I wouldn’t have recognized you at all, either. Time does fly by, doesn’t it?”
As soon as we were able to stop laughing, we hugged again, and I said,” Do you have any other luggage?”

And she said, “No, just this small bag. If I have to, I can buy some clothes here.”

“Well, maybe not here in New York City. But, perhaps in the suburbs..The stores here are quite expensive. “Well, I do have my heart set on bringing home some couture NYC designer clothing.

“Really, OK if that’s what you want.” Let’s head outside. We have to take a tram to the parking lot, and then we have to find my car. It will be a bit of a walk, I’m afraid. This is a really big airport.”

“No problem. It was a long flight, and I’ll be relieved to stretch my legs. By the way, I don’t know I would have recognized you either if you weren’t waving your arms like a maniac. And then she laughed and laughed. Let’s go, shall we?”

We arrived at the parking area relatively unscathed. Even though people bumped into us in a hurry to get on or off the tram. And then I was hit in the head by someone’s suitcase when they were pulling it off the overhead rack. I thought it would kill me. It was so heavy. God knows what or who she had jammed in that suitcase. It must have weighed twenty or more pounds. And when it hit me, I screamed at the top of my lungs, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, look where you’re going. You almost killed me.” Everyone in the tram laughed their heads off. Which only served to make me madder and madder. And then I yelled at them and said, “And you can all go straight to hell.”

“Well, Dolores, you always told me you had one hell of a temper, and you do. You would feel right at home in Ireland, as you probably know the Irish are known for their temper.”

“Really, well, maybe all those years of you and me writing to each other. I picked up your temper through osmoses.”

“Oz, what?” And then Kelly laughed and laughed. And they finally arrived at the parking facility. And luckily, we found my car right away. The ride back to my apartment was bumper to bumper, as usual. And it was full of New York drivers who didn’t have a lot of patience either. And they were bumping and yelling at one another as we headed to my apartment. We were near my building, and I scanned the street up and down. I saw someone pulling out of a parking spot and gunned my gas to get to the parking spot as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, someone coming from the opposite direction did the same thing. But my car was smaller than theirs, and I managed to pull into the spot like my pants were on fire.

“Dear god.“ Kelly screamed at the top of her lungs. I looked over at her and said, “What’s the matter? What are you screaming about?”

“She looked at me like I was stark raving mad. You almost got us killed.”

“What? No, that’s just everyday driving in New York City. Welcome to America. LOL

 

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NASTY NEIGHBOR

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Sebastian slowly made his way down Main Street toward the bakery. He was looking forward to a breakfast of fresh, homemade bagels and cream cheese. He favored his right leg, as he had injured it many years ago, and it was never the same. When in the distance, he saw one of his neighbors one Jeffrey Duggins, walking towards him. Sebastian considered turning around and returning back home. He always got a bad vibe whenever he came within shouting distance of his neighbor, Jeffrey.

In fact, at times, he felt that his very life was at risk if he rubbed Jeffrey the wrong way. And as far as he could tell, everything he had ever said to Jeffrey seemed to set him off. Sebastian could say the most innocuous thing, and Jeffrey would read something nefarious into it. One day, he said, “Hello, Jeffrey. How’s it going? Did your trash get picked up yesterday? They never picked mine up?”

Jeffrey’s face distorted into an angry mask. And then he shouted,” What the hell is your problem? You’re always complaining every time you talk to me. How the hell would I know if everyone had their trash picked up or not?” Sebastian stared at Jeffrey, flabbergasted, and then shook his head, trying to clear his mind. And then Sebastian quietly crossed the street. He vowed silently to himself that in the future he would avoid any interaction with Jeffrey in the future. The guy had some serious issues, and Sebastian didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger. Jeffrey was a real nutter, for sure. Sebastian often wondered what excessive lengths that Jeffrey had gone to with other people who made some harmless comment to Jeffrey.

As Sebastian crossed the street, he shook his head and thought, what in the world would make a man of Jeffrey’s advanced age act so angry and belligerent for no reason at all? Sebastian continued on his walk. And just as he was about to cross the street to his house, it occurred to him that perhaps Jeffrey’s unfriendly behavior was deliberate. And his ultimate goal was to avoid any interaction with anyone. So as not to ignite any interest or curiosity about him with any of his neighbors or people in general. Sebastian crossed the street and made the decision to ignore or avoid Jeffrey in the future. He was a bad egg, that’s for sure. As he open his back door, he could smell what could only be his wife’s delicious breakfast waiting for him on the kitchen table. There was a cover over it. His wife was several years younger than he, and she still worked part-time.

Sebastian sat down to eat his breakfast and thought, where did all the years go? How did his life fly by so quickly in the blink of an eye? This was supposed to be a time to relax and enjoy life, doing the things you loved to do and didn’t have time for during your working years. And here he was, sitting at his kitchen table, worrying about what he could and couldn’t do because he didn’t wish to awaken the Jeffrey’s ire and directing that anger towards him.

While Sebastian was sitting at the table, it occurred to him that perhaps he could invite Jeffrey over for dinner one night would win him over. His wife was a fantastic cook, and she was known to be quite the charmer with people. She could take the most unfriendly and belligerent person and win them over with her friend chicken, homemade mashed potatoes, and one of her world-famous chocolate cakes.

And the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. But, he would have to get his wife, Millie, to go along with it. She kept telling him to leave her out of this whole business with our nasty, old so-and-so neighbor. She didn’t think he was worth the trouble. And then he thought he would take a walk over to the florist downtown and buy her a dozen red roses. They were her favorite, and she wouldn’t be able to say no after smelling them and putting them in her favorite crystal vase in the middle of the dining room table.

As Sebastian was on his way home from the florist, who should he see but Jeffrey coming from the opposite direction? There was really no way to avoid him other than quickly reversing his direction and running away. And Sebastian was way past that kind of shenanigans. So, he took a deep breath and kept walking. And then he felt someone staring at him. And who was it but none other than Jeffrey? Maybe Jeffrey would keep walking and cross the street? But no, he kept walking in his direction. And

Sebastian could feel his cold stare on him. And as he got closer, Jeffrey said, “Are you stalking me now?”

“Me? Stalking you? Why in the world would I do that? Listen, I haven’t done not one thing to you. You are the one causing conflicts in our neighborhood. You antagonize everyone you come in contact with around our neighborhood. Everyone else avoids you. You are obnoxious and cause conflict with everyone. Stop blaming your behavior on everyone else. You don’t have to talk to anyone. Just mind your own business. Nobody cares what you do. Just leave everyone else alone. And then there won’t be any further problems.”

“Yeah, I bet the whole neighborhood would love to see me fall off a cliff. I guess that would make you happy, wouldn’t it?”

“No, Jeffrey, I never wished you or anyone else any harm. I have tried being friendly to you since we moved here. And you put up a literal brick wall between our two properties. And that sure doesn’t say, “Welcome to the neighborhood to me.”

Jeffrey stood there with a strange expression on his face for several minutes. It seemed like a year to Sebastian. He was about to say something else to Jeffrey, but for the life of him, he didn’t know what to say. He was getting tired of the whole situation, including the friction in the neighborhood where he hoped to live out his final years.

