A Luminous Halo

Park Update

2011-08-12T00:29:00.005-04:00

One thing I've learned from studying demographics and statistics is that interpreting trends can be dangerous. If it was 80 degrees the day before yesterday, 81 degrees yesterday, and 82 today, I might conclude that by December 31 it will be 215 degrees, with no relief in sight. But of course that's ridiculous. Looking at a much larger stretch of the graph, we see that temperatures cycle up and then down again, over and over. The further we step back, the larger the context, the more accurate a prediction we can make about the weather, or the population, or anything else.

That's one of the reassurances I'm always giving the doom-and-gloom people. Sometimes it seems that most everyone I know believes that everything is getting worse--the economy, the environment, the educational system, teenagers' taste in music, you name it. Oh, and the world is going to end in 2012. I'm pretty cranky myself these days, and could probably use some of my own advice to just chill.

This morning I walked around the block with the dog, circumventing Armoury Common Park in the process. I was delighted to notice a young man wearing a bright red t-shirt (think: gang color) and lots of gold bling--a kid I know to be homeless and on drugs--industriously picking up trash all over the park and neatly bussing it in the cans. He caught my eye and gave me a cheery wave.

This evening I walked around the block with my dog, circumventing Armoury Common Park in the process. The park was empty and tranquil, as it should have been at that late hour, the gates closed with big chains and padlocks near the sign that reads, "Park closed at dusk."

What's going on? Are the park denizens taking stewardship of their own space? Are the police actually patrolling? Has a park ranger put this overlooked little space on notice? Is the apartment management once again abiding by the maintenance covenant struck in 1977 between the city and themselves?

I don't know. And I'm not foolishly idealistic. But the sight of my gangsta homie picking up litter has lifted my spirits all day.

Messy Park

2011-08-08T17:00:00.002-04:00

Armoury Common is a jewel-like pocket park on the corner of Spring and Pearl Streets in Springfield. It dates from the 70s, when the area was rehabbed with lots of HUD money. In an attempt to attract working people to downtown, a group of apartment buildings were renovated, tennis courts were added, and this park was built. The gentrification didn't quite stick. The apartments started accepting Section 8, the tennis courts became basketball courts, and the park got rather run down.

Two years ago, probably because a new federal courthouse was being built nearby, the park was completely renovated. I was happy to see that the original design elements (cobblestones, river rocks, gilded amillary sundial, funky old-fashioned streetlamps and benches) were kept. In Springfield, you always have to worry that stone- and brickwork will be demolished and replaced by concrete. But in this case, the original vision was adhered to.

New sod was laid, some bushes were planted, and a new irrigation system was put in to water the whole business. The pump in the fountain was repaired and actually turned on. The river rock basin was repaired, and the sundial removed, regilded, and replaced. A statue which had been languishing in a closed park was relocated here. When the work was complete, the mayor and assorted bigwigs showed up for a ribbon-cutting.

I've got my own ideas about what should have been done to this park (it's purposely not kid-friendly, for starters), but the effort was certainly better than nothing. Unfortunately, the space is rapidly going to hell again. And why wouldn't it? This park has a bunch of posted rules, but no enforcement. It's never locked or patrolled by park rangers, police, or Armoury Commons staff. The shady corners make it a perfect haven for drinking and drugging. Nobody in her right mind would take a lunch break here or bring kids to play.

Here's a photo of the corner of the park nearest to me. This was taken about four hours after a park employee cleaned up the entire area. There are two trash barrels within fifteen feet of this spot.

Pointy Turkish Shoes

2011-07-14T19:18:00.007-04:00

I know, I know....I'm broke. But today's my "birthday" (long story; I'm actually a boring Capricorn), and female + birthday = shoes. In my case, cruel, pointy shoes.

I recently discovered a little shop run by a throaty-voiced woman named Tanya. She's got the pointiest shoes in town, and I vowed to go back on the flimsiest excuse, so this morning found me there. I'm a European size 37, and there were plenty of 37s to choose from, one more evil than the next. Unfortunately, they all looked better in the box than on my foot, or else they looked great but felt as painful as they looked. I had just about talked myself out of a purchase when Tanya emerged from behind a wall and in her husky, exotically-accented voice suggested a particular style in a size 38. They are made in Turkey, she told me, as if that explained why a 38 fit perfectly.

Tanya was on the money. They were pointy, comfortable, flattering. She was pleased, I was pleased, and I hope the shoes are pleased. Happy birthday to me!

Live Painting with Josh Oliveira

2011-04-29T01:38:00.003-04:00

Interesting event just four blocks from my house tonight. As a fundraiser for the Springfield Arts Initiative, the Young Professional Society of Greater Springfield had a nice little cocktail party inside the lobby of the Sovereign Bank Building. There was a bar, there were hors d'oeuvres, there was loud and peppy music spun by DJ Mike Grant, there was plenty of mixing and mingling. The focus of the evening, however, was a paint-in by artist Joshua Oliveira, who created the work on the easel during the event. In fact, the music and everything else is what gets him in the zone to paint. He draws his inspiration from the vibe of the crowd.

"I had no idea what I was going to paint tonight until I picked up my brush," he told me.

I asked him if he names his paintings, and he said he does. The paint hadn't even dried on the canvas, however, when I asked the question. He'll have to "sit down and have a conversation" with the work before he figures out its name.

That's Josh Oliveira in the Mona Lisa shirt, and Evan Plotkin talking to him. Plotkin owns the building and donated the space for the event. You can see other art on the walls; there's always some kind of exhibit up in that lobby, thanks to Plotkin. Anyone can walk in and walk around during business hours. I don't bank with Sovereign, but I treat the lobby like an extension of my own living room.

I liked this event because it reminds us that art isn't made in a vacuum. It's not just about some tortured genius alone in his garret. It takes more than an artist to make art: you also need a patron, and an audience. In Springfield, we have plenty of all three.

Bombay Cat Playing

2011-04-11T23:37:00.002-04:00

Here's a little video of Lucy, a.k.a. Irma Vep, the Bombay cat, playing with a homemade toy. It doesn't take much to amuse a cat.

Diary April 10, 1960: Books Are My Refuge on a Noisy Palm Sunday

2011-04-10T20:22:00.003-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

I finished several books, I hardly know where I stand. I wore my new shoes today, they're so pretty.

My cousins were here, I had to go up here, in the bedroom, and read, they were making so much noise.

I'm thinking up a story, about Kathy, Gilda, and I; and a poem about a Kitten. But the poem only has four lines, so far, and the story's just being thought up.

I was kind of hoping Lyndon would be here, but he wasn't. And Mom say's she doesn't know when John & David are coming."

The "noisy cousins" were my maternal cousins, who lived nearby and who were around all the time. John and David were my paternal cousins, whom I rarely saw and who were therefore exotic and interesting. Lyndon was a neighbor boy my age. He actually lived with his mother in New Hampshire, and only visited his father on weekends. Divorce was something not in my universe, and I think I was in high school before I figured out why he wasn't always around.

Diary April 9, 1960: I Find a Dollar

2011-04-09T14:03:00.004-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

Today Gilda, Kathy, and I went to the Arcade and saw 'Who Was That Lady?'. It was terrific. We had some spare time before the movie, and so we went to the museum. I hadn't remembered it was so beautiful! Then I found a dollar on the steps, so I showed it to the lady there. Gil, Kathy, and I (and maybe Leslie) will go next Sat. I'll claim the dollar if it's still there.

I showed Gilda and Kathy my shoes, and Gilda stayed for lunch, so I showed her my dress.

At Steiger's there was a fountain, so we threw in pennies (my pennies). I finished 'Maggie Rose,' it was wonderful."

Diary April 8, 1960: The Beginning of My Love Affair with Cruel Shoes

2011-04-08T13:55:00.002-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

Today I got my Easter shoes. Also a pair of red slippers. But the shoes! Higher heels than I had hoped, and toes so pointed, even Mother's aren't like that!

It snowed today, when I woke up, then changed to rain, afterwards.

We went to Torrozi's after buying the shoes, I had a clam dinner.

We made a coffee cake in cooking, forgot to light the oven, creamed the topping (just what we weren't supposed to do.) But it was good! Unit 2 used salt instead of sugar in their topping. Ugh! Science was fun. We tried a trick, (it didn't work), talked about Heaven."

Diary April 7, 1960: Easy Method for Getting Better Marks

2011-04-07T15:20:00.004-04:00

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"Bette's Birthday

Dear Diary--

Mr. Jorgenson for Math, and Mrs. Holmes for Eng. Tina changed places with David in Sci--I think it'll mean a better mark for me. I passed in my Social note-book. Kathy gave me a quarter of what she owed me, so I bought a card for Bette, she liked it,--

I did some more on Unit Four, got some ideas from Gilda. I started reading Hobby Horse Hill (I started it before, but couldn't get interested). It's really good. I finished Forty-Seven Keys, and I decided to use a fountain pen for school. My books so far are Simba, Unit Four, Us Modern Teens, Magic Spell of Scotland, & The Oddballs."

Diary April 6, 1960: Double Decker!!!!!

2011-04-06T15:01:00.002-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

I started a story (short story) called 'Unit Four'. About us. That (Apr. 5) story is shaping up, too.

I didn't do my Science, I couldn't understand it, but I'll see if Janice can explain it. (We had Mrs. Holmes for Eng.) We did algebra in Sci, saw a good program on 'Play of the Week,' some Jewish stories, test in Gym. I think I got 100. (or 95)

Cooking was a riot. We made baking powder biscuits. 13 of them. Just as we were about to put them in the oven, Mrs. Fink caught us. "Only eight." So we put some one-on-top-of-another. And how funny they looked! Double decker!!!!!"

