Looks Can Be Deceiving

One of my colleagues posted this on Facebook today and it inspired me to blog.  I can relate to her.  I got married too young, only 17, and as 50% of all marriages in the US go, it didn't work out.  I found myself alone with 2 kids and I needed to find a way to send them to school.  But first, I needed to finish college myself.  I had taken classes off and on over the years and managed to get two years behind me.  I knew that I needed to return to college and earn a Bachelor's Degree - I wanted to have a piece of the American Dream.  I quit my 40 hour a week job, sold my house, and moved so that I could finish college.  It wasn't an easy decision and it wasn't made without a lot of thought.  I am fortunate that I had parents who supported my decision and helped me financially, but it was still a struggle.  Yes, I went to college on Federal PELL Grants - I was a single mother of 2 and received the maximum allotment.  In return, I took a full load of classes and even asked for the Registrar's approval to carry more than a full load so that I could get out of school quicker.  My parents bought my books, paid my lab fees, and paid off the loan on my car.  Even with all this it was not enough for me to make it.  I worked as a lab rat in the Science Building - the Head of the Science Department was an older fellow that felt sorry for me (I think).  He allowed me to work all sorts of weird hours around my classes, but I only earned minimum wage.  I took a second job on the weekends as a Walmart checker.  But with both jobs I was still way below the poverty level and I was urged by my adviser to seek assistance.  I cannot fully describe to you how low I felt when I walked in to the Social Services office.  The lady who helped me was very kind as she explained what I was "eligible" to receive.  I was paying a pretty heft rent and she told me that I qualified for housing assistance, help with my utilities and "if I would quit one of my jobs - food stamps.  I took the non-visible help.  Who, but my landlord and AP&L would know that I was getting help?  I could not bring myself to take the food stamps - that was too visible. One of my friends (I will call her S) and her little girl moved in with us.  She, too, was trying to finish college.  We struggled to survive - two families living in a 2 bedroom apartment.  There are only so many ways to get creative with Hamburger Helper.  Once we found some coupons for Papa John's Pizza in the trash can at the laundry mat and we felt like we had won the lottery.  We spaced them out because we feared they were stolen and we didn't want Papa John's to call the police.  To this day I can't bring myself to eat Papa John's pizza.  Our clothes got worn out.  I wore the same pair of jeans almost daily for 2 years.  We had a balcony with railings and we would hand wash our clothes and hang them over the balcony to dry because we didn't have the money to do the wash.  I sewed my underwear back together as it fell apart.  S and I would dream of they day that we could go to Victoria's Secret and by nice underwear.  We ran out of makeup but S's sister worked at the Clinique Counter at Dillards and she gave us samples.  We cut our own hair and shared clothes.  S also got a Bedazzler and we bedazzled every shirt and pair of jeans we owned to make them look different. One Christmas I sold my blood plasma as many times as the red cross would allow to get money to buy my gifts.  I could go on and on but my point is - we never looked poor, but we were poor as church mice.  We just got assistance that was non-visible. We both went on to graduate college and have spent many years having social security held out of our checks and I think we have repaid out debt.   I have been reading all these hateful posts on Facebook about people receiving aid.  We don't know their stories.  Many of those who have posted the hateful things are the very people who have gone through college on Federal PELL grants, low interest student loans, received WICK and other types of aid.  Please think before you judge others or slam the government programs that provide aid to those in need.  I know there are many that use the system as a way of life, but there are equally as many who only use it as a means to an end.
Respectfully, a "former" assistance recipient.

California Dreamin'

I just returned from my first trip to California.  My son, Ryan, has lived in LA for 11 years and my cousin, Wayne, for 21 years.  My idea of what LA is like had been shaped by TV, movies, and things Ryan and Wayne had told me.  I was so wrong. 