“Well, Sebastian, that’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s my name. I introduced myself to you right after we moved in, and you just walked away from me without saying a word.”
“Well, yes, I guess I did. I didn’t want to go through the whole rejection scenario again. It’s getting old. I thought it would be better to reject you instead of the other way around.”

“Well, that didn’t turn out too well, did it?
“No, Sebastian, it didn’t. But, I have a tendency to be bull-headed, and once I get an idea in my head, it’s hard for me to change my mind.”

“OK, well, that’s a beginning; how about we start over? My wife and I would like to invite you to dinner. How about Saturday evening? It’s my wife’s day off, and she is a fabulous cook. What do you say?”

“ I say, what time? My wife was a great cook too. But she passed away about ten years ago from cancer. And I guess that’s when I gave up on life. It just felt so empty without her by my side. And when I saw everyone in the neighborhood going out and having fun with their families, it just made me madder and madder. We were never able to have kids, and I’ve just been alone all these years. And I guess I resented everyone else’s happiness. I know that doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, Jeffrey, I’m so sorry you lost your wife. That is a big loss. It would affect everyone who lost their closest loved one. But you just made it worse by pushing everyone away who tried to befriend you all these years. Your wife wouldn’t want you to be miserable all these years. So, why don’t we start over, and you come over tonight for a great dinner? And then maybe in a few weeks, you will feel up to coming to a neighborhood bar-b-que. There is no reason on earth for you to spend your remaining year lonely and unhappy, and angry. So, how about it? Are you interested?”

“ Yes, I would like to come over and have dinner. It’s been a long, long time since I had a home-cooked meal. I eat mostly take-out or frozen dinners.” 

“Alright then, let’s head home, and you can come over to our house at six o’clock sharp. What do you say?”

“ I say, I’ll be there with bells on my feet.” And they continued home, and Sebastian started telling Jeffrey what he had done for a living while they were walking home. And Jeffrey was surprised to find out that they had similar occupations. And he started telling Sebastian about his early years after he and his wife were first married. It turned out that they had many things in common.

 

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YOU HAVE ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD

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I‘m flat broke. And unfortunately, I was recently laid off from my job. It was not the first time this happened to me. But what can I say? I’m just unlucky. My former boss informed me last Friday that he was going to let me go. Because I was unreliable. I frequently called out sick, and also, when I did come to work, I was almost always late. And that when I did go to work that I was always late returning after lunch.

I tried to reinforce to him that I was not unreliable. I was unlucky. Didn’t he ever hear that bad things happen to good people? Apparently, he didn’t. He told me that this was his last warning if I came in late one more time or I called out altogether. I might as well quit because when I finally did come in, I was going to be fired. I reassured myself that this was not the first time he has said this to me. And I took this as just another warning and that there was no way in hell that he was going actually to fire me. After all, I have been a loyal employee for over ten years. And I was one of his best workers.

And then more bad luck headed my way. I was on my way out the door when I got a call that my younger brother needed a ride to school. We were only half-brothers as he had a different father. In fact, my mother has been married more times than I can count. And she has had six children, all of whom have a different father. I kid you not. Why in the world would anyone who obviously is really bad at commitment and marriage keep repeating the same mistake over and over again? I’m the oldest sibling, and I felt some responsibility for my younger siblings. After all, none of their fathers are around. So, off I went to pick up my brother and take him to school. He was in his senior year of high school. And I remember only too well how important that senior year of high school was to me.

Thirty minutes later, I arrived at my mom’s house. I expected my brother to be standing outside the front door waiting for me. But, no, he wasn’t outside waiting for me. I jumped out of my car and sprinted up to the front door. I turned the knob, and alas, the door was locked. I rang the doorbell several times. Nada. I banged as hard as I could on the door and the window next to it. I didn’t see anyone. And then I saw a piece of paper on the ground next to the front step. Apparently, it was stuck on the door but fell down. I picked it up. It read, “Charlie, my friend Olaf came and picked me up. Sorry for causing you any trouble. Talk to you later. And it was signed by your ever-loving brother, Nick.

I felt my blood pressure hit the ceiling. I was going to be late again. I would surely lose my job. My brother Nick was so unreliable. Why the hell didn’t he pick up the phone and call my cell and tell me he didn’t need me to take him to school? I was so mad I thought I might explode. God, why are so many people so unreliable? I will never understand it. I ran back to my car, and I was about to get behind the wheel when I noticed that my left rear time was flat. This was absolutely the last straw. I was surely going to get fired the moment I stepped through the front door of my office. I considered my situation and tried to think of some excuse my boss would except. And I couldn’t think of one single thing to tell him that I hadn’t said before.

I got out the spare tire and tools from my trunk and set about replacing the flat tire. It was getting hot outside, and I started sweating like a pig. I heard myself grunting too. I kept going. Finally, I finished putting on the spare tire and threw my tools into the trunk. Then I jumped into the front seat. I glanced in the rearview mirror, and I hardly recognized myself. I saw a red-faced, sweaty middle-aged man who looked like his better days were way, way behind him. I almost started crying. Can you imagine a full-grown middle-aged man crying in his beat-up fifteen-year-old car? And then I thought, I’ll tell my boss that I stopped to help a woman whose car broke down and that is why I was late and filthy. 

Yes, that is what I would do. I’m not a very good liar, but what the hell did I have to lose? I was going to get fired for sure, just for being late. So, off I went.

I tried to drive under the speed limit, but I kept looking at the dashboard to check the time, and the next thing I know, I had run a red light. And then I heard a police siren behind me, and the red light on the police car was flashing. I said out loud, “Oh, oh, looks like somebody is in trouble.” And, low and behold, someone was in trouble. And guess what? It was me. I was dead meat.

Or I would be by the end of the day for sure. I pulled over. And I saw a cop that looked like he was about seven foot tall headed my way. And he didn’t look happy or even mildly amused. He looked mad as hell. He looked like he was ready to pull his weapon and put me out of my misery. I almost felt like telling him, “Just kill me already. I can’t take anymore. Just shoot me and get it over already.”

And guess what? That is exactly what I said, “So, officer, just kill me already. I can’t take anymore. I’m going to be fired for being late for work once too many times. So, take out that big, old gun of yours and pull the trigger. You’ll be doing me a favor. I’m done. I can’t take anymore. Just do it. I’ll even close my eyes.” And that was the last thing I remember until I woke up two days later.

I opened my eyes, and I was in a room that I didn’t recognize. It was a sickly shade of green. And there was an IV attached to my left arm, and some bluish liquid was being pumped into my arm. I looked around, and there was another guy in the bed next to mine. And he was tied to his bed and in four-point restraints. I yelled, “What in the name of god is going on here? Let me out of this bed. I’m not hurt. Let me go.”

“Mr. Darnell, Charlie, calm down. Let me explain where you are and what has happened to you.”

“You were involved in an altercation of sorts with a policeman. Well, actually, it was a state trooper. You tried to take his gun away from him, which is not a good idea under any circumstances. Apparently, you were getting a ticket for unsafe driving and threatening the trooper to allow you to get on your way to work because you thought you were going to get fired for being late again. Do you remember this experience at all?” 

