Tag Archives: adventures

A MODERN DAY FAIRY TALE

There once was a little girl named Sally who was different in many ways from all the other little girls. She was even quite different from her four sisters. She didn’t resemble any of them in their looks or their behavior. It had occurred to her own mother that somehow she had gotten the wrong baby when she went to the hospital.

As soon as the little girl was old enough, her mother would allow her to explore her neighborhood. But first, her mother said, “ I have to teach you how to cross the street by yourself; otherwise, you could be hit by a car. And sure enough, that very day, Sally’s mother took her out to the curb on the street in front of their house and said,” Now, Sally, you have to be very careful when you cross the street. This street is very busy. So, you have to look both ways. First, you look right, then left, then right again. If no cars are coming, you can safely cross the street. Sally was a little afraid to cross the street on her own. But she was also brave and looked right, left, and right again. And there weren’t any cars coming from either direction. And so, Sally walked across the street and back again.

Her mother hugged her and said,” Good job, Sally. Remember to do that every time I woudn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Mommy, can I walk up and down our street too?”

“Yes, Sally, but always look both ways. And don’t talk to strangers, either. And don’t ever get into a car with someone you don’t know. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mommy I understand, look both ways, twice and don’t talk to strangers or get into cars with them. I won’t forget.”

And so, from that day forward, Sally began a life of adventures. Sally didn’t tell her mom or daddy where she went or what she did. Because they never asked, and she followed her mother’s rules. The first thing she did was to walk two houses down and visit Mrs. Collin’s house. She loved going there because Mrs. Collins had many, many cats. They came outside and strolled up and down the backyard inside a long cage that ran from the back of Mrs. Collin’s house to the end of her property. Sally knew all their names. She didn’t know for sure how many there were because they never held still for long, so it was hard to count them.

Plus, Sally hadn’t started school yet. And she wasn’t good at counting. But, nonetheless, Sally loved every one of those cats and made sure she petted each and every one of them when she went over to their backyard to visit them.

Sally had a big imagination. While she was out and about, she would make up stories. And when her neighbors would ask her what she was up to, she often told a tall tale about her adventures every day.

One day, one of her neighborhood friends came outside to play, and Sally decided to tell her a story. It was a made-up story. But her girlfriend didn’t know that. Sally went on to tell her friend, Jillian, that she was actually an alien from outer space and she had come here to take Jillian with her to her planet. Jillian began to cry at the top of her lungs that she didn’t want to go to another planet. She cried so much that Sally got frightened and said, “Jillian, I was just making pretend. I’m not from another planet; I’m not taking you anywhere.” Jillian kept crying, and Sally decided she better take her home. Sally didn’t see Jillian for another week. So, she went over to Jillian’s house and knocked on the door. Jillian’s father answered the door. And he looked very angry, he said,” What do you want? You know that Jillian is still upset by that story you told her the other day; don’t scare her again with your stories. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand. I was pretending. It was a game.”

“Yes, but Jillian didn’t know you were playing a game.”

“OK, I won’t do that again. Can I please play with Jillian today?”
“Yes, but come back after lunchtime. Jillian is eating lunch.”

“OK, I’ll come back after lunchtime. Can we go Jillian and I go to the playground then?”

“Yes, do you know how to cross the street?”
“Yes, my mom taught me. I’ll hold Jillian’s hand when we cross.”

“Alright, but make sure she is home before dinnertime.”

“I will. She will be safe with me.”

Sally decided to go home and see if her mother had lunch ready since her stomach was growling. Sure enough, when she got home, she could smell Chicken Noodle Soup cooking and her favorite sandwich, grilled cheese with Lebanon Bologna, when she walked into the kitchen. Her father was sitting at the table. And he said, “Well, Sally, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, nothing. I just went over to Jillian to ask her to come out and play, and I was told to come back after lunch. So, here I am.”

“So you are. Have a seat. Here comes your lunch. And don’t gulp it down. And clear the table before you leave. Push your chair in after getting up, and then brush your teeth. Sally took a long breath after her father said all of that. And she sighed. Her father always gave her a long list of things she had to do. Sometimes, he was in a bad mood, and he would yell at her and tell her to stop talking so much because she loved to tell her mother and father about her adventures. Her older sisters always laughed at her. And said,’ Wow, she really has a wild imagination, doesn’t she?”

Her father would always say, “Leave her alone day that imagination is going to take her places. And then her older sister said, “Yeah, a nut house.” Sally’s father said, “That’s enough; don’t be mean to your little sister.”