Having grown up in such a tiny town I dread having to go to large towns and cities.  I do OK with Little Rock and Springfield but I panic if I have to drive in Dallas, St. Louis, Kansas City or Memphis.  All of these places, especially Dallas, are what I call "run and gun" places to drive.  People drive fast, then slam on their brakes, cut you off and flip you off.  So to my surprise LA wasn't like this.  When Ryan picked me up at the airport we took a surface street and not the freeway and I was thinking to myself that it was not bad at all but dreaded when the time came to take the freeway.  Again, to my surprise, it wasn't that bad.  The speed limit was 65 mph and people let you over when you turned on your blinker and I heard very few horns and didn't see anyone get upset (maybe I was just there at a good time).  Ryan did tell me that traffic moves slowly so everyone is either very early or very late depending on  traffic.  But enough on LA traffic.

Wayne had helped me choose a hotel on Beverly Drive. It was only 5 minutes from his home in West Hollywood and about 10 minutes from Ryan's job.  It was across from CBS Studios and the LA Farmer's Market and just down the street from the Beverly Center.  It was safe for me to walk by myself to stores and restaurants.  I quickly fell in love with the Farmer's Market.  It was colorful, busy, and a fun place to people watch.  I walked there most mornings (my body stayed on Central Time so I was always awake before Ryan or Wayne (who ever was my tour guide for the day) was ready to go.  At the Market there are stalls that sell all kinds of food, fresh produce, meats, and souvenirs.  Bob's Donuts became my favorite morning haunt.  You could get a large coffee and a bear claw for $2.75 and it is located near an entrance so it was a great place to people watch.

Wayne was an excellent tour guide.  He took me (and sometimes Ryan would be with us) to Hollywood where I saw the Walk of  Fame, Grauman's Chinese Theater, the Roosevelt Hotel, we went to Griffith Park and the Observatory, where the views of the city are breathtaking.  I was so impressed that Wayne could look down and point out the individual buildings and roads.  We then drove Mulholland Drive (gorgeous, expensive homes), stopped again at an overlook and once again Wayne impressed me with his knowledge of the layout of the city.  We drove around some more, looked at some great houses in Beverly Hills, and in other areas that I don't recall where we were.  (all this on my first full day!)  I forgot to mention that Ryan had taken me to breakfast at Kitchen 24 in West Hollywood where I ordered the "Tree Hugger."  No surprise there.  Next we went to Beverly Hills and Rodeo Drive.  I'm sure I walked around with big eyes and my mouth wide open.  I saw the Beverly Wilshire Hotel and peeked inside the lobby.

Ryan lives in Silver Lake only a few miles from downtown.  Silver Lake seems so removed from the city.  It is where young people and young families live.  Ryan took me to a Vietnamese restaurant where I had Pho and tried using chopsticks (I think I will stick with a fork).  It was great and I enjoyed the experience.

The next days are a confusion of activities.  I don't remember what order we did things  but here are the highlights.  Ryan took me to the LaBrea Tarpits which was an awesome experience. There are pictures of the tar pits in my textbooks and it was fun to get to see the pits and excavation sites.  Next we went to LACMA, Los Angeles County Museum of Art.  I think we stayed there for 3 hours and I was so in awe of everything.  I saw paintings and artwork that I had only seen in books.  We could have stayed there for several hours longer but we had other plans.  For several weeks during the summer the Hollywood Forever Cemetery shows Saturday night movies on the side of a huge mausoleum.  Ryan and I went to watch "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" from the 70s.  This was a fun, albeit strange, experience.  There were probably 1200 people in attendance.  Movie goers spread blankets on the ground and brought coolers and picnic baskets to the movie.   I never got scared or felt the heebie jeebies, but it was odd.  One other note.  Ryan took me to Target (no Walmart stores in this area) and it cracked me up to use a parking deck and elevator to go to Target.

I think that next on the agenda was a trip to Canter's Deli near Wayne's home followed by a trip to downtown LA.  Again, I was so surprised at how easily the traffic flowed.  I saw the Disney Concert Hall, the infamous courthouse where the OJ and Michael Jackson trails were held, as well as many other landmark buildings. Wayne and Ryan both showed me the buildings where they used to work and/or live. That night I went to the Bootleg Bar where Ryan's band, Magic Trash, was performing.  I had not seen Ryan perform in a long time and it was a lot of fun to watch and also to meet his friends.  Their vinyl had just come in that day so that was exciting.  The record is white with a black center, which I though was very cool.