“No, I do not. You must be mistaken. I can not imagine any circumstances where I would handle a gun, let alone take a loaded weapon away from a state trooper. This is some unfortunate misunderstanding or mix-up. You have to let me go. I am going to be fired for sure if I’m late again.”

“ Sir, you have been here for over ten days. Your behavior was out of control. You fought and struggled with the doctors and anyone else that tried to help you get under control. You are on a thirty-day hold. You may very well be sent to the state hospital, Ancora.”

“What, Ancora???” You are the one who is out of his mind. I demand to speak to my attorney and see my family immediately. This is against the law to hold someone against their will.”

“No, sir, it is certainly within our rights to remand an out-of-control person who attacks a policy trooper or officer and threatens them with bodily harm. So, you need to calm down and try to think rationally. Your therapist will be stopping by in the next hour or so to check on you. Try to stay calm if you start acting out physically again. You will find yourself under heavy sedation and put in four-point restraints. I kid you not. Do you understand now?”

“Yes, I understand. I will calm down. I will not threaten anyone with harm. I made a mistake in judgment, that is all. Can I please talk to my doctor or my family or at least talk to my mother on the phone? She is highly reliant on me, and she must be out of her mind with worry.

“Your family will be visiting in good time. But not all at once, one person at a time. Do you understand? And you must stay calm, or they will not be allowed to visit again for a long, long time. Understand?”

“How long is a long, long time?”
“ It could be up to six months or longer.”

“Oh, my god, my boss will never let me come back to work again. What am I going to do?”

“Well, you will have plenty of time to contemplate that, sir. Perhaps you should try and take a nap. And you will be better able to contemplate your future plans. Things will become clearer soon. “Oh, I almost forgot your boss left this note for you. He asked me to give it to you when you were feeling a bit better. Here you go.” And then he handed me the note and turned and left the room, and closed the door behind him.  I carefully open the note, and there were two papers in the envelope. One said, “Charlie, so sorry to hear you are not well, but perhaps in time, you will be in a better frame of mind. Needless to say, we had to lay you off because you have missed so many work days due to your untimely mental breakdown. We are all thinking about you. And hope you are well soon. Best Wishes. Oh, by the way, because we had to lay you off, you no longer have health insurance, and the company will not be reimbursing your incarceration, I mean hospital expenses. Best Wishes, Thomas Moore CPA. 

At this particular moment, my only thought was, “Well, there’s no place to go but up now. And that is when I simultaneously started crying and laughing at the same time. So, I decided just to put one foot in front of the other and hope for the best. After all, I already had the worst.

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AS TIME GOES BY, TICK-TOCK, TICK TOCK

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Life can be difficult at times. Sometimes you can become so overcome with fear and frustration you don’t have the strength to get out of bed. I have to admit that I’ve always been fearful of life’s challenges. I never felt confident about anything. I always felt overwhelmed. I can remember feeling this way since I was a young child. I often overheard my siblings talking about me behind my back. And even my parents complained about my fears. 

It was never a choice for me. I didn’t choose to be afraid. My first memory of being afraid was the day I started first grade. I am the youngest child in my family. I had much older siblings. They always seemed to be happy to be going to school. I couldn’t imagine myself walking out the front door and walking by myself to the school. And then having to come face to face with a whole lot of children I didn’t know. And then having to go to school when the bell rang.

During the last few weeks of the Summer before starting school, I began to feel terrified. I started getting stomach aches every morning. My mother finally took me to the doctor’s to see if there was something physical going on with me. After the doctor examined me, he said, Well, Kathy is physically healthy. I have no doubt that the stomach aches and difficulty sleeping are related to her fear of going to school. He told my mother that many children have this fear. That it’s normal. And I would be fine once I started school and made some friends, and realized there was really nothing to fear.

But that’s not what happened. On the first day of school, I was absolutely filled with dread. There were too many children yelling and screaming and running all over the schoolyard. And I didn’t know any of them. My best friend was a year younger than I was and wouldn’t be going to school for another year. I stood in the middle of the schoolyard. I didn’t know what I should do. It was so noisy, and the kids seemed out of control. They were running in every direction and screaming and jumping. It was all too much. I wanted to go home. I started crying.

One of the teachers came over to me and said,” What’s the matter?” I just started crying even more. She took my hand and said, “Let’s just find a nice quiet place, and we’ll have a little talk. And you can tell me what’s going on.”

I followed her, and we walked to the far side of the playground that was opposite the street. The cars were flying by at an amazing rate of speed, and I let out a yelp. And tears started rolling down my face once again. The teacher said, “Here, take this tissue and wipe your face and then take a deep breath. And try to calm down.”

I took a deep breath and then looked down at the ground. I didn’t want to talk to her; I wanted to go home. She said, “OK, now try to tell me why you are so upset.”

I looked up at her and said, “I hate it here. I want to go home. I want my mother.”

“What’s your name, dear?

“My name is Kathy. I want to go home. I want my mother.”

“Oh, well, a lot of children feel that way on their first day of school. But you will get used to it. You will make a lot of new friends. And you will learn a lot. So, how about you try and take it one day at a time? And any time you are upset or afraid, you can come to talk to me. My name is Ms. Norris. And as a matter of fact, I will be your teacher this year. And I promise you things will get better.”

I looked up at her, and I said quietly, “OK.”

“Alright, in a few moments, it will be time to go into the classroom. And you will be assigned a seat and given books. Some day soon, you will begin learning to read. And I promise you you will absolutely love reading. OK.”

“OK.” She said, when the bell rings, you get in line with all the other children in my class. And stand there quietly while the older children say the Pledge of Allegiance.” You stand quietly because you haven’t learned the words yet. But, soon you will learn them. OK?”

I stood there quietly, waiting for the bell to ring. But, just before that happened, two little girls came over to me and said, “ Hi, what’s your name?” Our names are Irene, and she’s Christine. Do you want to be friends?”

I stared at them for a few minutes with my mouth hanging open. I was afraid to say anything. Because I thought this was some kind of joke. Because my older sister pretended to be my friend sometime, and then they would laugh and me. And call me a big baby.

They didn’t say anything else, so I finally said, “My name is Kathy. I live down the street. This is my first day of school. I’m afraid I want to go home. I hate it here. It’s too loud here. I don’t know anybody.” And then I just stared at them.

“Kathy, you know us now. So, you can hang around with us. And today is a half day. That means we can go home at lunchtime. And come back tomorrow. OK?”

I looked at them and said quietly, “OK.”

Irene and Christine stood next to me and talked and talked without taking a breath. And then a bell rang, and everyone started running and getting into a line. Christine said, “Kathy, follow us, and get in line. We’re going into the classroom and sitting at a desk.”

“OK, I said, and then I began chewing my fingernails, which is something I do when I’m scared, which is most of the time. I wished I was home at my mom’s or my best friend’s house. She didn’t have to go to school because she is younger than me. I wish I were younger. My nose started running because of crying, and I didn’t have a tissue. So, it ran down my face. So, I rubbed it on my arm. Some big boy said, “Look at that kid wiping her runny nose on her sleeve.”