Diary April 5, 1960: My Latest Ambition: Loan Shark

2011-04-05T14:53:00.003-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

I am making quite a profit by loaning money, 30 cents from Kathy, 1 1/2 cents a day from Gilda. I'll be rich! (someday)

Forty-seven Keys is getting more and more interesting.

I have a new idea for a book, all I need is the family's last name."

Diary April 4, 1960: By Hook or By Crook

2011-04-04T20:40:00.003-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

Today I made popcorn balls, 7 of them, and they were good.

I practiced riding the bike, I'm getting better.

Miss Corcoran came in 1st per. I chose music for 8th grade (of course)

Miss Weissbrod is back.

It was so warm today, you didn't need a coat. Maria, Leslie, & I fooled around in the afternoon, and Maria came over for a while after supper. We invented a new cheer--10 lines. (about winning--by hook or by crook)"

Diary April 3, 1960: Miet's Got a New Trick

2011-04-03T19:31:00.003-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

I tried to make popcorn balls, but the popcorn just wouldn't pop. My mother said the popcorn must be near 15 years old.

Leslie went to the movies, but I went to Kathy's. But not until she came here for a while. We played records, and Aunt Helen and the boys came.

Miet's got a new trick--a metal can of peanuts. I suspected it was a trick, so I wouldn't take any. I was right. When Kathy unscrewed the top, out pops a 'snake' of amazing length! (Scared her to death!)

I haven't finished all my homework, but I can do it in school.

I balanced my account (last time) and, it balances.--And--Kitchy's been found.

(I got some more money from Mom, too)"

Diary April 2, 1960: Time to Pick a Confirmation Name

2011-04-02T23:47:00.002-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

Bondsville today. Fun. Stephie has a new sewing machine, so Kathy can keep her old one. We're working on a mystery about that house. Kathy and I had loads of fun with the machine--it's the kind with the pedal you work back and forth--an old-fashioned Singer.

Uncle Eddie came--Rockport doesn't sound so bad any more--we called California.--everything's fine out there, it's Sandy's birthday. They're painting their bedroom lavendar, it's already been started.

I can't think of a good mystery, darn.

No test in Catechism. Confirmation this year, pretty soon, what for my name?"

Bondsville was the rural town where some of my best friend Kathy's relatives lived: a nearly deaf granny and some aunts in an old farmhouse, if I remember rightly. They were Polish immigrants who spoke little English. Between that and the deafness, communication was nearly nil. My own grandmother was also a Polish immigrant, though, so I was used to it.

Rockport, MA was the beach town where my Uncle Eddie had decided we would begin vacationing, instead of Harwichport, MA. Every year Cape Cod was getting more crowded, and he wanted to move operations northward. It was a good decision. Some of my happiest memories are of Rockport. I used to fantasize about living there; at one point in my life, I had the means to do it, but somehow thought for such a magical place I needed special dispensation. Now I've got the nerve but not the money.

My confrmation name ended up being Margaret Mary. I'm ashamed to report that I picked it (although I made up a plausible story to tell the sisters of St. Joseph) purely so that my initials would be CMMMC.

Diary April 1, 1960: Mother and I Play Pranks on One Another

2011-04-01T23:33:00.002-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

April Fool's Day! Mother told me, when I got up, that I had a cut on my forehead, so I stood there like a fool, 'til I remembered. Then I told Mother I was caught talking and was punished with a ten-page composition! Just as she started a lecture, I said 'April Fool.'

Popcorn balls in cooking--they were delicious! We had so much, we ate half and had the required 8 balls left. I ate one & gave one to Miss Goodhines. Can't you just see her making a 'pot of tea' for--a popcorn ball! And Miss Goodhines! Eating popcorn balls!

I went to Gilda's--we danced to 'Flamenco,' 'Holiday in Rio,' 'Espanole.' I saw Bette on the bus."

An April Observance

2011-04-01T17:40:00.006-04:00

Winter's tufts of white

Are falling softly on spring's

The pussy-willow.

Diary March 31, 1960: No Base, No Talent!

2011-03-31T20:52:00.003-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

I read two books today, and most of a third. I can probably finish it by tomorrow morning.

I made a painting in art, which I showed to Mr. Lussier along with 'Parade' and 'Trumpets in the Wind.' Alma & Tina had some too, but just circles and lines. No base, no talent! I ended the day with a creepy hour of 'The Bat.' It was different, anyway. When they unmasked the Bat there was no triumphant pause, the roll of drums, and the slow lifting of the mask. No music at all, in fact, and they picked off the mask so fast! (It was the man who had been impersonating Mr. Anderson, the stranger at the end was the real one)."

I am aghast as I read these lines I wrote so many years ago. "No base, no talent!" Ha ha ha! Whatever happened to Tina I have no idea, but Alma went on to acquire not one but two degreees in art and assemble an impressive portfolio. She's a set dresser and costumer, a member in good standing of IATSE (the International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees, Moving Picture Technicians, Artists and Allied Crafts of the United States, Its Territories and Canada). She's worked at Yale Repertory Theater, Lincoln Center, Jacob's Pillow, New York Shakespeare Festival, City Stage, MIFA, etc. etc. As I type this she's in New York City, working on the movie Men in Black III. Good thing I wasn't one of her teachers, saying that to her face. I might've ruined a stellar career!

Diary March 30, 1960: I Learn to Tell a Joke Properly

2011-03-30T20:42:00.004-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

I just finished 'Special Year' (I finished another book I'd already started, then read all of that.) It was terrific.

In cooking we made peanut butter cookies, Mom likes them.

In volleyball I'm getting better, at least the ball goes up now!

I tried the joke about the 'Spiral Staircase' on Mom, and it worked! (I didn't think she was the type). It worked on Leslie, too.

Then I tried Dad. He said he didn't know what the Spiral Staircase was. Then I explained I meant a Spiral Staircase, any one. And it worked!"

Diary March 29, 1960: I Love You David

2011-03-29T20:21:00.002-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

What a mess! A while ago Edie gave me a note to take to David Tebaldi. From Kathy I found out it was unsigned, said 'I love you David' on it, and everyone thinks I sent it. Well, I'll try to straighten it out.

That contest, I've about given up on it. I've found--you'd never guess--1,071 Pyramid of Values'. Whew!

(p.s. What's the word for 'fence' in French? (for my homework?)"

Diary March 28, 1960: Chase Away the Blues with This!

2011-03-28T21:05:00.004-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

Today I found the strangest thing awaiting me, on coming home. I was about to throw it away, & of all things, it was a contest, in which I had 30 chances for--a Catalina! But such a hard contest--a pyramid of values.

Ordered 3 books today--Cress Delahanty, Afraid to Ride, Best Short Shorts, they all seem good.

Next time is for--dividends.

Had a 'shocking experience' in Science today, the whole class held hands, it was a kind of tingling feeling.

Chase away the blues with this!--

Oh, what a terrible morning, Oh, what a terrible day, I've got a terrible feeling, Nothing is going my way. (same expression as actual song, soon you're singing right words (it works--for me!)"

Diary March 27, 1960: Mom Saves the Day...with Hand-me-downs

2011-03-27T02:54:00.002-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

Today I thought would be a total failure. But Mom saved it. At about 3:00 she called me upstairs, and I tried on everything from bathing suits to genuine Saks Fifth Avenue dresses and blouses. And so many things fit, that really hung on me last year! (In the fall). Then I picked out some blue velveteen slacks (kind of baggy), patent leather pumps, a gray beret, pink (very bright) and white-striped blouse (buttons covered with the material) and, over that, a bright yellow cotton jacket with brass buckles. I pinned a corsage on the lapel, and walked around like that.

I finished copying 'Simba.'

P.S. Made up with Kathy--good or bad?"

Dirty Street

2011-03-26T23:55:00.004-04:00

Here's my street a couple of hours after the city "cleaned" it. Two big street sweepers came down one side of Salem, one behind the other, then came back and went down the other side. So why does the street look so crappy?

Salem is one way, with parking on the even side only. Therefore, the cars drive way over to the left, and debris tends to be blown over to the right, where it lodges under cars and settles. The sweepers came early in the morning when my side of the street was lined solid with cars. They could get way over to one side--but that side was clean anyway. When they made the other pass, they had to keep to the middle of the street--but that was clean anyway. Therefore, they picked up practically nothing.

By mid-morning, there wasn't a car on the block, as you can see. The foreground is clean because that's in front of my house and I went out and cleaned it myself with a broom. It took me a couple of hours to dig out all the mud and wet leaves and bag them.

I don't understand why the city bothers to use resources if they don't plan intelligently. This operation was a waste of manpower and gasoline. Why not arrange for cars to be off the street before cleaning? Kind of like throwing everybody out of the family room before you vacuum it? If a housewife can figure that out, somebody at the DPW ought to be able to as well.

Diary March 25, 1960: I Write a Cliffhanger

2011-03-25T23:43:00.000-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

I've decided I definitely want to take music next year. With Miss Goodhines.

We made raisin & nut muffins today, and they were good. Next time we cook I'll give one to Miss Goodhines.

I went to Gil's today. We made up a story (movie, really) about 'The Fall of Babylon. Not the [way] it actually happened, our own way. With our own names for the people & countries. And I finally wrote out 'Almost Human.' I'm just at the part where Danny is walking along. In three seconds he'll slip & fall. But we'll have to leave him in mid-air, practically, Mom says Go to bed! and I'm afraid to finish it now."

Diary March 24, 1960: Off to a Good Start!

2011-03-24T21:56:00.006-04:00

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"Dear Diary

I am off to a good start for this marking period, my goal, straight A's.

I forgot to bring my math book home--what a time?

Gilda says sometime soon we'll clean up the doll house, when, I don't know.