On Monday I was left to my own devices until afternoon.  I made my morning trip to the Farmer's Market and then to the Grove Shopping Center, as well as a visit to Trader Joes.  I was still restless so I walked the 1.25 miles to the Beverly Center.  Ryan used to work there and he had told me that celebrity sightings are common.  I felt so out of place there with my JC Penney clothes and since I'm not a celebrity watcher I didn't see any - they could have been on the escalator with me and I wouldn't have known.  That afternoon Ryan and Wayne were both free and we took off to Silver Lake, eating dinner at Mexico City. It was authentic Mexican food, not Tex Mex and I tried mole sauce with cocoa in it.  I love "bitter" tasting foods so was pleased with my choice.  Next we went to Prospect Studios in Silver Lake where I got a special tour of the Grey's Anatomy set and got to meet several of the crew.  This is a treat that most people don't get.  I have Wayne and Peyton to thank for this experience.  On the way back to my hotel we drove through Hollywood and it was fun to see everything all lit up and see all the people out and about.

Tuesday, Ryan and I drove down to San Pedro and caught the Catalina Express to Catalina Island.  The ferry normally takes one hour to get to Avalon but we had missed the first boat and had to take a 2 hour ferry that went to Two Harbors first.  This was fine with me because I was just sight-seeing anyway.  Two Harbors is the area where people wishing to hike and camp visit.  Avalon is gorgeous and has the feel of being in the Caribbean.  I loved it and hope to go back there someday to stay a few days.  We didn't get to see nearly as many things as we wanted because we walked, rather than rent a golf cart (lesson leaned).  We had to catch the 6 o'clock ferry back.  I did try the shrimp so I could compare Pacific shrimp to Gulf shrimp.  I like Gulf Shrimp better.  It's more tender and flavorful.

At 3:18 AM on Wednesday I was awakened by an earthquake!  I have felt small ones here but this was the largest I had ever experienced.  I thought at first that someone had pushed against my door then sat on my bed.  I sat up and realized that my bed was moving!  I grabbed my laptop and logged on to usgs.gov and saw that it was a 3.8, later downsized to a 3.7.  After my heart quit racing I fell back asleep.  Later that morning Wayne and I headed to Pasadena.  Pasadena is beautiful and lush.  I loved looking at the older homes there.  We went to Huntington Gardens and Museum.  The gardens are amazing, especially the Cactus and Japanese gardens.  I don't even know where to start to describe the museum.  It gave me chills to know that I was looking at the original Pinkie and Blueboy, Madonna and Child and the Gutenberg Bible.  There are hundreds of works of art there and everyone should go see them if given the opportunity.  Wayne then drove me to see the Rose Bowl and through Burbank, pointing out all the different studios. Following that we went to Venice Beach and walked the Boardwalk just enjoying the view of the ocean and watching the odd people along the boardwalk.  Wayne took me back to my hotel and we said goodbye.  I enjoyed all the time that I spent with Wayne and appreciated all that he did for me.

On my last night in LA Ryan took me back downtown to Bottega Louie.  It's upbeat and trendy. You can go casual or dress up.  It was a great experience and food was great.  Following that I returned to my last night in LA.

Morning came quickly and Ryan picked me up about 11 to go back to LAX.  My heart was heavy as I had to leave.  Those of you who have children living far away can relate to this.  I missed JC and home but it tore me apart to have to say goodbye. I went through security and went to the restroom to shed a few tears.

I hope to return to LA and take things a little slower the next time.  I've seen the "touristy" stuff and would like to relax a bit more on the next trip.  A lot of my friends and family have commented to me that they would be scared to make a trip like that alone.  I was never scared, apprehensive is more appropriate.  I love to see new places, explore and rise to new challenges even though sometimes I'm fighting down my anxiety.

I encourage each of you to pick something that you are apprehensive about and challenge yourself to tackle whatever it is.  There is so much to see and experience out there - just go for it.