After lunch, her mother said, “Sally, go in and brush your teeth before you go out. And wash your face, too; you have peanut butter all over it. And don’t forget to brush your teeth. Sally moaned. She hated brushing her teeth. Sally went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Her mother made her brush her teeth with peroxide and baking soda. It tasted awful. It made her feel sick. She rinsed her mouth out about five times and then did it again. Why, oh why, couldn’t she brush her teeth with toothpaste like everyone else?

Sally came out of the bathroom and asked, “Is it OK if I walked downtown to the Ben Franklin 5&10 and Rexall? I have a whole dollar saved, can I, can I?”

“Yes, but be careful crossing the streets. Do it at the red light, not in the middle of Main Street. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I’ll be careful. Can I stop at the library too? I want to get some new books?”

“Sure, that’s a good idea. Maybe you won’t spend so much time watching TV all afternoon and night.”

“Yes, Mom. I’ll see you later.”

Sally said, “See you later.” As soon as she exited the front door, Sally started running down Main Street as fast as possible. Sally loved to run; she also liked riding her bike. But she wasn’t allowed to ride it downtown because of all the traffic. Before she knew it she was in front of the Bakery. She could smell the sweet aroma of cakes, pies, donuts, and cookies. Oh, it was heaven. Sally decided to stop into the bakery and say hello to all the people who worked there. They always gave her a cookie or a donut when she stopped by because she would regale them with long stories about her adventures around town. They thought she was making it up, but she wasn’t. Sally did a lot of interesting things. Just last week, she had borrowed her older sister’s bike and road down to the next town where there was a lake. And she spent the entire afternoon walking in the water up to her knees and sitting in the sand. She just loved it there. One of the bakers, whose name was Thelma, said, “Well, what have you been up to, Sally?”

“Oh, nothing much, but I did walk all the way to the Custard Stand last week and bought myself a custard. I bought a vanilla one. It was delicious.”

“Sally, where do you get all the money to buy treats?”
“Oh, I walk all around Main Street and look for coins people drop.”

“ Well, you must be really lucky. But you better brush your teeth. Too much sugar rots your teeth.”

“I know, I know. My mother tells me that night and day.”
“Well, where are you headed now?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll take a walk to my Uncle Bill’s house. It’s not too far from here. And they always give me a snack and sometimes even a soda. And my uncle likes to draw things. He showed me how to draw a horse. And my Aunt Betty is really nice. They don’t have kids, so they like when I visit them. Sometimes, my Uncle Bill gives me a silver dollar.’’

“Well, aren’t you the lucky one?”

“Yes, I guess I am. Well, I guess I’ll be on my way. I want to go to the library and get some more books. I’m reading about dinosaurs now. I wish we still had dinosaurs.”

The people in the bakery laughed and said,” Oh, I don’t know about that. They may decide to eat you for dessert. And then she laughed; they all did. The ladies working in the bakery thought Sally was an interesting kid, always up to something. She was probably giving her mother and father grey hair before their time.

And then Sally said, “Well, I guess I’ll see you later. And before they knew it, she was out the door yelling, thanks for the donuts. And she was off to her next adventure. Sally absolutely loved her adventures. And she knew that someday when she grew up, she was going to go on even better adventures far away, maybe even to another country. And she did, when she grew up she went on many adventures far and wide, and brought home all kind of suveneirs. She spent many of her years writing stories about her adventures and even painting pictures of the places and the people she met along the way. Who knows what she will do next? I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

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THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE CURIOUS

There are many ways that someone can be described. I’ve been described as intelligent, not bad-looking, and funny. But the truth is my most outstanding trait is my curiosity.

As far back as I can remember the force that drove me is my curiosity. You may ask, “But what are you so curious about?”

“And the God’s honest truth is, everything.”

I remember an incident from my early childhood. I was about four years old. And I decided to take a walk down my street about four houses down from where we lived. I was standing next to a telephone pole that was out in front of Mrs. Collins’s house. And her trash can was sitting there waiting to be picked up by the garbage man. They always come at 8 AM every Friday morning. 

My father had a weird fascination with counting how many garbage cans people put out in front of their house the day before the trash was picked up. He got angry if the neighbors put out too many and even more angry if they didn’t put out any at all.