I put some perfume on my hands to tease Tina, phwew!, even now it's terrible,...I bought a coconut today...named the Lippizan Charlemagne...

Kept cash account, what a lot of business! Tomato juice, gingerbread, candy, candy, candy.

Thinking about poems & stories."

I'm not sure what I could've meant by being off to a "good start." Forgetting to bring my math book home? Does that count?

The Lippizan I refer to was a little china horse for my collection. I used to be horse crazy and beg for horse figurines from every tacky gift shop we ever visited. I don't remember where I picked up this particular statuette, but I do remember why I liked Lippizaners. My Uncle Eddie, the person who did the most to expand my horizons when I was a child, had taken me to see the Austrian Lippizaner stallions doing dressage at the Eastern States Coliseum. He already knew a lot about them and was so enthusiastic that I caught the fever.

Note to my twelve-year-old self: Lippizan stallions are named according to very strict conventions. They are given the name of their sire plus the name of their dam. There are only six lines recognized by all registries worldwide. Therefore, your horse should have been named Pluto, Conversano, Maestoso, Favory, Neapolitano, or Siglavy. (That said, I still have the horse and I still call him Charlemagne.)

Diary March 23, 1960: While Others Reach for the Stars...I Make Muffins

2011-03-23T00:07:00.003-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

Report cards. My marks went down in some subjects, up in others. But I made the honor roll! (If there was one).

I've just counted my money, Miss Weissbrod says we are going to keep a cash account for 1 1/2 weeks. It better be good--it counts as a double quiz! (I've got 71 cents to start).

Muffins in cooking (I got an A, too). The muffins were good, anyway.

Mary Lea won first prize in the Science Fair. (7th graders) She's going to Boston, with Gary, the other winners, the 214 home room, Mr. McDuffee, & maybe some others."

So....while Mary Lea and Gary were getting down to business with their science projects, I was concentrating on getting an A in muffin-making. ("Mary Lea" was Mary Lea Driftmier, whose father was pastor of South Congregational Church for over two decades. "Gary" was Gary Mullett, who now chairs the department of electronic systems technology at STCC.) I don't remember which projects were theirs....but something tells me they weren't the ones all made out of frosting.

Dumb Irishwoman Goes to a Party

2011-03-22T21:42:00.010-04:00

I never partied with the Shah, or with Andy Warhol, or with Malcolm Forbes. But hey, they're all dead, and I'm still here. The tent city of Persepolis has gone back to sand, the Palais Mendoub is a government residence, and the Factory's been torn down. Fortunately for me, the Three Sisters Sanctuary is going strong, Richard Richardson throws amazing parties, and I'm always on the guest list. This time it was a St. Patrick's Day party...a couple of days late, but that was more than made up for by its being Saturday night AND the night of the Supermoon.

I can't think of a better place (that I could get to without a jet) for watching a full moon. Richard's land looks to be a former cow pasture, in the middle of nowhere with no other houses or streetlights or other signs of human habitation. One of the draws, particularly of the warm-weather outdoor parties, is the darkness. You stumble around on paths lit only by torches or jack o'lanterns. You can hear the drum circle or the bluegrass trio, but you can't figure out how to get to it. You huddle by the fire-breathing dragon for warmth, and see eerie shadows flickering over the visages of your fellow revelers.

But this wasn't that. This was a comfier, cozier party, with the Guinness flowing freely and the tables groaning with food. The magnificent woodstove was stoked at one end of the great room, and Phyllis LaTaille was playing Irish music at the other. Two of Richard's recent creations, "Birch Boy" and "Festive Empress," eyed each other shyly from opposite sides of the room. Leprechauns abounded. A multigenerational family of females came dressed as colleen pageant queens, their winning years proclaimed on their banners. I was in green from my hair ribbons to my boots, but my outfit paled before Richard's gem-encrusted green top hat, tie, jacket, and felt leprechaun shoes.

When the moon rose, the party moved outside, and a spontaneous group howl erupted. I howled along enthusiastically. Sorry, Mr. Lussier. I'm just a dumb Irishwoman, I guess.

Diary March 21, 1960: Science Project Made out of Frosting

2011-03-21T20:46:00.004-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

I've been reading 'Kids Say the Darndest Things.' It's wonderful. I especially liked:

What's your name? Rudigore Sitka. What kind of blood in you, with that kind of name--Red--I mean, where'd Mom & Dad come from--Well I'm a little Chicken-slovakian, Jugoslavian, French, English, Scotch, Jewish & one drop of Cherokee blood (maybe)

No science project. The Fair's wonderful. Mom & Dad & Leslie will come tomorrow. I especially liked the Ginea Pigs, & Pluto the Primitive Dog. Oh yes, and the one with a stream & mountains & grass & everything made out of frosting.

(I spent 35 cents on perfume.)"

Diary March 20, 1960: Darn, Kathy's Got Her Spell on Me Again

2011-03-20T20:30:00.002-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

What am I going to do? Here it is, Sunday night, and Monday I should have my science project,--...I guess I'll just tell them the truth, but I hope Gilda is around, anyway....

Aunt Julia's today, and Aunt Jean's, too (Jo & Jasiu gone). I painted part of Marc's beagle, ate ice cream, popcorn, cookies, played the piano....

I have to see 'A Dog of Flanders,' 'The Miracle of Saint Thérésé' & one that's playing at the Arcade. I can't remember the name.

Darn, Kathy's got her spell on me again...I just can't be mad at her, I keep thinking about how wonderful 'Girl's Town' was with her. But, I like Gil a lot more."

Note to self: next time you try throwing your intellectual weight around, please remind yourself that once upon a time you routinely did things like blow off a science project to paint part of a beagle, eat popcorn, ice cream, and cookies, play the piano, and plan not one but a whole string of forgettable movies to attend with money you borrow from yourself. AND, you have no clue where to put the accents in French words, or which accents go where. Tu devrais avoir honte!

Diary March 19, 1960: Well, That's the End of the Science Project

2011-03-19T21:12:00.002-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

Movies today, 'The Angry Red Planet' with Gil & Tina. Tina lost Gilda's pocketbook, I wonder if I'll ever get it back. (Tina looks adorable with her new haircut.)

I finished 'A Dream to Touch.' It was wonderful.

Well, that's the end of the science project, we're sure we can't finish it."

Diary March 18, 1960: Science Project Blues

2011-03-18T20:49:00.001-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

I'm working on my stories now, too. (I made a banana milkshake)

I was all for getting sick accidentally-on-purpose (on Mon.) and moped around, until lunch time. I explained my science project to Gil, and she offered to help. We picked up a piece of green cardboard (I wanted orange) and a piece of yellow colored paper from Art. We needed a Magic-Marker, so we bought one, and are 10 cents in debt.

We have plenty of ideas, and don't really expect to get it entered, but we have to have something to show Mr. McDuffee. We're going to see 'The Angry Red Planet tomorrow, at the ~~Loew's Poli~~ Capitol. (Funny how our original plans never work out, huh?)"

Diary March 17, 1960: St. Paddy's Day in the Land o' the Stereotypes

2011-03-17T22:30:00.002-04:00

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"St. Patrick's Day

Dear Diary--

Mom isn't feeling well. I guess I'm a little bit more concerned than is necessary, but she doesn't usually get sick enough to go to bed. At least she said she felt all right as long as she was in bed.

I wore a shamrock today, and a green skirt. Mr. Lussier went around with absolutely no green on, and a red tie and lapel ribbon, saying, though he now won't admit that he did, that he didn't want anyone to think he was a dumb Irishman. Miss Weissbrod called him a thick Frenchman ('dumb Irishman' was all in fun, of course).

I'm thinking of writing down 'Almost Human,' about Simba. And maybe a horse story. I've got a lot of ideas. Or maybe, 'Glory Day'."

Diary March 16, 1960: Looks Like I'm Not Destined to Be a Soap-Carver

2011-03-16T21:48:00.003-04:00

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"Dear Diary

We had a test in cooking. I think I did all right, an A or a B. I got a letter from Becky, she mentioned that she had another pen-pal in Ireland, living in a convent! I wish I could write to her. And her sister won a $3,000 scholarship.

I found an I.O.U. slip in my bank, it probably was from myself, but I paid it back (& 90 cents interest). I'm planning to go roller skating Sat. with Gilda.

I tried soap-carving, but I don't think my talent lies exactly in that field (I should hope not!)

Mother painted some of the floor red, and I think green would be good for the fireplace. (We'll see).

My science project's coming along nicely. (and I might not have to do one at all!)"

Becky Pache was my pen pal. She lived someplace in Pennsylvania. I wrote to her eagerly, but never got the enthusiastic responses I was hoping for. I found her through a children's magazine; she had published a horse story, and in a blurb at the end mentioned that she would be interested in pen pals. I was horse crazy and wrote her a long letter full of questions and opinions about horses. She replied with a curt, 'I mostly am interested in dogs, not horses.'

Diary March 15, 1960: Dubious About Swimming

2011-03-15T21:32:00.002-04:00

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"Dear Diary

'Girl's Town' ended tonight. I think. I hope not. But then I suppose I can go somewhere else, though I did want to see it again. (I want to see 'The Private Lives of Adam & Eve' with Paul Anka, too, but it hasn't come out around here yet.)

I just put more money in my bank, a total of $.50. I had a 5o cent piece, but it wouldn't fit in the slot, so it's in my jewelry box.

I'm practicing 'The Wearing of the Green' on my harmonica (trying to learn it by heart by Thursday) Got the words from music.

Wrote my story, Fritz, for art today.

Am more and more dubious about swimming after Gilda's account of it. My sidestroke!"