The Best Day Ever

I haven't blogged in quite awhile.  I have to be in the mood to write and life has a way of getting in the way.  I had a tough 4th quarter at school and many days I just wanted to run away and never look back. I seriously thought about not signing my contract for 12-13 and finding another way to earn a paycheck.  But as the proverb states; "This too shall pass" and it did.  A little time away from school did wonders for my attitude.  I enjoyed my two weeks at ASU Jonesboro, getting to know teachers from other areas, getting re-aquainted with former colleagues, and meeting new students. It was good for my morale and with a lighter heart I signed my contract yesterday.  But that is not what I intended to write about.  I want to tell you about our trip to Port Aransas.

Port Aransas is on the eastern tip of Mustang Island, TX.  You can come in from Aransas Pass and take the car ferry or you can come in from Corpus Christi, cross the causeway bridge and drive the length of the island.  We had never been there before.  The only beach in TX that I had been to was Galveston and I find it to be ugly there.  I have friends who have been to South Padre and they talk of its beauty but it was a little too far for us to travel.  I had never heard of Mustang Island until  a few years ago.  I picked up a Travel Texas magazine at the visitor's center and happened on to a page about Mustang Island and Port Aransas.  I thought it looked like a place that we would like, but forgot about it.  In 2008, Hurricane Ike damaged the area and the images were shown on the news.  Again, I forgot about it.  Earlier in the year (during my troubling 4th quarter) I was watching Burt Wolf Travels and he was in Port Aransas.  It captured my attention and seemed to lure me out of my deep dark funk.  I asked JC what he thought about vacationing there and got the standard "whatever you want to do Dear" answer.  I couldn't stop thinking about it and then another idea popped into my head.  My daughter, Misty, and her family live in McKinney, TX, which is halfway between my home and Mustang Island.  Maybe they would like to vacation with us!  I wasn't sure if they though a vaycay with the old folks would be fun, but to my surprise they agreed to go. 

Thus began the search for a beach house or condo that would house eight.  I began to panic as time after time I was told that everything was booked up for the week of July 4th.  We had to vacation that week because JC's company shuts down that week each year.  I finally sent an e-mail to every rental on the island stating our range of dates and budget, asking for input.  I got a reply from Beachcomber rentals.  We could get a cabana that sleeps 10, but only for 3 nights.  I took it and the plans began.

We arrived on the Island on Monday July 1st about 1 pm after a 7 1/2 drive from McKinney.  Drew, Lily and Reid were tired of being in the car and ready to see the beach.  We ate first at a seafood place called Fins.  I wouldn't recommend it if you're ever there.  It was over priced and the food wasn't good.  The service was pretty much non-existent.  We had to ask for a waiter to take our order.  The grandkids thought it was neat because the outside tables were on a deck over the harbor where you could see the boats and the gulls would come eat out of your hand.  They were too excited to eat anyway.  From there we found our cabana and got checked in.  It was a bit run down but good enough for country folks.  We were close to the beach and it was quiet.  We had  2 bbq grills and plenty of kitchen supplies so we didn't eat out much.  We had been told that there was only one IGA store on the island and that it was pricey.  That's true...and their credit/debit card machine went on the fritz.  There are few chains on the island.  We saw a Subway, a DQ, and a WhatABurger.  There's no WalMart or Dollar General.  You need to bring what you can with you.  Misty and Jason went out to a Roosevelt's Restaurant, which is fine dining, but were disappointed with the food and service there, though the other patrons were entertaining and they got to meet the mayor.   JC and I happened on to a seafood restaurant called Moby Dick's which I would recommend to anyone going there.  The food, prices and service were great.  Our waiter was a baseball player for A&M and he had traveled to Missouri to play ballgames.  We enjoyed talking with him.

Once we had settled into the cabana, the kiddos couldn't wait to hit the beach so we headed to the water.  Mustang Island beaches are not pretty like Florida and Alabama.  There's no white sugar sand and the seaweed washes in by the ton.  But it does have its merits. The water is warm and the waves are great for boarding.  The kids would ride the waves until they were exhausted.  Lily informed us that she loved the beach and wanted to live there forever.  The time flew by and before we knew it, our last night had arrived.  It was July 4th and we went to the fireworks display.  We all oohed and awed and clapped our hands.  As the fireworks finale was starting Lily looked at me and said, "Nana, this is just like on Sponge Bob. It's "The Best Day Ever."  That said it all for me.  All the driving and packing was worth it.