Everybody started slowly walking forward in a line. And then we got up to the school and started marching inside. I wanted to run away as fast as I could. But I didn’t. I just kept following the line into the horrible brick building. It was an old building; the walls were painted a weird green color in the hallway. I saw a water fountain. And I ran over to it to get a drink. I heard someone yell, “Get back in line. They were looking straight at me. So, I got back in line. We slowly made our way to the classroom. The teacher who talked to me outside said,” When I call out your name, take the next available seat. Understand?” Everyone said, “Yes, teacher.” At the same time. Not me. I wasn’t going to talk until someone told me to.

Finally, the teacher called out my name. She said,” Please take the next available seat please.”

I looked up and down the aisle and didn’t know where to go. I felt like I was going to start crying again. And Then I heard a voice whispering in my ear. It was Irene. Just walk down the aisle where kids are sitting and sit in the next empty seat. And that is exactly what I did. And the next thing I knew, I was sitting at the desk, and Christine and Irene were sitting behind me. I took a deep breath.

The morning went by slowly. I had to go to the bathroom. But I didn’t know where it was, or if I was allowed to go or had to wait until I got home. I couldn’t sit still. The next thing I knew, the teacher was standing next to me and said, “So, what is the problem? Why can’t you sit still?”

I didn’t want to look at her. I was afraid I would start crying again. So, I whispered, I have to go to the bathroom.” She said, “You have to learn to speak up. Say it loud enough for everyone to hear you. “So, I did, I yelled. I have to go pee.” The teacher said, OK, make a right outside the classroom door and walk down the hall until you see a sign next to the door with a picture of a girl. That’s the girl’s bathroom. And then come right back here.” She said in a loud voice. And all the kids started laughing.

I got up from my seat and walk down the hall. I saw the sign with the drawing of a girl on it. But I didn’t go into the ladies’ room. I saw the door that we came in from the schoolyard, and I went out the door. I was outside. I decided I didn’t want to go to school anymore. And I ran all the way home and ran into the house. My mother was in the kitchen, and she said, “Kathy, you are home early. Are you alright?”

“No, I have to go to the bathroom and the teacher kept yelling at me. I hate school and I’m not going back, ever.” And that is when I ran into our bathroom and locked the door. After a few minutes, my mother came knocking at the door. She said, Kathy, please come out. The school called and they said you have to come back to class and stay until lunchtime.”

I finally opened the door and my mother was standing there waiting. She said, “Please come into the kitchen so we can talk. She gave me a glass of water and said, “Kathy, everyone has to go to school. It is scary in the beginning. But, you will get used to it. You will learn a lot of new things like reading. And you will make some new friends and they can come over and visit with you sometimes after school. Come in and eat your lunch. And after that, you will have to go back to school. And stay until three o’clock. And then you can come home again. You are not allowed to run away. “Do you understand?”

“I looked at my mother and said, “Yes, I understand. I hate school, I hate the teacher.”

“ As I said, “You will get used to it. But, you have to go to school, it is a law. Now, how about eating your lunch and I will walk you back to school and your classroom.”

When my mother dropped me off at school. All the kids were out in the schoolyard running around. They all looked alike I didn’t see my new friends right away. And I started to feel scared again. And then I heard Christine and Irene calling out my name, “Kathy, come play with us.”

So, that is what I did. We played together until we were told we had to come back into the classroom. I sat at the desk the teacher told me to sit in. I looked around and I noticed some of the other kids looked kind of scared too. So, I knew I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like it there. But, they were listening to the teacher. So, I tried to do the same thing. I didn’t understand everything she said, but I tried hard to understand her.

It seemed like the afternoon went on and on. I started feeling sleepy. And I felt my eyes closing. The next thing I knew the teacher was rapping a stick on my desk. And she said,” none of that. Go to bed earlier tonight, if you are still tired. You are not allowed to take naps during class.”

It seemed like there were a lot of rules in school. It was only the end of the first day and I was sick of it. When I got home my mother said,” so, Kathy how was school?” I hate it. But, I did make two new friends. And they asked if they could come over here after school one day and play.”

“Well, that’s wonderful. Do you have any homework?”
“Homework, you meant I have to do work at home for school. That’s not fair.”

“Well, Kathy life doesn’t always seem fair. But, it’s all about growing up to become an adult and being able someday to take care of yourself.”

“Do you mean I’m not always going to live with you and Dad?”
“Well, probably not. When you become a grown-up you will eventually want to have your own apartment or house.”

I looked at her like she was out of her mind. I knew I would always want to live with my mom and dad. Why wouldn’t I”

As it turned out all the things my teachers and my parents told me about going to school, learning to read, and growing up and getting a job were true.

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YOU NEVER KNOW WHO WILL COME KNOCKING AT YOUR FRONT DOOR

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How can I begin? I guess it all began during the pandemic. I was working at home for the first time.

At first, I thought, finally, some peace. No more co-workers constantly interrupting me and breaking my momentum with their endless questions. I was always constantly stressed out because I wasn’t able to concentrate on my current project.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying the pandemic wasn’t a horrendous occurrence. It was, for sure. Millions of people were affected, and before the vaccine was developed, many more died, or their health was forever affected by the virus. But, my own experience was that I learned that it wasn’t horrendous to live by myself and not see anyone else for days, sometimes weeks, or even months.

The isolation of living alone and not seeing or speaking to anyone was difficult for me in the beginning. But, as time went by, I became accustomed to it. And then there was the fact that I decided to get a pet to keep me coming. At first, I considered a dog, then a cat, and then a bird. Perhaps a parrot.

I finally came to the conclusion that, eventually, I would be going back to work. And I couldn’t take the dog with me. A cat or bird would be a better choice. And then, I learned that my elderly neighbor had passed away. And she didn’t have any family, and I made the decision that I would adopt her little dog. Chichi, who was a miniature dachshund. His bark was kind of high-pitched and annoying, but I got used to it in no time. 

And before I knew it, I was in love with that little dog. And anybody who tried to take that dog away from me would have to pull it out of my arms after they killed me. Anyways, Chichi and I became inseparable. And we took long walks twice a day in my neighborhood. And my neighbors would wave at me from behind their living curtains, too afraid to come outside and talk to me lest they be exposed to the virus. But who could blame them you couldn’t be sure that they didn’t have contact with someone that was exposed to the virus but didn’t have any symptoms yet. The pandemic was a complete and utter nightmare. Not in my wildest nightmares did I ever imagine that such a thing could occur in our modern-day society.

After about six months, I started getting antsy. I really needed to talk to someone. And then I remembered social media on the internet. There were places on there like, Facebook, Reddit, and scores of others. And I thought, why the hell not? I would try to make this nightmare of a pandemic into an opportunity to create new relationships.

And so it began. I made a Facebook page for myself. I only put vague descriptions of where I lived and what I did for a living. I wasn’t taking any chances. At least, I didn’t think I was. But only time would tell what this experience would bring into my life, love, companionship, or nothing at all. How in the world would I predict the nightmare that would take place in the next months of my life?