Diary March 14, 1960: I Want to See Girl's Town Again

2011-03-14T20:32:00.004-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

Gilda went swimming today, first time. I hope I'll be going, too. (soon) I can wear my red suit.

We had a test in Social, I think I did all right.

French, too, and I got lost (partially) after 'Comment ally vous?'

I have been wearing my hair parted, because Mom made me (it was so long) but I tried bangs today and it looks all right.

I have 15 cents in my bank, which is at least a start toward saving in general. 60 cents more (at the most) and I can go to the movies! And maybe treat Gilda. (maybe) I want to see Girl's Town again.

(P.S. Marks close Friday, March 15)"

Diary March 13, 1960: Kathy Tries to Spoil the Party

2011-03-13T17:33:00.007-04:00

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"Dear Diary--

We went to the Canton & the Paramount yesterday, but I was tired & didn't write about it then. Kathy just about tried to spoil the party, or at least did her best to, she sat through Porgy & Bess sulking because it was "horrible" and because noone had bought her popcorn (& Gil paid her way in!). Then she sat in the very front seat, and wouldn't move from there, ate hardly anything at the Canton, told the waitress outright the food was lousy, took 2 pearls off my black hat & practically ruined my mother's best pocketbook--...boy! am I mad at her! (for good, I hope). And yet Gilda handled everything so tactfully!...Father Shea said Tina could come next week, but I just found out that there was no Catechism??"

This occasion would have been Gilda Johnson's 13th birthday party. The Canton was a Chinese restaurant in downtown Springfield close to the Paramount Theater. The Paramount, built in 1926 by Ernest F. Carlson, was the largest and fanciest of the theaters. It's been closed, renovated and reopened more than once in its long history. Just recently it was bought by the New England Farm Workers Council for $86,458...less than it cost to build it! NEFWC chief Heriberto Flores has said he would like it to be used for high school and college graduations, among other things. It's a national treasure and I hope they restore it respectfully.

For a while in the early 2000s, the Paramount was owned by Mike Barrasso and Steve Stein and operated as The Hippodrome. They put over a million dollars into renovating it, which showed. I used to go dancing there and I loved it. I'm struggling to think of another club I've ever frequented, in any city in the world, in any era, which compared to the Hippodrome in its heyday. They had smoke and snow machines, Le Cirque acrobats twirling above the dance floor, stiltwalkers meandering through it, projections, go-go dancers, champagne on the balcony, gorgeous lighting, great music and an upscale crowd. Let's see what the Farm Workers have in store for the Paramount next.

Girls Town Redux

2011-03-12T14:49:00.008-05:00

According to my diary, I saw the movie "Girls Town" when I was twelve years old. I don't, however, have any recollection of the plot or of my reaction to it. It stars Paul Anka, my heartthrob at the time, which explains my interest. I decided I wanted my 63-year-old self to see it, too.

The movie was released in 1959 and only rates a 2.6 (out of 10) on imdb.com, so it's not easy to find. However, it was shown in 1994 on Mystery Science Theater 3000, and those episodes are available. I downloaded the MST3K version, laid in some nice wine, made a batch of spicy Indian puffed wheat (lots of cereal still left), and invited Chris for a viewing.

Mamie Van Doren stars in this schlockfest as the teenaged bad girl accused of pushing wealthy "Chip" off a cliff. For some reason, there's no official arrest, and no trial. She's sent to Catholic nun-run Girls Town ("not a reform school!"), where her bad attitude makes enemies of all but sweet roomie Serafina. Singer Paul Anka is the good guy who saves the day, while Mel Tormé plays the nasty motorcycle gang leader.

I know it's a B movie, but what were they thinking? Mamie Van Doren, the underage teen, was actually 28, and Mel was 34 with a receding hairline and a chin to match. His ill-fitting motorcycle jacket looks vinyl, and while sneering and pushing women around, he's drinking a glass of milk. The teenage inmates' kangaroo court is more fearsome than the law or even the nuns. The most ominous threat is "I'll bingle your bongle." Least believable of all: Mamie starts to cry, kneels down and prays after hearing Paul Anka sing "Ave Maria" to her.

Another thing that's odd: the number of unknowns in this film who are related to big stars. Jim Mitchum is Robert's son; Cathy Crosby is Bing's niece, and Harold Lloyd, Jr. and Charlie Chaplin, Jr., well, it's obvious. Was producer Albert Zugsmith handing out favors to all of his friends?

There's one bit of psychological realism in the film. Serafina, who starts out hysterically in love with Paul the teen idol, at the end joins the novitiate. Perfect example of sublimation.

The MST3K version of "Girls Town" (slightly cut) with its sardonic commentary lifts the rating to a 10. We laughed hysterically throughout. Zugsmith also made "Sex Kittens Go to College," "College Confidential," "The Beat Generation," "Confessions of an Opium Eater," and over two dozen more middling to awful movies. Tonight might have been opening night at the Emory House Home Theater of the Zugsmith Film Festival.

Diary March 11, 1960: What's Your Name, Chick?

2011-03-11T23:45:00.005-05:00

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"Dear Diary

Such fun tonight! Kathy & I went to the Phillips to see 'Girls' Town' with Paul Anka. We sat in the first row, and then a boy came along and said to me, "What's your name, Chick?"

Gilda's party tomorrow. I know it'll be fun. (I practiced with chopsticks ((on ice cream))).

Tina has decided to turn Catholic. Next Saturday I'll bring her with me."

The Phillips Theater was at the "X" in Springfield, about three-quarters of a mile away from my house. It became the Cinema X later on, showing art films and soft porn. As the Phillips, it was second-run and B movies for about 25 cents. Kathy and I mostly went there or to the Bing, the two theaters we could walk to. We always sat in the front row.

"Girls' Town" is a movie starring Mamie Van Doren as the bad girl sent to Catholic reform school, Mel Tormé (as a gang leader!), and other randomly-casted actors and singers of the late 50's. IMDB gives it a 2.6. You have to work hard to make a movie that bad. I wish I could get a hold of it and watch it again.

Zippy Color Gradation Back-lit Keyboard

2011-03-10T15:37:00.002-05:00

As a journalist, I get a lot of swag. Any time a publicist offers me a free product, I'm open to trying it, although I don't always end up an enthusiast. Right now I am reviewing the Zippy Color Gradation Back-lit Keyboard (BL-741), which I'm loving a lot. It's black, like my old keyboard, so it matches my monitor. It's got pads underneath to prevent it from slipping around. Retractable feet allow you to angle it up for comfort. The keys use scissor-switch technology, so they're quiet and responsive. The layout is similar to my old keyboard's, but not exactly the same; "delete" and "backspace" are taking some getting used to. The keyboard plugs into a USB port without any special installation needed.

What makes this keyboard special, however, is the backlight feature. It's got 512 colors and a variety of ways to display them. A combination of the backlight on/off switch on the upper left and various function keys kills the backlight, or allows you to cycle through all 512 colors and choose one, or stores a favorite color, or activates color scrolling so that the colors keep cycling, or activates a keystroke feature, for which colors change with each stroke.

Also on the upper left are shortcut keys which take you to your email, music and video players, home page, and search engine. At under $50 retail, I think it's a bargain.

I worried that the backlight would give me a massive headache. It doesn't. One thing I don't have near my PC is good lighting, so the lighted letter and numerals are actually practical. And it's beautiful. I can match the keyboard to the cobalt blue of my system unit's interior light, or choose a nice fuschia or deep purple (great late-night colors). It's been a couple of weeks and I still haven't tired of the keystroke feature, which I'm using right now. Every keystroke is a surprise!

Bread Pudding, Bailey's, and Books

2011-03-09T22:16:00.002-05:00

Tonight was the March meeting of the Downtown Book Ladies. We take turns hosting, and always are treated to a nice spread. This time, Sue Rice made a divine bread pudding with whiskey caramel sauce. I had met this luscious dessert once before, at our recent progressive dinner party. Because I was in polite company, I didn't eat the entire pan that night, but I easily could've. It was even better this time, because I had it with Bailey's Caramel Irish Cream. Talk about gilding the lily.

As for the books, we've given up our organized method of choosing a theme and then finding a season's worth of appropriate titles. We are all voracious readers, but have trouble somehow getting around to the book on the list. So this year we're just each reporting on whatever we've read to the rest of the group. We go home full of wine and food, reading recommendations, copies of books others are finished with, and of course a month's worth of gossip and travel news. Best book club ever!

Pop-Top Fashion

2011-03-08T20:27:00.002-05:00

I dashed into a cute little boutique in Hampden, Massachusetts recently and spotted this bag. It's made of pop-tops from soda cans, crocheted together. I got excited when I saw it because I have been saving pop-tops for years with the intention of making apparel out of them.

I wouldn't make a bag, however, because I think it would be too hard to clean. Purses take a lot of wear, get parked on the floor, and need to be durable. Every purse I've ever owned has had at least one run-in with melted, squished Junior Mints, and I'm not sure how I'd get that mess out of all those crevices. What I want to make instead is a vest.

I have a couple of problems, though. One, I don't drink soda, so accumulating the pop-tops is slow going. And two, I don't know how to crochet. But the project is on my bucket list anyway. If I live long enough, I may actually get around to doing it. Meanwhile, I feel a sisterly pride when I see someone else's similar handiwork, proudly displayed and carrying a healthy price tag.

Movie Food: Spicy Indian Puffed Rice

2011-03-07T20:32:00.001-05:00

Mondays have become movie nights at my house. Alma and I go to Chinese class from 3:15 till 6:15, she drives me home, I invite her in, and we make Chinese food for supper. Then we eat it while watching a Chinese movie with English subtitles. Occasionally we are able to pick out a word, which excites us.