Spongebob Squarepants
The Best Day Ever lyrics

Songwriters: PALEY, ANDY / KENNY, THOMAS

Mr. Sun came up and he smiled at me.
Said it's gonna be a good one just wait and see.
Jumped out of bed and I ran outside, feeling so extra-ecstatic-fied.

It's the best day ever! (Best day ever)
It's the best day ever! (Best day ever)

I'm so busy got nothing to do,
Spent the last two hours just tie my shoe.
Every flower, every grain of sand, is reaching out to shake my hand.

It's the best day ever! (Best day ever)
It's the best day ever! (Best day ever)

Sometimes the little things start closing in on me,
When I'm feeling down, I wanna lose that frown
I stick my head out the window and I look around.

Those clouds don't scare me they can't disguise,
This magic that's happening right before my eyes.
Soon Mr.Moon will be shining bright,
So the best day ever can last all night.
Yeah the best day ever's gonna last all night now.

It's the best day ever! (Best day ever)
It's the best day ever! (Best day ever)
It's the best day ever! (Best day ever)
It's the best day ever! (Best day ever)
(Best day ever)
(Best day ever)

It's Picher - not Pitcher!

All my life I've listened to the stories that Mom would tell about growing up in Picher, Oklahoma. She told us about the White Bird Elementary School, working at the drug store and as a car hop. We heard about how her step-father, Paul Brown, was killed in a mining accident in Cardin, the next town over. We heard about her little brother and sister, who were born and died there and the trips to Baxter Springs, Kansas to shop and riding the train from Carthage, Missouri to Summit, Arkansas when they would come home for a visit. But I will admit I never gave Picher much real thought. I'd never been there and the only things I ever knew about mines were the zinc mines in Rush, Arkansas where Mom would live when she wasn't in Oklahoma. All these years passed without my giving Picher a thought.

In May 2008 I was in my kitchen and I heard something on the news about Picher, Oklahoma. I ran to the TV and they were showing images from Picher. An EF4 tornado had nearly wiped Picher off the map. (As an aside note: This was the first time that I realized it was spelled Picher, not Pitcher). I watched with horror as they showed the devastation. After all, this was Mom's childhood home and I felt a connection.

As the days went by there were more stories on the news about Picher that caught my attention. But one in particular pulled me to the TV like a magnet. I heard the news anchor say "the tornado just saved the government a lot of money." He said that the town of Picher was part of the Tar Creek Superfund Site. SUPERFUND SITE! "What?" I have taught High School Environmental Science for several years and discussed the superfund sites with my students and had no idea what was going on in Picher. I began to read up on this and what I have learned makes me sick inside.

The town of Picher was established in 1917. Zinc was discovered, World War I was being fought and zinc was needed. The nearby towns of Cardin, and Treece, Kansas, along with Picher became the world's leading suppliers of zinc. Picher boomed to a population of 25,000 but after the War people left until World War II and the mines boomed again. After WW II the population dropped to 1500. Then the real problems began. Picher is caving in, (Mom told me that at one time you could walk underground from Picher, OK to Joplin, MO in the mine tunnels), the mines are filling with water and waste water filled with lead is leaching into the soil, the mountains of chat piles leach lead laced water when it rains. I read that the kids would play on the chat piles (which my mom had done) or played in the drainage ditches. If the kids ate without washing their hands, the lead would get in their blood stream and then travel to their brains. Learning disabilities became common in the Picher/Cardin school.

The water in Picher is rusty looking. There is a documentary called The Creek Runs Red and another one called Tar Creek that profiles the demise of Picher. A&E produced a series called Life After People and they also profiled the town. All of this really got my attention and I decided to go see it for myself.