About six months into my isolation, I noticed I had a message sent to me from one of the social media web pages I had joined. I was somewhat nervous, hoping against hope that it would turn out to be my new best friend or, better yet, my one and only true love. Or just a friendly, equally lonely person. Be they men or be they women. And I would once again have a friend in the world. I clicked on the message. And then I held my breath. And low and behold, the message stated,” Hello, I hope this is not too much of an intrusion into your life. But I couldn’t help but notice your profile, and I hoped that you and I could begin a friendship of sorts, even though it would be an online friendship. I have felt so alone ever since this pandemic began, as I am working from home. And my family lives far away. If you are interested, let me know, and I will send a link to my social media page. His name was Kyle Adams.

And so it began. It took me two full days to decide what I should say in my response to the person who sent me a friend request. I was afraid I would say too much, sound too needy. Or that I would sound boring and pathetic.

Finally, I drafted my message, and I signed my name at the bottom and a rather vague description of myself and my employment situation. And that I was currently working from home. I almost gave up hope when I didn’t get a response for two days. And when I was about to give up, I got a response.

And to my surprise, the message was from a man. I had been certain that the message was from a woman. I became somewhat paranoid about the whole thing. I was both terrified and thrilled at the same time. I found it hard to believe any man would be interested in a woman my age. Who had so little experience in relationships? Be they friend or intimate love relationships. I had always been someone of a loner. And had long ago given up on ever finding love.

So, after several days of going back and forth and trying to decide to send a friend request, I did. And then I waited and waited there was no reply. I gave up and tried to stop thinking about it. And a week later, I noticed that there was indeed a response. It took me all day to get the courage to send the message. I told him my name was Helen and that I was fifty-six years old. That I had been married for ten years but was now divorced. And that I hadn’t dated anyone since that time. And that I lived alone except for my dog, Chichi. That I enjoyed gardening and taking long walks, and hiking. And that presently, I was working from home since the beginning of the pandemic.

The next morning I was surprised to find a response from him. It turns out that he was having a similar experience in that he was working from home since the beginning of the pandemic. And that, at first, he enjoyed the quiet, the solitude, the freedom. But, as time went on, he began to feel isolated. And sometimes he felt like crawling up the walls just from the boredom alone. He didn’t really have any hobbies at all. But he did enjoy walking and hiking as well. And he was happy that we had that in common. And to my surprise, he asked if I would like to meet somewhere and perhaps talk about going hiking.

I thought about it for several days. And then I thought, well, why the hell not? As long as we meet at a public place and not in some out-of-the-way woods where, who knew what could possibly happen? I didn’t want to end up murdered and buried in some woods out in the middle of nowhere. So, I finally sent him a message and told him where we could meet. And that he could recognize me by the big, red hat I would be wearing. I knew I was being paranoid. But bad things do happen to good people. And better safe than sorry etc, etc.

I didn’t hear from him, so I took that as a good sign and started counting the days until we would meet. The morning of our meeting, I realize that I had never asked him what he looked like. So, I had no way of recognizing him. But I went anyway. I hoped he would be able to find me because of my big, red straw hat. I was early as usual. I’ve always been paranoid about being late for anything. As a result, I was always way too early for everything.

Luckily, it was a beautiful day, sunny but cool, and the sky was blue with fluffy white clouds. I took my time driving to our meeting place and tried not to obsess about our meeting. After about fifteen minutes, I see a man in the distance waving at me. So, I wave back. He looks middle-aged with red, curly hair and a red mustache. Unfortunately, I’ve always had a dislike for redheads. But I decided not to make a big deal about it. He keeps waving as he gets closer and closer to me. I had a very strong impulse to tell him he can stop waving now. But I overcame the impulse, thank goodness.

I get out of my car and slowly make my way towards him. I see a big grin spread across his face. And I realize that red hair or not, he is adorable. His smile is hard t resist. As I get closer to him, I take off my hat and wave that at him. I hear him call out, “Helen, is that you? It’s me, Johnathan. I love your hat.”

When I was standing about two feet away from him, I looked at him from head to toe. He was about five foot eight. And as I mentioned earlier, red curly hair and a mustache. He looked back at me and said, “Helen, you look exactly as I hoped you would. It is so nice to see someone up close. Since this whole pandemic thing happened, I have felt so alone and isolated. I always felt I was a loner. But, as it turned out when being alone wasn’t a choice, I didn’t like it at all. I miss the everyday camaraderie of talking to workmates and eating lunch with my co-workers. All the mundane things you take for granted. I’m hoping the pandemic will end soon, and we can get back to some normal day-to-day living. How do you feel about this whole experience?”

“ I agree it has been challenging, to say the least. I, too, live alone, but I have an active social life, going out with friends to dinner and movies, and concerts. I also love square dancing. And there is a club that I attend several times a year where we square dance. It’s a lot of fun. Of course, drinking beer all night lightens the mood too. I also love gardening, and I enjoy reading. I guess none of that sounds exciting, but overall I have a good life and a decent job. And I hope sooner rather than later, this pandemic will end. And we can move forward with our lives once again. So, how do you feel about walking some of the trails in the park now? It’s such a beautiful day.”

“Yes, it sure is. And I love being out in the fresh air and seeing all the trees and plants and wildlife. I’m sick of being cooped up in my house. I’ve been working from home for months. I miss my office mates and eating lunch and sometimes dinner together.”

“Well, shall we be on our way? Have you been to this park before?”

“A couple of times, but not lately.”

As they walked along the path, they both took a deep breath of the fresh air at the same time and then sighed. They looked at each other and smiled. “Kyle, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself as we walk along? I’m afraid I’m a bit out of shape after all these months of sitting at my kitchen table and doing my work. Not to mention the ten pounds I’ve gained from being in close vicinity to the frig. So, how about we start out slow and work up to speed walking?”

“Well, Helen, I have to admit I’m a bit out of shape myself and all that junk food I’ve been eating instead of eating healthy foods. I hate living by myself, and I’m not much of a cook either. When I was married, I was quite a bit heavier since my wife, her name Jasmine was an amazing cook.”

“Oh, you were married. Did you get a divorce? How long ago did this happen?”

“No, I didn’t get a divorce my wife passed away. She had breast cancer. They tried to save her in every way they could. But, the cancer had spread and eventually took her life. She was a wonderful woman. She passed away four years ago. We never had the opportunity to have children. Sorry, I don’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. She must have been a wonderful woman. Life sends us a great many challenges in life. You never know what is going to happen next. I mean, who in the world ever thought there would be a pandemic that affected the whole world population? It makes you realize that life is a gift and we shouldn’t waste a minute of it, doesn’t it?”

“You absolutely right, Kyle, so how about we make a promise that from this moment forward, we do not waste one moment of our lives looking back at our mistakes. And we make every effort to be optimistic and make every moment count. Do you agree?”

“Yes, I agree from this moment forward, we will make the most of our lives.” And they smiled at one another and bumped elbows. And from that moment, they both made every effort to live each day fully and enjoy all the good things in life. And avoid stress and negativity one step at a time.

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THE BOOB TUBE

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1950’s television

When I was quite young, perhaps about nine years old, my father bought our first Television. Most of my friends who lived in Maple Shade, New Jersey, already had one. It was black and white, meaning it was not in color. There were only three channels on our TV. They were three, six, and ten. That’s it, three channels.