Today we shook things up a bit by adding a snack which wasn't Chinese. I had some puffed rice laying around, left by my former housemate. I don't like cold cereal, so I decided to jazz it up. I fried some peanuts in the wok, added several cloves of crushed garlic, cumin, turmeric, garam masala, and chili powder, plus the rice, with enough oil so it wouldn't burn or stick. Better than popcorn!

What I Had for Lunch Today: Ravioli and Artichokes

2011-03-06T20:39:00.003-05:00

What do you do with leftover ravioli? Fry it! This spinach ravioli was good the first time, but even better left over. I trimmed and steamed some baby artichokes (which are not really "babies," by the way--just a miniature variety), and tossed them in extra-virgin olive oil as well. Oh, and some red peppers and onions. Then I steam-fried a couple of handfuls of fresh spinach, finished it with a cream sauce, and poured the whole thing over. Kosher salt, fresh-ground black pepper, and voilà: les restes des raviolis.

What I Had for Lunch Today: Fake Chicken and Pepita Salad

2011-03-05T23:53:00.003-05:00

Ever since I learned how to read, I have been reading with my meals if I can get away with it. I'm not so rude that I'll read at the table if other people are present (although eating and reading with other people who are also eating and reading would be the best of all possible worlds). Since the advent of the internet, I sometimes eat at my desk while reading something online, especially if it's chilly. (I've got a comfy setup: heater under the desk, dog sleeping on my feet, fuzzy blanket, etc.) But on a sunny day, nothing beats the kitchen table, a plate of food, a cup of tea, and a book.

At the moment I'm working through a review copy of Abbe Diaz's PX This, a hilarious insider's view of the tony Manhattan restaurant and fashion industry. While I read about celebrity chef Jean-Georges Vongerichten's tuna spring rolls and his tantruming staff, I'm eating a salad of romaine dressed with extra-virgin olive oil, fresh lemon juice, sea salt and freshly ground black pepper. To this I added grape tomatoes, sautéed strips of fake chicken, and pepitas. It's healthful, delicious and cheap, plus I don't have to sit by the toilets or be snubbed by a bitchy maitre d'.

Why Do Grapefruits Have 13 Sections?

2011-03-05T23:04:00.005-05:00

Ever since I can remember, I have been counting the segments of grapefruits whenever I section them. The count is virtually always thirteen. It seems I'm the only one I know who's ever bothered to observe this, let alone explain why it is.

We tend to think of organisms in nature as symmetrical, and many are. Cells multiply by dividing in two, then dividing and dividing again. But there are other mathematical sequences which are common in nature. The Fibonacci sequence is one.

The sequence is created by adding each number to the number before it to create the next number. 0 + 1 = 1, 1 + 1 = 2, 1 + 2 = 3, 2 + 3 = 5, 3 + 5 = 8, 5 + 8 = 13, 8 + 13 = 21, 13 + 21 = 34, and so on. So the sequence goes 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144....

If you start studying arrangements of petals, seed heads, leaves, etc., you will see the Fibonacci numbers popping up again and again. Buttercups have 5 petals; delphiniums, 8, cineraria, 13, black-eyed Susans, 21, plantain, 34, Michaelmas daisies, 55 or 89. (Some are not exact for every flower, but always average out to the Fibonacci number.) Apples have 5 carpels, or seed compartments.

Many plants exhibit spiral formations in the arrangement of their petals, leaves and seeds. Think of pineapples and pinecones, cauliflower and cacti. The numbers of spirals in each direction are usually Fibonacci numbers. Looking at a plant from above, you can see that these arrangements allow seeds to be packed optimally into seedheads, leaves to overlap so that lower ones get the maximum amount of light, and so forth.

The Fibonacci sequence is closely related to phi (the golden mean or golden ratio; 1 plus the square root of 5 divided by 2). Both were objects of study of Leonardo of Pisa, a.k.a. Fibonacci, generally considered the greatest European mathematician of the Middle Ages. Studying phi and the Fibonacci sequence takes you from Nautilus shells and pentagrams to Euclid, Kepler, Bartok, Debussy and Turing. To fibonomials, Lucas numbers, the Golden string....I'm going to stop now. But Dr. Ron Knotts at the University of Surrey has some very interesting pages on the subject here: http://www.maths.surrey.ac.uk/hosted-sites/R.Knott/Fibonacci/fib.html If you're like me, you'll find yourself doing the puzzles, following the links, and listening to Fibonacci-sequence-inspired musical compositions on youtube. It's a mind-suck, in a good way.

Culture and Cocktails: Mardi Gras

2011-03-04T21:59:00.003-05:00

I've been attending the "Culture and Cocktails" events monthly at the Springfield Museums. October was Oktoberfest at the Wood Museum of Springfield History, November was Sushi and Sake at the George Walter Vincent Smith, January was a Science Carnival at the Science Museum, and February was Wine and Chocolate at the Museum of Fine Arts.

So we've come full circle, and yesterday's event was at the Wood Museum again. Springfield's newest museum has got a great foyer, designed beautifully by our own Steven Jablonski for just this sort of event. You can eat, drink, view the displays, bump into lots of friends, and then walk around and see the entire museum--all for $5.

In October, local brewers had stations all around for dispensing information and samples--lots of samples. The Student Prince and Fort Restaurant dished out red cabbage and sausages at one end of the room. Mountains of Liptauer cheese spread, crackers, and assorted other cheeses were available as palate-cleansers between beers. In the back room, homebrewers were hosting a competition. When you got tired of the microbrews, you could wander over, sample the homebrews, and vote for your favorite. You could learn about Highland Brewing Company (Dr. Suess's family's business, which once stood on State Street where MassMutual is now). Or you could visit Storrowton's booth, where costumed reenactors were explaining how hard cider was made back in the day (and offering samples). I don't even like beer, and I wobbled home. Imagine if I'd been trying harder!

This month, the theme was Mardi Gras. The bar was cash, but there was loads of Cajun food, loads of beads, and music by The Primate Fiasco, a band whose music eludes labels but is sometimes called "psychedelic Dixieland." I had heard them outdoors next to a fire-breathing dragon a couple of years ago at one of Richard Richardson's over-the-top parties. Different vibe, both great times.

What I Had for Lunch Today: Kukuye Khorma

2011-03-03T15:32:00.005-05:00

A Persian kuku is basically an omelet. Khorma are dates. One thing about Persian food is, it's always gorgeous; the presentation is so over-the-top that when a Persian cook brings a dish to a potluck, nobody touches it. It's too beautiful to cut into. So please don't judge by this photo. The dates are supposed to be left whole and arranged symmetrically in the pan after sautéeing them just enough to soften; the eggs are carefully poured over. Then the whole business is painstakingly garnished. My version is more like scrambled eggs with blackened date pieces (with all that sugar, they burn easily, and the phone rang). But hey, I only make this dish when I'm in a hurry, never for company.

I ate my kuku with green beans tossed in my iron spider in butter and chili powder just till the chili is fragrant. Not an authentic Persian side dish! But I had all the flavors: sweet, salty, hot, and it was delicious.

What I Had for Lunch Today: Capellini with Vodka Sauce, Asparagus and Pistachio Nuts

2011-03-02T00:54:00.001-05:00

When I have a little bit of marinara sauce left over, I usually doctor it up. This time I turned it into vodka sauce by simmering it with some butter, heavy cream, and vodka. Hey, I'm half Polish. Those are the three ingredients a Polack would want if she were stranded on a desert island.

I poured the vodka sauce over cooked capellini and added braised asparagus and some pistachio nuts. Capellini à ma façon!

Diary March 1, 1960: I Touch a Five Hundred Dollar Tea Pot!

2011-03-01T23:53:00.007-05:00

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"Dear Diary,

Today I went downtown with Gilda. I bought a puzzle, some nuts, a charm engraved C.C. & P.A.. Also a shamrock for myself, and one for Gilda. And Leslie's surprize (I have hidden it).

I showed the wallet to Tina, and she liked it, and said Gilda would. (She has a 102 fever.

Well well, an improvement. Bed at 10:15 today. Maybe by schooltime again (next well) I'll be back to normal.

Gil & I went to Hall Galleries & saw the Crystal Room. You know, the beautiful blue one. And met some nice salesladies. And touched a $65.00 punch bowl and a tea pot which sells for $525.00 (five hundred), with our right hand."

Hall Galleries was the home goods section of Steiger's department store. It had furniture, china, chandeliers, an art gallery, a bridal registry, and so forth. Silver was showcased in the "Mahogany Room." The "Crystal Room" was a brilliantly-lit mirrored alcove full of pricey crystal. I was awed by it then and, despite my world travels, would probably be awed by it even today, if it still existed. The whole gorgeous art deco structure was knocked down in the late 90s and some bushes planted in its place. Thank you, wise city fathers, for demolishing it.

My Greenhouse

2011-02-28T22:03:00.003-05:00

This is my kitchen thermostat, hiked up to a whopping 62 degrees, which is as high as I put it during the day in the winter (at night, it goes down to 52). The front part of the house stays at 52 degrees all the time unless I'm entertaining. The loft and the third floor have their own zones, but I never turn on the heat....they just get whatever rises from down below. My heating bills are pretty reasonable as a result, considering how big my house is and how cold it gets in New England.

We residents of the Emory House follow the British precept of warming ourselves, not the whole house. That means lots of clothes, lots of comforters on the bed (with a dog under the covers like a living, breathing hot water bottle), and space heaters strategically placed under desks. Every year we get a little tougher.

One nice feature of this house is the monstrous stained glass window (fourteen feet square) on the south-facing wall of the kitchen. On a sunny day, it functions like a greenhouse. Today, although it's freezing outside and the heaters are cold, the temperature reads 80. A lot of that heat rises up to my loft where I write.