So perhaps because he talked about the garbage cans every week to such an extent, I became curious and wondered, “what is so interesting” about garbage cans? And on this particular Friday morning, I decided to take a walk down my street, and investigate just what was inside these metal cans that everyone wanted so badly to get rid of them, and have them driven far, far away from them every week? And why did they keep buying things that they eventually couldn’t wait to get rid of?

As I stood there staring at Mrs. Collins’s trash can I couldn’t help but notice that there was a disgusting smell emanating from the depths of the can that had a bent and rusty lid on it. The lid was being held closed by a broken brick. Because the lid didn’t fit well. And would often fall off before the garbage men emptied its contents into the maw of the giant monster of a truck that swallowed everyone’s garbage every Friday morning.

I picked up the broken brick and put it gingerly onto the ground next to the can. The stink intensified. I took off the lid and put that on the ground next to the stinking can. The first thing I saw inside was a large can. I recognized it as something my mother used to call “The Crisco Can.” I didn’t know that everyone had this “Crisco Can.”

I thought, “wow, that’s really a big can. I wonder if this can will fit over my head. It looks big enough.” And so, I picked up the can without investigating the contents. It felt empty so I thought it would be safe to put on my head. My older brother had been kind enough to give me a haircut recently. As a result, my hair only came down to the tips of my ears. For some reason, my mother asks, “why, why did he cut your hair? And why would he cut it this short? I told my mother that he cut it short to see if I would look like a boy.

Anyway, it turns out that the Crisco Can was almost a perfect fit for my head since I had very little hair left on it. I wiggled my head a bit to see what if anything would happen. And then out of the blue, I felt something or someone biting my head. Not just the top but all over. And not only did the bites sting like crazy but my scalp started to burn like it was on fire. And whatever it began running down inside my shirt and biting me all over my chest and stomach.

I began to scream like crazy and running at the same time back to my house. I ran to the kitchen door and screamed at the top of my lungs. “I’m on fire, help I’m on fire.”
My dad and mom who had been sitting quietly at the kitchen table drinking their first cup of coffee of the day came bursting out of the kitchen onto the side stoop. And my father started yelling, “what the hell is wrong with you? You’re not on fire. And why in the hell do you have a Crisco can on your stupid noggin?”

“My head is on fire. And something is biting me. HELP.”

My mother said, don’t yell at her, you’re just making it worse. Why do you always have to yell?”

“For the love of god, take the can off her head.”

My father yanked the greasy can off my head. I yelled even louder. “Ow, ow, ow. That hurts.”

My mother said, “what is it” what is it?”

“Holy mackerel she has red ants all over her head, and on her neck, and in the front and the back of her shirt. “Take her clothes off, and I’ll get something to kill them. And with that, he ran back into the house and off to find something that would kill the “red ants.”

I hoped he wouldn’t kill me in the process. Sometimes with my father in charge, the cure was often worse than the ailment. I started crying anew. My mother started pulling my top off and my undershirt and then my pants and underpants. I was now naked as a Jay Bird in front of everyone who happens to drive or walk by. And the worse part was, I could see our evil next-door neighbor’s face pressed up against the windowpane. And there was a horrible grin on her face. For some reason she just despised me. She was always calling me The Cry Baby.

And then at that very moment, my father burst out of the kitchen door and he had a big metal can in his hand. “Step back from the child, I’m going to pour this all over her head. This should kill the bastards.”

My mother yelled, “What? You can’t pour turpentine on her head. It will kill her. She’s just a little girl and it will get in her eyes and blind her.”

She stepped back and I felt a burning liquid pouring down over my head and face, I quickly closed my eyes tight. And then it dripped down my front and back and down my skinny legs. My mother forgot to take off my shoes, so my new sneakers got all wet too. My mother said, “oh no, you ruined her new sneakers.”

I had tightly closed my eyes but tears somehow managed to creep out of my eyes and down my red and swollen face. My father yelled, “get the hose, and we’ll hose her down.”

And that was what they did. They hosed me down for what seemed forever. I had finally run out of tears and was just standing there in my ruined sneakers and red and itchy skin and soaking wet. And my father said to me with all seriousness,” are you happy now?”

I stood there soaked to the skin with itchy, burning bites and dead ants pooling around my feet. And my father said, “why in god’s name did you put that filthy, disgusting can on your head for? Can you just tell me that?”

I looked at him and said, “to see if it would fit on my head of course.”

“Did you hear that? She wanted to know if the can would fit on her head?”