One of the first shows that I watched was Captain Kangaroo. It was a children’s show, and I never missed a single episode. That is until I turned seven years and I began going to school. Luckily for my mother, we lived only two houses down from the Catholic Church and the Catholic Grade School. Which was called OLPH (Our Lady of Perpetual Help).

Captain Kangaroo

I was absolutely heartbroken when I realized I would never be able to watch the Captain Kangaroo Show. But, I was happy to find out there were children’s programs on TV after school.

Sally Star

I rapidly became a faithful follower of The Sally Star Show. The show also featured short movies starring the Three Stooges and the Popeye Theater. When this show was on TV, I focused all my attention on it. It didn’t matter what else was going on. My mother would often remind me that dinner was ready. But, it was nearly impossible to unglue me from the TV while the Sally Star Show was on.

I’m sure I was among a great number of children of my generation who rapidly became addicted to watching television. Television became available to the general public in the mid-1950.

My father would often remind me not to sit directly in front of the TV as he was sure I would go blind. Don’t worry, and I didn’t go blind. But, it turned out I did need glasses for seeing anything that wasn’t up close. I didn’t get eyeglasses until I was in high school, unfortunately. And watching TV up close was not the reason I was near-sighted.

Once I outgrew watching Captain Kangaroo and Sally Star. I used to watch American Bandstand, which was a live dance show where local teenagers danced to the latest hit music. I was still in elementary school at the time, but my older siblings loved the show, and one time one of my sisters attended one of the shows.

With the advent of TV came commercials that advertised products and companies in the local area. In fact, TV assisted in spreading American culture around the world. 

Until the early 1970s, the majority of people who appeared on TV were Caucasian. The occasional person of color who appeared on TV was portrayed as lower caste people, like servants. In the town I grew up in, I clearly recall seeing signs stating no blacks were allowed and on some of the entrances to the local bars, “no women allowed.” Or there was a separate entrance for women. I can not recall any TV shows in the first years of TV that included people of color. But that did happen over time.

It wasn’t until about the mid-sixties, when Bill Cosby starred as a detective on a show called I SPY, that an actor of color was seen on TV. In my own experience, there was only one black girl who attended our high school. There were no people of color living in the town I grew up in until the Fox Chase Apartments, which was located on the outside perimeters of Maple Shade, allowed people of color to reside, and this was in the late sixties and early 1970s. TV shows reflected the American Culture at the time.

I have to admit that TV had a great influence on my early life and how I came to believe the world to be. In many ways, TV was a reflection of American lives, and American culture affected what we saw on TV. And with the advent of cable TV came new channels and networks.

As a young girl growing up watching TV every day, I noticed that girls and women were almost entirely portrayed in subservient positions to boys and men. I couldn’t help but think how unfair this was. I always considered myself to be equal to any boy, and often I thought I was smarter than they were. But, TV didn’t portray girls and women as equals. And in our own home, our mothers did all the cooking and cleaning and the wash. When I began high school, my mother found employment working at Wanamakers Department store in the employee’s kitchen. It was hard work, and she worked full-time. And when she came home from work, she still had to cook and clean and do the wash.

Housewife in the 1950’ss

It wasn’t until the early 1970s that women began actively seeking equal rights and opportunities. I was just out of high school when this movement began. And TV reflected the lack of opportunities for women in the real world and television.

It was about this time I began watching less TV and reading more and more. And as a result, I learned that my life and the world were not the same reality that appeared on TV. But, that TV was a somewhat distorted view of the world. And that I needed to open my eyes to reality and not fictionalized reality. And when I did, I found that although more than half of all women were employed, they were only getting paid sixty percent of what men were paid. Presently, most women still earn about 82% of what men do working in the same job. Can anyone explain how this is fair or equitable? I certainly can’t.

And I have to admit that my own father once told me it was a waste for girls to get an education since they would get married and have children. And that is when I made up my mind that someday I would go to college, and nothing was going to stop me. And that day did come but not for a long time. After I got married at twenty-three and moved to Florida and then to California, I put my husband through college. And we returned to New Jersey and bought a small house, and eventually had two children.

When I was thirty-six years old, and my children were six and three. I decided that I was going to apply to colleges and earn a degree, and I did just that. I applied to and was accepted at Temple University in Philadelphia, and after four years of hard work and studying, I earned three degrees, including a degree in Art Education. And my husband and I bought a large old home in Pitman, NJ. A doctor formerly owned it. But, it was in disrepair as it had stood empty for eight years. My husband and I spent years renovating the house. And I opened up my own business called The Art Room, and I taught art to children and adults for many years.

Over my lifetime, I found that you will receive many messages on television, in the movies, from the media, and from all the people around you. But, you must trust your own instinct and believe in yourself. Make choices and decisions that are right for you. And ignore all the noise around you. I have come to believe that television no longer reflects “real life.” That stories are fictionalized and edited until there is little that reflects reality.

I do believe that it can affect, to some degree, how people view important issues such as politics, race, and gender equality. But we need to take it with a grain of salt. Because what you hear and see on TV can be both misleading if it is not verified. And also, you shouldn’t interpret anything on TV literally. And remember, television was called a “Boob Tube” for a reason.

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Hello, I wanted to let you all know that as of this week, I will be posting my new short story or memoir on Fridays and posting one of my previously posted stories on Wednesdays. I hope all is well with you. Best Wishes, Susan A. Culver

REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED COLD

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I’ve been dating my boyfriend Gregory since I was in the ninth grade. I just graduated from Temple University. The sad truth is that Gregory and I no longer have anything in common.

When I first met Gregory, I thought he was the most handsome boy I ever met. He was outgoing and funny. Wherever Gregory was in the room, there was sure to be a crowd of people around him laughing. Every girl I knew envied me and wanted Gregory for themselves. Gregory ignored them all. He was loyal to me and didn’t even look at all the girls that tried to seduce him away from me. He was the smartest person I ever met. And not only that, he was a star quarterback throughout high school. He received a full-ride scholarship to Vanderbilt University.

Everything comes easily to Gregory. I have to admit he’s a gifted person. In fact, no matter how hard I examined him, I can’t find a single fault. So, therein lies the problem. Gregory is too perfect. He excels at everything with very little effort. Everyone loves him and admires him. Wants to be him. 

I know I should consider myself lucky to have Gregory, and in the beginning, I did. But over time, I noticed that there was a subtle shift in my feelings for and about Gregory.

I began to resent that Gregory was always in the limelight, always the center of attention, always the STAR. I knew I needed to break up with him before I began to loathe him. He hadn’t done anything to deserve my hate. He was the perfect boyfriend. I know he was going to ask me to marry him after he decided which professional football team to sign a contract with.

I didn’t want to be known as so and so’s wife. Always on the sidelines, the devoted spouse. Yes, yes, I know. All I had to do is be a loving and faithful wife, and everything I ever dreamed of having would be mine. I would have a gorgeous home, designer clothing, an expensive car, and be able to travel all over the world if that is what I wanted to do.

I’ve tried to talk to Gregory about how I felt, that I had dreams and goals of my own. He would say, sure, sure Babe, whatever you want, and off he would go. After months of delaying the decision to leave Gregory, I finally took the final step and broke up with him.

I admit the timing wasn’t perfect. In fact, I chose the worse time to do it. The afternoon before dinner Gregory’s friends were throwing him a victory party for getting a contract with the New England Patriots.