The Emory House was moved in the 1970s from a nearby street. It used to face north, with a two-story porch facing east. The last owner had the fortuitous idea of enclosing the porch and adding skylights, fans, and this fabulous salvaged Victorian-era window. Now the house faces east (good feng shui) and the sun pours in the kitchen window all day long.

Diary February 27 1960: Movie at the Bing Theater

2011-02-27T00:47:00.004-05:00

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"Dear Diary

Journey to the Center of the Earth at the Bing. So beautiful! We (Gilda & I) saw it twice, the second part about as far as when Alex loses his trousers & needs a lamb to help him. And the monsters! How gruesome! The caverns were beautiful, though. We asked for tickets, and she replied, "Adult or Children?" Gilda says "Adult," so she gives her 15 cents change when there shouldn't be any! Then she says, "Wrong change," and our hopes sink. So she gives us 15 cents more! Well, I don't know......

Made another picture of Tzaqana. I like it. Good plans for this week. + Mom got a beautiful rug + mat at a mill."

What was Tzaqana?? Lost to history.

Diary February 26 1960: Sweet Dreams of Olympic Skaters

2011-02-26T17:25:00.004-05:00

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"Dear Diary--

Not much today, either. "Applied more Saccharin." Same reaction. I cleaned in cooking today.

No Science test as expected (and that cat is still there, too.

I think OPPERATION PETTICOAT ends tonight, but there's always roller skating, or Journey to the Center of the Earth (or staying home).

Saw the Olympics. David Jenkins won in the free skating, consequently tonight's dream, good-bye."

I'm pretty sure the cat I refer to is the dead one in science class, meant for dissection. It seems to me that that was an eighth-grade project, but I would've seen the dead animal in the classroom. Who says the world is going to hell in an handbasket? At least today we have computer simulations to do the same thing, while inflicting less horror...on both the students and the cats.

Diary February 25 1960: I Become a Substance Abuser

2011-02-25T18:07:00.003-05:00

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Deart Diary--

Nothing much today. I had some Saccharin (artificial sugar) and gave a concentrated tablet to both Tina and David T. You should have seen their faces! Then I went to Gilda's with Kathy. We pinned a KISS ME QUICK sign on her back, and watched all the queer looks as she walked unknowing (and quite coquettishly) down the street and into the Drug Store! Then she got some Saccharin for me, and I was so grateful I took the sign off. A+ in my Math test, not much homework for the Vacation. Kathy made up a poem (about Fabian) which is surprisingly good, the words balance out, etc. I'm working on one about Paul. (I found my Social), Kathy doesn't want to go to college. She's getting ideas about Cousin Bob (I've never even seen him).

Diary February 24 1960: Kathy Enters a Fabian Contest As a Beatnik

2011-02-24T13:24:00.001-05:00

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"Dear Diary--

I have decided to see "Operation Petticoat" Saturday, with Gilda. I just found out that John and David aren't coming during the vacation....I made toast & scrambled eggs in cooking--quite good, especially with syrup--in cut glass pitchers, yet!...Imagine, Miss Pride has won a second prize gold medal for volleyball in the Olympics!!!

Test in gym today, I got a B or a C, I can't find my Social, I don't know if it will turn up or not, but we'll see. Kathy's joining a Fabian contest, by the way, can't you just see her as a beatnik, long dark hair, dark glasses, black tights, black flats, long yellow & black shirt!!!"

Miss Pride was our gym teacher. I have no recollection of her having been an Olympic medalist. Shame on me for hating and fearing gym so much when obviously I had a very competent instructor. It amazes me, looking back, how excellent and dedicated all of my teachers were. Many had Master's degrees or Ph.Ds (worth much more in the 60s than now). Too bad I was more interested in Operation Petticoat, Fabian, and what kind of pitcher the syrup was being served in.

Diary February 23, 1960: No Castle!

2011-02-23T12:41:00.002-05:00

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"No castle!

Dear Diary--

Today I heard the Westover Air Force Band play. Best of all I liked"Night Beat," emphasizing sound effects. Boy, was that weird! The clarinet player stands up and shouts "read all about it," and this man is walking along the waterfront. Then there's a crash, a bit of mumble-jumble, and a moan, hideously interpreted by a brasswind, (or woodwind)

And the percussion choir! 4 of them. The cymbal player was so cute, and the snare drummer too. Good, good, good!

I saw Gil today."

Diary February 22, 1960: Holiday Cake, She Calls It

2011-02-22T17:04:00.006-05:00

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"Dear Diary--

No school today!

I went to Gilda's today, with Leslie. Loads of fun. But we couldn't find Sheila or Tina for Leslie to play with, so she played with us. And seemed quite content.

Mother made a holiday cake (she calls it) with cherries on top and pale pink frosting. The cake itself has a delicate peppermint taste, and chopped cherries all through it. De---licious!

Oh, and I forgot to tell you about the castle Gilda and I have dreamed up. Pink marble, with a blue marble roof and green marble minarets, adorned with green gems, and two white marble horses on top of the palace.

(More tomorrow)"

A pink cake with cherries on it and in it baked on February 22 sounds like a George Washington's Birthday Day cake. I think the reason Mom called it a "holiday cake" was to imply that it was--but, in fact, my father's birthday and George Washington's were one day apart. While George was dead and couldn't complain, my father hated any mention of his birthday, so my mother probably wasn't allowed to celebrate it, officially anyway. (He was 13 years older than she was, and she was no teenager when she had me; he was almost 50 when he became a dad for the first time.) As a teenager, I once insisted on baking my father a birthday cake, despite my mother's warnings. When I presented it to him, he just grabbed his coat, brushed past me to the garage, got in his car and drove away.

Diary February 21, 1960: An Enchanted Fairyland!

2011-02-21T16:36:00.005-05:00

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"Dear Diary--

To think that I traveled well over a hundred miles today! We went all over! Finally we stopped at Brigham's Candy. What an enchanted fairyland! After that we stopped to get some cheese. No, that was after we went to the top of the mountain. And what a mountain. I thought my ears would pop! Then, to top it all off, we got out (Marcia, Leslie, Uncle Eddie and I) and looked down with the binoculars! I stepped into the snow and sunk twice! Coming back to the car, I felt as if I were defying all the laws of gravity, and walking half-way-side-ways, or inside-bottom-out-and upside-down. Whew!"

This mountain would have been Mt. Holyoke, at the top of which was--still is--Skinner Park with its Summit House. Abraham Lincoln vacationed there, among many others. Thomas Cole painted the view from where I was "looking down!" (It now hangs in the Metropolitan Museum of Art). The binoculars were Nazi binoculars, taken by an American soldier off the body of a dead German and bought by my uncle; he had a collection of WWII guns and so forth, some American and some SS. They really were great binoculars.

Diary February 20, 1960: I Feel Greatly Enlightened Somehow

2011-02-20T00:31:00.003-05:00

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Dear Diary--

Skating today. I learned how to stoop down, and its loads of fun, but I'm not steady enough to stick my leg out yet. Kathy came, & didn't like the skating, (she couldn't even stand up, practically), but I think Gilda & I drilled something into her. (No skating skirt yet, but soon.)

No test marks from Catechism yet--I wonder how I did?

I feel greatly enlightened, somehow, in everything, as if God would ~~help~~ straighten things out, Kathy, school, home, homework, etc, etc

Diary February 19, 1960: Lucky Piece!

2011-02-19T00:21:00.001-05:00

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Dear Diary

Cinnamon and toast and cocoa in cooking today, my tongue is still hurting from the scalded (or boiled?) milk.

Skating tomorrow, in slacks. Mom has not yet made my skating skirt.

Magnetism in science.

Lucky piece.

(7 ~~articles written such as to be recorded by tomorrow~~)

New Venue in Town: Artist Square Group Gallery

2011-02-18T12:37:00.003-05:00

Although the gallery has been open for a few weeks, today was the official "Meet and Greet," a.k.a. official grand opening, for the Artist Square Group Gallery in Tower Square, downtown Springfield. My friend Alma had some items on display, and Tracy Woods had asked to borrow my punchbowl for the event, so of course I had to drop by.

In this photo (taken by me) I recognize artists A. J. Juarez, Awilda Oxios, Paul Midura, Morocco Flowers, and Jerry Barry, plus director Tracy Woods front and center. Not sure about the two ladies on the far right, or the lady seated next to Tracy. I chatted with a number of people: the artists I've named, some of the artists not pictured, plus several friends. I didn't get to meet everyone.

Jerry Barry's work is my favorite. He has painted a "park" series: landscapes of Central Park plus a couple of other parks. Two were hanging in the gallery. I recognized both spots immediately. The framed pieces I saw were prints; the originals hang in his home. I asked him why he painted, and got a disquisition (he's a teacher). One of the things he said was that when you're tired at the end of the day and want to relax, it's nice to contemplate a beautiful painting. He likes parks, and wanted to bring the park into his home. Literally! The originals are huge: 4 feet by 6 feet or 4 feet by 8 feet, and cover the walls of his home like murals. It must look like Monet's water lilies in the Orangerie.

I like the gallery, but the place I'd really like to go is Jerry Barry's house.

Diary February 17, 1960: Another Poem Is Forming!

2011-02-17T00:59:00.003-05:00

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Dear Diary--

Ah, and another poem is forming! Perhaps if it is a successful one, I will stick it in here for further notice.

In cooking, Bette cut her finger. Perhaps stitches!

I have decided to further decide my career as some form of dietician. I know nothing about it, but I could learn, and, if interesting, could start.

I tried making a ROSY APPLE COMPOTE, which was so good in cooking, but the apples were too soft, and it ended up like applesauce.

And my homework not all done, either!