“Yes, she’s always been a curious child. She’ll probably be the death of me yet. I’m going to take her in and put her in a tub and clean her off. And then I’m going in my room and say the rosary.”

Of course, this was neither the first or last horrible experience I had because of my curiosity. My best friend and I often took long walks around town or rode our bikes all over the place. My mom always said to me as I was on the way out the front door, don’t slam the door and be home for lunch (or dinner) on time.

My best friend would always go along with my plans and never questioned or suggested. Nor did she ever suggest that perhaps this was not a good idea. She just went along with whatever I said. So, one fine summer day, I said, “Wow, it is really hot outside, I would really like to go swimming. She said, “Me too.” I was about ten years old then and she was nine.

“Why don’t we go and get our swimsuits on and walk down to the hotel on Route 73 and sneak into their swimming pool. I bet they wouldn’t even notice us. I’ll meet you at your house in about fifteen minutes. Put your clothes on your swimming suit and bring a towel. “Ok, I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes. I went to my house and changed into my hand-me-down swimsuit and put my shorts and tee-shirt on over it.

My mother told me to be on time for lunch and I said, OK. She never asked where I was going, she just reminded me to be on time. When I got home from whatever adventure I was up to she said, “oh good, there you are. Go get ready for dinner.” And by that, she meant to wash your hands. Neither my father nor mother ever ask where I was. They might say what were you doing today? And I would just reply, riding bikes.

And so, on this particular day, we rode down Route 73 which was a State Highway in South Jersey and heavily traveled. Luckily, it wasn’t rush hour so there weren’t too many cars and trucks on the road. And somehow, we made it in one piece to the hotel.  When we got there were several families with kids already swimming in the pool. So, we just parked our bikes next to the fence behind a bush and walk through the gate and put our clothes on our towels and nonchalantly jumped into the pool. We had a great time. Unfortunately, both of us got sunburned and when I arrived home my mother said, “Good grief, you’re as red as a beet. You should have known you were out in the sun too long. You need to go take a bath in baking soda. My mother thought baking soda was a cure-all, either that or Vic’s Vapor Rub.

I never let a previous negative outcome to one of my little adventures deter me from continuing down the path I follow to satisfy my curiosity. I really don’t allow anything or anyone to stop me once I got an idea in my head. My father often told me I was the most bullheaded, stubborn person he ever knew bar none.

And so, about a year later, when that self-same hotel that my best friend and I went swimming in added a trampoline for the guest children to enjoy I thought, why shouldn’t I enjoy the trampoline? What’s one or two more kids jumping on the trampoline going to harm? We had a half-day at school this Friday so I would just fail to inform my mother and she would not be the wiser, no harm, no foul, right?

I waited for my friend to come out of her classroom on Friday and we dumped our schoolbags on my back porch and we went on our merry way towards Route 73 and our new adventure. Once again, we managed to get safely across the highway and up to the hotel. My friend did have a few moments where she freaked out as we crossed the highway. When we got to the other side I said, “what are you crying about? Nothing bad happened we’re fine.”

And then we walked up to the gate where the trampoline was located and before you knew it, we were jumping up and down to our heart’s content. It was amazing. I felt like I was flying. My greatest desire in life was to be a bird. And to fly from one side of the planet to the other. We must have jumped up and down for three hours. My stomach was growling like crazy because I didn’t eat breakfast that morning. And we skipped lunch. On the other hand, there was a really strong chance that if I did eat anything I would puke.

I yelled as loud as I could, “hey my legs are getting tired. How are yours?”

She yelled back, “they are killing me let’s go home now. It must be getting late.” By then we were the only kids left on the trampoline. “Yeah, let’s go home now.” We took our time walking back to our houses because not only were our legs killing us, it felt like we were still jumping up and down. It was a weird feeling, and it took us twice as long to get back home. When we got back to my house, we went to the back porch and grabbed our school bags. I yelled, “I’ll call you later,” to my friend. She barely waved at me. No doubt she would go home and fall in her bed and not get up to twelve o’clock on Saturday afternoon.

I have to admit my legs were absolutely killing me. But there was no way I could tell my mother what I had been up to. Or my father would have made sure that my legs were the only thing that would be hurting for a few days. When I got up to the side steps, I could hardly lift my legs up to the next step. There were only four steps but I wasn’t sure I would be able to make it. It took me about five minutes.

When I got to the top step, I saw my mother looking at me through the windows on the kitchen door. I waved at her. Thank god, my arms didn’t hurt. Or the jig would be up.