We were having lunch on the patio of our house. It was such a beautiful day. Early that morning, there had been a Spring shower, and the sun had just shown its face, and raindrops on the grass were glistening like diamonds in the sand. I had been struggling for weeks trying to decide the best way to tell Gregory about my decision.

I decided the most painless method was to tell him all at once. Quick and painless I thought. I’ve been trying to tell him in a million different ways over the past year. And he kept blowing me off. If Gregory doesn’t want to hear something, he refuses to hear it.

I had already packed up all my earthly belongings, the ones that matter anyway, and had them in the trunk of my car. Gregory hadn’t even noticed. I left all the expensive jewelry he had ever given me on my dresser. Jewelry was never important to me. I had told him time and again that I didn’t need it, didn’t want it. He just never heard me.

I was taking the last bite of my gourmet lunch. Oh, I forgot to mention that Gregory is a gourmet cook. On this particular day, Gregory had outdone himself. He had made a chilled Wild Pacific Confit Salmon with a Harissa Sauce, Quinoa & Arugula Salad, and fresh pears with Honey-Sea Salt Cornbread with Local Spiced Apple Butter. As I reflected on this lunch, I considered it my last meal with Gregory. And I have to admit I enjoyed that meal. It was delicious, and I would miss his cooking. It marked the end of an era in my life.

“Gregory, I have something to tell you.”

“Christine, please don’t spoil this day. You know I have been looking forward to this for a long time. And every time you preface a conversation with, “I have something to tell you.” I know I’m not going to like it. Can you spare me the drama today? Let’s have a nice day, can’t we?”

“I’m sorry, Gregory. I’ve tried to tell you how I’ve been feeling many, many times. You refuse to listen to me. So no, it can’t wait. I’m leaving you, Gregory. Today. This is our last meal together. I’m unhappy. I don’t want to be a cheerleader for you anymore. I care about you, I admire your intelligence, creativity, and ambition. But I have the desire to succeed and grow too. And there doesn’t seem to be enough space in your life for me to do that.”

“What are you talking about? I never tried to stop you from anything you wanted to do, Christine.”

“Yes, you have Gregory. It’s not blatant. You didn’t say, No, I forbid you to do this or that. But you did discourage me from going back to get my Master’s degree because it was inconvenient timing. When I wanted to go to Europe for six months after I graduated. You said maybe later.”

“I never said no, I just said later, Christine.”

“Gregory, later never comes. I have all my belongings packed, I’ve rented a small apartment off-campus, I got a part-time job, and I’m going to get my Masters and my Ph.D. I don’t need your help. I’m sorry I’ll be missing your big dinner, but I’m sure you’ll have all the attention from your groupies that will more than makeup for me not cheering you on. Although Gregory, I do wish you all the success in the world. Take care, Gregory. I’m going to be leaving now.”

And that’s when I noticed the expression on Gregory’s face changed from annoyance to anger. I never saw that expression on his face before. I hardly recognize him. He didn’t say another word to me. He just stared at me with what I can only say looked like hatred. I think it was the first time Gregory didn’t get what he wanted.

I moved into my apartment. I think it is what people called an efficiency apartment. In that, it was really just one big room with a tiny kitchen, a living room space, and an area next to the kitchen where I put my bed and bedside table. And there was a tiny bathroom with a shower, toilet, and sink. There was only one small closet. So, I had to leave most of my out-of-season clothing in storage. But it was mine, all mine—no one to tell where everything should be and what looked right and what didn’t. I loved every inch of that apartment because it was mine.

For the first several days, I didn’t hear from Gregory. Nothing. Nothing at all. I thought good. He is going to act like a grown man this time. He is just accepting that things have changed and moved on with his life, no drama, no theatrics.

But then, little things started happening. I didn’t think too much about it at the time. I just thought, “Well, that’s weird.” And then I forgot about it. I received several hang-up calls on my cell phone. But I didn’t recognize the phone number. But that happens to everyone at one time or another, hang-ups.

Then about two weeks later, I started having accidents. I was going down the two flights of steps from my apartment to the street, and the steps were oddly slippery. The first time I fell down about six steps before I was able to grab the banister and stop myself from falling down all the way. I got up and quickly looked around because I thought someone might have seen me fall.

And then the next time I fell, it was because the banister came off in my hands when I went to grab it after I slipped on the steps. Not only did I fall down the flight of steps, but I nearly clobbered myself in the head when I made a grab for the banister and nearly hit myself in the head. After I managed to get myself up off the floor and dust myself off, I examined the banister it had been neatly sawed in two places and then put back in place. It was deliberate.

I called up the manager of the apartment building, and he apologizes and said he has no idea how such a thing could happen, but he’ll send the maintenance guy over to repair it today. And when I arrive home later that day, it had been replaced. The next couple of weeks flew by without any unexpected occurrences. So, I just put it down to bad luck and forgot about it.

I was working part-time in a restaurant that Gregory and I used to frequent. I was lucky to get a job here because it was a high-end place, and the tips were generous. And then, one night, as I was clearing one of the tables in my section, I noticed that Gregory had just come into the restaurant with a young woman that was so beautiful that even I could not take my eyes off of her. She was well over six feet tall and had long blond hair down to the middle of her back. She was wearing a dress that barely covered her ass. Her legs seemed to go on forever, and the front neckline was so low you could almost see her belly button.

I said a little prayer that they wouldn’t sit in my section. But, unfortunately, they did. After they were seated, I walk towards their table with menus and plastered a smile on my face. I walk slowly over to their table. I hand them their menus, smiled at them, and said,” Good evening, hello, Gregory. So nice to see you. Can I get you a beverage or a drink while you look at the menus?”

“Hello, Christine, so nice to see you. So, this is the dream job?”

“No, this is a job that pays the rent while I finish my Master’s. Are you ready to give me your order, or would you like some time to study the menus for a bit?” I look at him and wish I could smack the smirk off his face. I smile. His date doesn’t react at all. She obviously doesn’t know who I was and why he brought her to this particular restaurant.

After they finish their dinner, I walk over to their table. Would you like to look at the dessert menu or have a refill on your coffee? Gregory said, “What would you like to recommend?”

“Well, the lemon cake is delicious. I know you would enjoy that. And there’s a Raspberry-lemon mouse that is to die for.”

“Camella, what would you like?”

“Oh, I don’t know; they both sound delicious. I’ll get whatever you are getting, Gregory.”

“Gregory looks up at Christine and says, “You heard her. We’ll have Lemon cake. It has always been my favorite. And two coffees too. That will be all.”

Christine put on her biggest smile and says, “I’ll be back in a few moments.”  And then she turns and walks away. There is no way she is going to let Gregory think he has the ability to upset her or make her jealous. She doesn’t care one way or the other how he felt.

After Christine delivers the desserts, she says, “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, that will be all.” And he looks away from Christine and starts talking rapidly. His date’s eyes open wide with a surprised look on her face.

When Christine looks at the table, they had left. She finds a $5.00 tip on it. She picks it up and stuffs it in her apron pocket. Wow, he was really being a jerk.