New Vitrine

2011-02-16T18:18:00.005-05:00

A few weeks ago, I was at the auction all by myself--a first. I had been salivating over this particular sale for about three weeks; some of the items were on preview and they were particularly fine. One thing I knew I wanted to bid on was a pair of barrister bookcases. Those are the stackable units with the glass doors that flip up. Perfect for my library; I don't know if it's the age of the house, proximity to the train tracks, the highway, or what, but I've got particularly grimy dust in this place like I've had in no other. I love the idea of putting my books (and everything else) behind doors, preferably glass ones so they can be seen without getting too dirty.

Nobody wanted to go to this particular auction, though. At the last minute I decided I didn't need permission or company, and took off alone. The sale was everything I had hoped for, and more. One consigner had stuff from her grandmother's Fifth-Avenue apartment, like the bronze cheval mirror I was coveting (but couldn't lift even the corner of). The mirror went for too much, though, as did the bookcases. I contented myself with a flow blue bowl....I've loved flow blue since I can remember, but never owned any. This auction had a whole tableful of gorgeous flow blue china: to-die-for tureens, with covers intact, platters, sets of plates, and so forth, but this single soup bowl was the only item that didn't go over my budget. Between satisfying my curiosity over the pricey items and acquiring the blue bowl, I was a happy girl.

And then the vitrine came up on the block. A huge, ornate, gilded what-not with shelves and doors and beveled mirrors and cabriole legs and little carved cornices everywhere. I had seen it before the auction started, but not paid any attention to it. Then the auctioneer said, "Isn't this gorgeous? It's the kind of piece you would find in one of those Newport mansions!" A wave of auction fever swept over me and I started to bid. At a point, I said $325 and nobody said $350. It was mine.

For those who have never had auction fever, let me explain. There's a zoned-out have-to-have frenzied period where you bid and bid, frequently followed by a "what the hell have I just done?" moment right after the auctioneeer asks to see your paddle so he can write down your number and hold you to your bid. That's the moment I had. How was I going to get this thing home? What did I have to put in it? And how would it look with my sedate Sheraton and Hepplewhite pieces?

The first question was answered pretty quickly. Two of my neighbors were there and had just bought pieces so monstrous that they were contracting the auction house to deliver them. The bulked-up delivery dudes didn't want any extra money to go around the corner with my relatively dinky case. Serendipity! Two days later, the delivery dudes had a nice tip, the neighbors had a token of my appreciation, and the vitrine was installed in my front parlor.

I think it looks great. It's in very good condition, and it's real gilt, not just gold paint. I have no end of tchotchkes to stick in it, so no problem there. The loveseats, Pembroke tables, and even the mahogany breakfronts have been very accomodating. Similar items online are being offered for many thousands of dollars. I think I got a deal!

Diary February 15, 1960: I Send Away for a Lucky Totem

2011-02-15T13:07:00.003-05:00

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"Dear Diary--

Looking through a magazine that Uncle Eddie left here by mistake, I had found an advertisement for a "lucky totem" which I am sending for. $1.00. Worth it? Who knows? But, we shall see.

Club coming along nicely. Kath. may come to Rialto Sat.

Many other plans"

Diary February 14, 1960: I'm Sending Away for a Venus Fly-Trap!

2011-02-14T19:16:00.002-05:00

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"Dear Diary

Valentine's Day, and what fun! I got 15 ounces of candy from Mom. Uncle Eddie came, I'm now sending away for a Venus Fly-Trap!

What Next?"

Diary February 13, 1960: I Go to the Rialto Roller Rink

2011-02-13T18:59:00.004-05:00

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"Dear Diary

Today I went to the RIALTO, roller skating. You should have seen me pout when Mom told me I couldn't borrow Gil's skirt. But what a thrill! It's wonderful! I've decided to go next week, too. By then I'll have a skating skirt of my own.

Another exam in catechism. I didn't finish the last question.

Gilda is now minus one glove--thanks to the red fox + his mate at the park, who snitched it.

And I didn't do any homework yet."

The Perfect Caffè Latte

2011-02-12T12:22:00.009-05:00

I celebrate most mornings with coffee--in a glass because the preparation is very beautiful. I don't call it a "latte" for short because--as has been pointed out to me by persons in the know--that will get you a cup of plain milk in Italy. I don't call it a "cappuccino" because I add the coffee to the milk and not vice versa, and I don't want the purists coming down on me for that, either.

I warm the milk and foam it up using a little battery-operated wand bought at Ikea for $1.99. I make the coffee in a one-cup Bialetti moka pot which I've had for years. (Moka is like espresso except made with less steam and pressure.) I use Café Bustelo ($2.50 for a brick at the bodega around the corner). If money were no object, I'd use Illy.

I pour the coffee into the milk....the slower you pour it, the less it mixes. I sprinkle cinnamon and sugar plus a bit of raw sugar on top. If you're careful, you can mix it up--after admiring the design--without spoiling the nice sugar crust.

Things Found on the Street Recently

2011-02-11T22:53:00.004-05:00

I live downtown and I walk a lot. What I mostly see on the street is litter--things thrown down intentionally. Like empty Newport packs, Vienna sausage cans, ripped-up lottery tickets, and cigarette butts. Once in a while, though, I spot a tiny toy, a piece of broken jewelry, or some change. I like to bring these found objects home. Recently I have collected 52 cents, two marbles, a plastic lizard, an aurora borealis crystal dragonfly on a chain, two studs (one jewelled, and one sterling silver and engraved "Please return to Tiffany & Co., New York--probably a knockoff). Also one big red paper clip.

Is there anybody who doesn't know what you can do with one red paper clip??? Kyle McDonald uptraded his several times and ended up with a house! And wrote a book, got on TV, met a bunch of movie stars, and so on and on. (Here's his blog on the subject: http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/.) Kyle set his goal of a house before he began. First he got a fish pen, then he used it to get a doorknob, then a Coleman stove, a generator, an "instant party," a snowmobile, a van, a recording contract, a year in Phoenix, an afternoon with Alice Cooper, a KISS snowglobe, a movie role, and finally: a house.

And he only had one red paper clip. Look at all the stuff I've got!

Diary February 10, 1960: I Want To Be a Dribbling Dynamo

2011-02-10T22:44:00.003-05:00

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Dear Diary

I am thinking of joining the basketball team, but who knows what will come of it? (I want to be a Dribbling Dynamo)

Kathy, Gilda, & I have decided to start a club. It's called the Zero Club, because we've decided we don't want a name, or else not much of one.

I went with Kathy to Gilda's house this afternoon. It was lots of fun.

Cooking was fun, too. We set the table, sectioned oranges, and ate them. We learned the proper way to measure them. The girls liked my apron.

Diary February 9, 1960: The Zero Club

2011-02-09T01:16:00.003-05:00

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The Zero Club

Meetings--Tuesday

Dues--10 cents a week, or more.

Club Identification--Two-tiered rings, with Kathy + Fabian, Cicily + Paul, Gilda + Bobby (Darin) written on them. $1.25 is the cost. They are gold.

For more, this page, Feb. 8, Jan. 30 to Feb. 2, Jan. 28, 27, 26. (Then continue from there)

[I have NO recollection of this!]

Charmaine School of Dance

2011-02-08T00:19:00.004-05:00

In the sixth grade, with my best friend Kathy Kos, I took dancing lessons at Charmaine School of Dance. Here's a Google shot of the block; the dancing school was upstairs, right in the front. That's the corner of White Street and Sumner Avenue in Springfield, Massachusetts. I'm talking 1959.

Charmaine was a blonde with big hair. She taught us four dances: the waltz, the fox trot, the cha cha, and the lindy hop. The waltz was easy, the fox trot I totally didn't get, the lindy hop terrified me. I did like the cha cha. One, two, onetwothree. One, two, onetwothree. One, two, onetwothree. Pretty easy.

First we were separated into two groups--boys and girls--and we practiced the basic steps. The cha cha was just a line, back and forth, back and forth. Then we had to partner up and dance around in a circle, mix it up. I hated that part. I didn't know anyone except Kathy, nobody talked to me, and everyone had sweaty palms and smelled like fear.

My first record was "Diana" by Paul Anka: a cha cha. I bought it the following year, in 1960. I carried it around with me and played it endlessly. When I played it, I did the cha cha by myself, as though following footprints on the floor. I can see myself now, in the finished basement at my Aunt Jean and Uncle Mickey's, playing that song and doing the cha cha. Back and forth and back and forth on a beautiful fur rug my uncle had brought back from one of his overseas trips. Wasn't I cool!

That was the room where my cousin Michael was to die, 45 years later, alone, while watching TV. I'm sure there's plenty more history in that room. But for me, it was only Paul Anka and the cha cha cha.

Diary February 7, 1960: Good, Good, Day

2011-02-07T22:15:00.003-05:00

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Dear Diary

Uncle Eddie's today, and lots of fun. We went to Bobu's first, though, and stuffed ourselfs with potato chips & soda.

I'm positive I like Paul Anka now. The more I listen to his records, see his picture, etc, etc, etc., the more I am convinced. But bye for now, I must dream awhile before I fall asleep. (about Guess What?)

Good, Good, Day

Diary February 6, 1960: Fabian's Birthday!

2011-02-06T00:23:00.003-05:00

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Dear Diary

Today I went downtown with Gilda & Leslie. I bought candy for Mom & Dad, picked up my chain, bought thread, nuts, soda, etc., etc.

Fabian's Birthday. I went to Kathy's house from 6:00 to 8:00, we talked, laughed, danced, played records, read magazines, drank ginger-ale, and ate Kathy's cake.

Fun, Fun, Fun!

My exam (homework) from catechism was judged one of the best.

Diary February 5, 1960: The Stupid Blouse Is Finally Finished

2011-02-05T00:13:00.003-05:00

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"Dear Diary

No homework! Only math, and I did that third period.