My mother opened the door and let me in. She said, “where have you been your sister has been home for several hours? She said you had a half-day today.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. But I had to stay after school to practice diagramming sentences with Sister. This was a frequent occurrence so she didn’t question me again. But the problem was I was hardly able to walk because I had such terrible leg cramps from jumping on the trampoline for hours.

As the school year came to a close, I began looking forward to going to Strawbridge Lake. My friends and I used to ride our bikes there. I was twelve years old now so I didn’t think it was a problem to ride there it was only two towns away. Of course, I didn’t tell my parents where we were going, they would have told me that I wasn’t old enough to ride my bike that far. But unbeknownst to them, we had been going there for years. But as I mentioned earlier, my parents never ask where we went. They only told us not to be late for lunch or dinner. Unlike me, they didn’t seem to have any curiosity about where I was and what I did. As long as I got home in one piece more or less.

Anyway, on this particular day, I had the brilliant idea that today would be the perfect day to walk across the waterfall at Strawbridge Lake. Up until now, we had all been too chicken to cross it since the water was at its deepest at the Falls. It would be really, really fun. I called a couple of my friends up and ask them to meet me outside my house in a half-hour. Only two of them agreed to go. Since they had all suffered some negative consequences when I got “some crazy idea” about what would be fun.

At eleven o’clock we all met in the church parking lot. And then we headed to Strawbridge Lake. It was in Moorestown. So, it took us about forty-five minutes to get there. And it was at least ninety degrees out and humid. In other words, typical summer weather in NJ. By the time we got there, we couldn’t wait to get in the water. However, no one was allowed to swim in the lake. It was strictly a fishing lake and a place to have family picnics. But of course, that didn’t stop us.

I had brought a towel and a blanket in my bag. So, I laid the blanket out under a Willow tree and we all took our sneakers and socks off. Then I said, “let’s go.” And off we went and walked toward the waterfalls. I kept saying, “come on, come on let’s go.” There was me and my best friend and two of my school friends, Diane and Helen. I said, “come on last one there is a rotten egg. And we all started laughing and running.

When we got to the edge of the water I stuck my foot into the water, and said, “holy mackerel it’s freezing.” They all looked at each other and I could see they were going to chicken out. “Come on, come on. I’ll go first and then each one of you goes in one at a time. The water was shallow at first but got gradually deeper as I moved forward. And then there was a sudden drop off as I got to the waterfall, the water was up to my knees. I started making the climb up to the top of the waterfall. It was really slippery.

I could see about six or seven fishermen standing on the top of the waterfall and spread out all the way to the other side. I heard one guy yell,” hey kid be careful the water is really deep along here. You shouldn’t be up here. Go back.”

I just ignored him. There was no way I wasn’t going to go all the way across the falls. My feet were already numb from the freezing water. But I was almost to the halfway point of the falls and there wasn’t I was bound and determined that I going to go all the way to the other side. And then it happened. My foot slipped and I was just about to fall off and down into the lake. I screamed at the top of my lungs. One of the men, yelled, “grab that kid she’s about to fall off into the lake.”

And that is when the fishermen closest to me tried to reach down and grab me, but he couldn’t reach me. Then he yelled, “Hey kid grab ahold of my fishing pole. Yeah, that’s it, grab it. I’ll pull you up.” And he did. I was small for my age so I wasn’t that heavy. And he pulled me up by the fishing pole. When he finally got me back to the top of the falls he said, “are you crazy or just stupid?” My father used t say that to me all the time. So, it didn’t really bother me that much. I said, “thanks” and walked back to my friends.

They were all standing there with their hands clapped over their mouths. And then my best friend said, “good grief, you could have drowned.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t. And this goes to the grave with you and the rest of them.” Then we all walked back to the blanket and I flopped on it and I just sat there until my clothes dried off. And then I said, “well, I guess it’s time to go back home.” None of my friends ever mention this experience again. I thought about it quite often and I decided it might be a good idea if I learned how to swim.

My experiences as a child growing up in the 1950s and the 1960s were fueled by my curiosity and desire to experience everything I could and if there was a chance that it was a little dangerous well, all the better. I was a quiet child around adults and no one would imagine that I would do anything dangerous. But I was often the catalyst for all the exciting and yes, possibly dangerous activities that I and my friends participated in over time. My friends knew it was going to be an exciting day if I preface a statement with the phrase, “Hey, I was thinking wouldn’t it be exciting if we…

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