About three weeks later, she receives a phone message. It sounds like an older man’s voice, and it seems familiar. “Good Morning. This is Dean Sheridan at Temple MS program of Science and Technology. I am trying to contact Christine Brown. Could you please call my office asap?”

Christine picks up the phone and looks at the phone number, and sees it was the Dean’s office. She calls him back and listens while the phone rings four times. She was about to hang up when finally, a male voice said,” Hello, this is Dean Sheridan. Can I help you?”

“Hello, Dean Sheridan. This is Christine Brown here, returning your call. What can I do for you?”

“Ms. Brown, I’m sorry, but I have some bad news for you. The benefactor that was providing the funding for the opening of the Master’s Program has pulled his funding. I’m so sorry. This happens sometimes. I’ve been trying to find contributions from some of our more generous alumni. But so far, no luck. I’m going to keep trying. However, I suggest you start applying to other universities asap, just in case. I’ll hand your call over to my assistant, and she will give you their contact information. Again, I’m so sorry to disappoint you. You would have been a great asset to our program. If you are able to secure funding somehow, please inform me. “

Christine felt crushed. She had worked so hard to get this far, and she couldn’t believe the rug was being pulled out from under her this late in the game. The classes were supposed to start in three weeks. It was too late to apply to other programs. She realizes she will have to start applying all over for next semester and seek scholarships or grants. There was no way she could afford it on a waitress’s pay. Maybe she could get a second job and save enough money to reapply next year. She feels a tear run down her cheek, but she quickly wipes it away. There is no way she’s going to start feeling sorry for herself. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, and she has a long road to travel before she reaches her goal.

About six months later, Christine receives a letter informing her that her building had been sold and she has to seek new housing and vacate her apartment by the end of the month. Christine couldn’t believe the bad luck that had come her way in the last six months. It was so expensive to move and time-consuming. And she has to find another apartment that’s affordable, which is no easy task. She calls all her friends to see if they know of any cheap apartments in the area. The last person she calls is her old friend, Sheila.

“Hello, Sheila, this is Christine. I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a while, but I’ve been working 24/7, trying to save money for my MS classes. First, I lost my scholarship and grants and my place in Temple’s MS program. And today, I received a letter stating that I had three weeks to move out of my apartment. My building is being sold.  Anyway, I was wondering if you know of any cheaper apartments or even anyone looking for a roommate near Temple University? Oh, and how are you? My bad,”

“Hello Christine, yeah, I did hear through the grapevine that you really had a bad string of bad luck, I should have called, but you know how life gets in the way. No, I don’t know anyone or any place for that matter. But why don’t you contact Gregory? His father owns a lot of residential property in the Temple University area near Broad Street. In fact, doesn’t he own the apartment building where your studio apartment is located?”

“What, I didn’t know that? Gregory never mentioned it. Oh, I knew they were wealthy. But I never really asked about where their money came from. It just didn’t interest me. I’ll have to look into that. Thanks for the info. I’ll let you know what happens. So, what have you been up to anyway?”

“Oh, same old, same old. I’m finishing up my dissertation. And after that, I’m taking a sabbatical and going to do some traveling before I start teaching. That is if all goes well with my dissertation.”

“Really, that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you. I know how hard you worked to get this far. You deserve every success.”

“Thank you, girlfriend. It’s been a long hard road, but I’m near the end. Please let me know if you find an apartment. You know you can count on me to help you move.”

After Christine hangs up, she starts thinking about the string of bad luck she had experienced in the last several months. And a lightbulb goes off in her head. It all started when she broke up with Gregory. And now she finds out that Gregory’s father owns the building she lives in. She decides to go to the library and find out if it was true that Gregory’s father owned her building. She didn’t want to believe that Gregory would be so mean-spirited as to cause her to become homeless.

After several hours of researching properties, she’s told by the librarian the best thing she can do is go to the county seat and look at their records to find out just who owned the apartment complex she lives in. And with the clerk’s help, she’s able to find out that it is Gregory’s father, Stewart Landers, does indeed own that building and several others in the Temple University area. Most of these are occupied by poor students who eke out a living as waiters and waitresses or nannies for rich people in the Society Hill area of Philadelphia.

Christine contacts Gregory’s father’s office and asks to speak to him. She identifies herself as a family friend. When He comes on the line, she says, “Hello, Mr. Landers. This is Christine Brown. I used to date your son, Gregory.”

“I know who you are, Ms. Brown. Gregory was brokenhearted when you broke up with him. We were all fond of you. And we hoped you and Gregory would marry. Mr. Landers, I’m sorry I hurt Gregory, but I wasn’t ready to get married. I wanted to finish school and get my MS. And then possibly go on to get my doctorate. And then I want to teach. I tried to tell you this to Gregory for a long time. But he didn’t want to hear about it.”

“Well, these things happen, and it looks like Gregory has moved on. He has been dating a beautiful young lady who just graduated at the top of her class from Sarah Lawrence. Perhaps a better fit than you two. No offense. So, what can I do for you? What’s this all about?

“My landlord just informed me that my building was being sold, and I had to move out.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. But what has that got to do with my family and me?”

“You own the building.”
“I do? Where is it?

“It is in downtown Philadelphia in the Temple University area. A great many students live there. I’m one of them, and I was just notified that I had to move out. It’s the Edge Student Village.”

“Oh, yes, that’s one of my buildings. I gave that building to Gregory as an investment for his future. He didn’t tell me he was going to sell it. I will contact him and see what I can do about this situation. Of course, if he already sold it, there isn’t much I can do about it. Of course, I could probably find other housing for you. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“I would appreciate that, and I’m really in a desperate situation. I’m living day to day. I can’t really afford to move again so soon.”

Two days later, Gregory’s father calls Christine back and says, I talked to Gregory, and he said he hadn’t filed the final papers. He knew that was your building, and he wanted you to feel helpless. He thought you might come back to him if you had no place to go. I guess he is still in love with you.”

“Mr. Landers, if he really loved me, he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to hurt me. He would want the best for me. He wants to control me, and that is something I could never live with. I want Gregory to be happy, but I don’t think that, ultimately, we would have been happy together. We want completely different things in life.”

“Yes, I can see that. He is still a very young man and has a lot to learn about life yet. I’m sorry, he told me how angry he was at you and some other things he had done to get your attention. And for all of that, I apologize. Your building is not going to be sold. You can stay there until you are finished with your education. I hope you will forgive him and move on with your life. I have warned him to do the same.”

“Thank you so much for your help.”

“Good luck, young lady.”

Christine hangs up the phone with a sigh of relief. She fixes herself a cup of coffee and sits and down, and takes a deep breath. And at just that moment, the doorbell rings. Christine goes to the door and looks through the peephole, and sees an eye looking back at her. “Who’s there”

“I have a delivery for Christine Brown.”

Christine opens the door. And a young man stands there with a huge bouquet of long-stemmed yellow roses, her favorite. “Oh no”, she says.

She hands a dollar to the delivery man and takes the flowers. Inside there is a note that says, “All is forgiven. I’ll be over at 7:30 PM to take you out to eat at our favorite restaurant. Eternal love, Gregory.”

“Oh no, this is going to be much harder than I thought,” she says out loud. And then she closes the door and locks the two locks and the chain.

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