JC and I, armed with the camera, and notes that a lady I met in a flea market in Miami gave me, headed up Oklahoma highway 69 to Picher. I had read that the chat piles were so big that they could be seen on Google Earth but I was not prepared for what I saw. It was like a small mountain range. They are everywhere. What few houses that are left are falling down and condemned. The water tower still stands, a few buildings and some signs. You can see the foundations from the houses that were blown away or have been bulldozed by the Superfund crews. Mom said that she had lived between the Christian Church and the Masonic Lodge on South Picher St. It was like finding a needle in a haystack. Most of the street signs were gone and many of the streets were blocked off for safety reasons. We drove, walked, looked and looked until we saw a church! We walked up to it and it was the Christian Church. It was the only structure left on the block. I called Mom and asked her some questions.  She said to look to the right and see if the ball field was still there. It was. I looked for the drainage ditches that Mom described and found some - filled with red water! I found Tar Creek and it was filled with red water too. I have to say that this was one of the saddest places I've ever been. Yet, it was home for so many.

When we first got to Miami I wanted to get some information from the museum but it was closed. There was a flea market across the street and I went in to look around. A little lady there asked me why I was visiting Miami. I told her I had come to see Picher and she said "Honey, don't you know, it's gone?" I told her what I knew and why I was there and she told me this story: It's the story of Jackie Birzzale. Jackie's family had always lived in Picher. She was a third generation resident. Jackie never married and taught school in Stillwell, Oklahoma. She would ride the bus to Stillwell, where she kept an apartment, but on the weekends, holidays and in the summer, she returned to Picher. Jackie was very old in 2010 when they were told that everyone had to be out by a certain day in August or the police would come and force you to leave. Jackie's house had survived the tornado of 2008 and she refused to leave. The police told her that she could stay one last night and they would get her the next day. Jackie died that night. They found her the next day still kneeling in prayer by her bedside. The found no cause of death. The story gave me chills. Picher was her home.

I thought about Jackie as we looked around the area and how much she must have loved that town, as did others. The mascot for Picher school was the Gorilla, which I thought was an odd mascot. The last night that we were in Miami I was walking out of a convenience store and saw a guy, probably around 25, and he had on a shirt that said: Picher Gorillas, Once a Gorilla, Always a Gorilla. I thought of Jackie and smiled.

Pass the Platter Please

I love old, or as some call them, vintage dishes. When I got married, at age 17 (yikes) - but that's another blog, I received a lot of dishes as gifts. It shocks me when I see those same patterns in antique stores or flea markets. I guess I don't think of 39 year old dishes as being antique or even vintage. Go figure. I love dishes from the 40s and 50s. I'm a sucker for old refrigerator dishes with lids, anything by Fire King or Anchor Hocking. I can spend hours digging through junk looking for a great find.

I have also inherited a lot of dishes from my aunts - some really great stuff. I use all my dishes. They're not just to look at. JC worries that we will break something but I think the previous owners would want me to use and enjoy them.

I think about the history of those dishes. If they could talk, what would they tell me? Aunt Joyce had lot's of cool glassware. I finished out an entire set of Anchor Hocking pressed glass beginning with the pieces that I inherited. It took me several years and I bought pieces all over the US. When we travel I always keep an eye out for a piece that I may have overlooked. I have Aunt Ethel's dishes too. I have an amazing set of dishes that Uncle Jack bought her when he was stationed in Alaska during World War II. I have the pastel colored metal glasses that koolaid always tasted sooooo cold it. I even have the matching long teaspoons that came with them.

I could go on and on but there are 2 pieces that I really love. Platters. I have a platter that Mom gave me that I believe belonged to her great-grandma (she will correct me if I'm wrong). And I have a platter that belonged to an elderly lady who lived one farm over from JC when he was growing up. Mom's platter is a Favolina China, made in Poland. It's a large, heavy platter that can hold a lot of food. It has blue flowers on it and is in mint condition. I use that one with care. The other smaller platter is a Homer Laughlin and it shows a lot of wear. I always imagine that there was probably a lot of chicken, pork chops and catfish served on it. If only they could talk.

I think many of the families today don't take time to sit down and leisurely eat meals. People want to set a nice table for holidays but the day to day dinner table is slowly being replaced by the pizza boxes and chicken buckets.

As for me I would much rather hear "pass the platter please" instead of pass the bucket.