Blouse finished 5th period. I'm glad. I'll get a C, but Mom says she won't sign my card until she sees it on paper.

Gilda may not be able to go downtown Sat. But we shall see.

Mrs. Weissman, math sub. Mrs. Peterson, science sub. Science test 50 ques. tough

Gilda came, we had fun, sort of."

Diary February 4, 1960: My Intellectual Snobbery Is Already Surfacing

2011-02-04T17:42:00.002-05:00

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Diary February 3, 1960: I Break Up With Kathy

2011-02-03T17:39:00.002-05:00

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Roof Worries

2011-02-02T14:36:00.004-05:00

The groundhog did not see his shadow, so supposedly we will have an early spring. Hah! Even if we do, it will take till April to melt these ridiculous piles of snow. And now we're worried about the roof, so we're shoveling its contents into the yard. Our concern is not frivolous; garages, barns, and whole houses are collapsing all over the state from the weight of all this snow and ice, coupled with temperatures so low that nothing is melting. Well, only enough melting to create ice dams in the gutters and murderous frozen swords of Damocles over walks and driveways.

That's Ali clearing the back wing and Amir up on the front porch. At the rates local roofers are quoting, I figure they did over $1000 worth of work up there. No way I'm letting them up to the tip-top of the house (although they've done it multiple times when the roof tiles were not a sheet of ice).

Robert Frost was my father's favorite poet. I've been thinking a lot about this particular poem lately:

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if I had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

Weather Girl Kitty

2011-02-01T16:49:00.002-05:00

I'm so excited! Today my poster of the Taiwan Weather Girls, autographed by Kitty, came in the mail. This poster is the first thing I've won since I was a little girl and won a stuffed elephant in a contest from a children's magazine. They delivered my prize to a toy store at the "X," about a mile from me, and I walked there to pick it up. The elephant was gaily decorated with a headdress and tasseled blanket. He seemed so huge; I held him clasped in front of me all the way home.

Which reminds me. Where is my elephant, Mom?

But anyway. The Weather Girls are from Taiwan; there's a different girl for each day of the week. One or two autographed posters are given away each week to facebook fans commenting on which Weather Girl is their favorite. Kitty is the Sunday Weather Girl.

The Weather Girls may be found on NMATV (Next Media Animation TV), which is the largest full-service 3D animation studio in Asia. Their animated newsreels are funny and informative. The Weather Girls are an added bonus. Just don't go to them for the actual weather! It's right there on the green screen, but with the Weather Girl-of-the-day hopping and dancing around, impossible to focus on it.

Close Your Eyes and Look As Far As You Can See

2011-01-30T23:38:00.000-05:00

A visit to Real Art Ways packs a double whammy. It's a cinema (with reasonably-priced indie movies you frequently won't find anywhere else besides NYC and SF) and an art gallery. Once you've paid for your movie ticket, the gallery is free. And they have wine!

I saw several exhibits there this weekend. In the main gallery, Olu Oguibe has built a beautiful, traditional New England stone wall. Does putting it inside an artspace, as opposed to a field, make it art? Well, it begins a dialog at least. Oguibe fantasizes about people heatedly discusses this question while viewing his piece.

In the Real Room is an exhibit by Ryan V. Brennan called "Close Your Eyes and Look As Far As You Can See." It consists of four pieces of "cinemallage"--elaborate, colorful sets which look like pop-up books. Each piece has a tiny screen on which plays part of a stop-motion animation fantasy. The animations were filmed using the sets. Cinema + collage = cinemallage. Get it? It's accessible and cool.

Diary January 29, 1960: I Turn Over a New Leaf

2011-01-29T01:12:00.002-05:00

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Beijing Taxi

2011-01-28T22:21:00.002-05:00

With one Chinese lesson under our belts, Alma and I, along with my screenwriting buddy W. T. Brooks, headed down to Hartford to see Beijing Taxi at Real Art Ways. Are we optimistic or what? We caught "hao," "xia jian," "ba," and a few other words, but overall I'd have to say: thank God for subtitles.

The real draw was meeting the director, Miao Wang, for a discussion after the film. (There she is with Bill; the other photo is a still from the film.) Miao is Chinese-born, but immigrated to the U.S. after Tianamen Square. Struck by the changes each time she returned to Beijing, she decided to make a film that would capture the spirit of her rapidly-evolving city. The months leading up to the Beijing Olympics seemed the perfect time; the gregarious taxi drivers the perfect guides. After riding in many taxis and lurking in many driver-frequented noodle shops, she narrowed her protagonists to three: Bai Jiwen, Zhou Yi, and Wei Caixia.

Miao became quite attached to her stars, particularly to Wei Caixia, a young married woman with one daughter. There was an endearing sweetness to all three drivers, but particularly Wei, who has an unfocused yearning for "freedom." She doesn't really want to drive a cab, she doesn't really want to run a shop, she doesn't really want--as her husband continually suggests--to work full-time. She would like to give her daughter things she didn't have as a child: real art lessons, for example. She dreams of her daughter becoming an artist. If she hadn't been driving through the streets of Beijing, speaking Mandarin, I would have pegged her for an American.

Ridiculous Amounts of Snow

2011-01-27T23:39:00.001-05:00

Every winter I find myself comparing the piddly current snowfalls with the epic snows of my childhood. I reminisce about struggling into woolen leggings with zippers, wading knee-deep through the unshoveled sidewalks of elderly neighbors to get to school, digging tunnels and igloos into the mountainous drifts on either side of the driveway. Once it started to snow in December, you could never really see the ground again until March. The drifts kept getting higher and higher, the streets narrower and narrower. I have a photo of myself one Easter, shivering on the front sidewalk in pastel spring suit and patent-leather shoes, dwarfed by towering mounds of snow to the right and to the left.

Well, this is that snow. There's my house from the back, glimpsed beyond the park, and there's my poor car huddled in the driveway, trapped behind a snowbank that won't melt till June. Où sont les neiges d'antan? They're right here, and I can't wait till I have again consigned them to memory.

Back to School: Chinese

2011-01-26T21:06:00.004-05:00

My 12-year-old self didn't bother to write in her diary on January 26, but my current self is trying to be more consistent with her 21st-century equivalent, her blog. It's odd that over 50 years have passed and not much has changed in my life. OK, maybe not so odd. Still keeping a diary, still wondering if anyone wants to be friends with me. And still in school, staying up too late working on my homework!

This year, it's Chinese, plus another web authoring course. Chinese is awesome! We students might as well be in kindergarten....we are learning to say hello, introducing ourselves to each other, bowing, and chattering away about any experiences even peripherally related to the class. Like when the six-year-old raises his hand in the middle of language arts and announces, "I went to Holyoke Mall with my dad and I got a new shirt!" And our brilliant and beautiful teacher replies, "Oh, how wonderful!" and goes right back to the lesson, instead of scolding us. This is Chinese the way I would teach it, if I knew any Chinese.

Diary January 25, 1960: I Buy a Wooly Willie

2011-01-25T20:49:00.002-05:00

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Diary January 24, 1960: Baby Edward Breaks My Loom

2011-01-24T23:44:00.002-05:00

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Diary January 23, 1960: We Have a Quiz in Catechism

2011-01-23T01:57:00.000-05:00

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Diary January 22, 1960: I Manage to Live without My Pocketbook

2011-01-22T01:49:00.002-05:00

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"Becky" was Becky Pache, my penpal. She was from Pennsylvania. I loved a story about horses she had written in a children's magazine, and her bio blurb stated that she wanted penpals, so I began an enthusiastic correspondence with her, mostly about horses. (I was horse-crazy at the time.) After a few lackluster exchanges, she admitted that she was actually a dog person, not a horse person. I felt humiliated. Still do. We stopped writing after that.

Diary January 21, 1960: I Make a Decision

2011-01-21T22:53:00.004-05:00

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I remember this trip...the hairdresser's name was Ann Bania. She was the wife of one of my mother's Polish cousins. She gave me what was known as the "bubble cut"--short and curly all around. I had such a moon face as a child and teenager that I appeared chubby, from the neck up at least. The bubble cut wonderfully accentuated that roundness! A few years later, in Paris, to my great despair, even Carita, my swanky salon, would give me basically that same cut, and as a final indignity spritz me with a girlish lily-of-the-vally scent. Inside I was Audrey Hepburn, not Sandra Dee! How come nobody else could see it?

Diary January 20, 1960: I Realize My Diary Can't Talk Back

2011-01-20T22:51:00.001-05:00

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Diary January 19, 1960: We Have a Colored Substitute

2011-01-19T00:24:00.000-05:00

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Diary January 18, 1960: Mr. McDuffie Threatens to Take His Phosphorus out of the Water

2011-01-18T00:18:00.001-05:00

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Diary January 17, 1960: I Go Skating Without Skates

2011-01-17T00:16:00.001-05:00

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Diary January 16, 1960: Father Shea Proclaims One Row a "Goon Row"

2011-01-16T00:14:00.001-05:00

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Diary January 15, 1960: I Start a Laugh Book

2011-01-15T00:13:00.001-05:00

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Diary January 14, 1960: I Am All Mixed Up As To Voting

2011-01-14T00:00:00.002-05:00

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Diary January 13, 1960: When Substitutes Were "A Ball"

2011-01-13T01:18:00.003-05:00

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Diary January 12, 1960: Off to Bed

2011-01-12T01:13:00.000-05:00

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Diary January 11, 1960: I Get Sick

2011-01-11T00:57:00.000-05:00

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Diary January 10, 1960: I Do Not think I Will Get Sick

2011-01-10T00:46:00.000-05:00

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Diary January 9, 1960: I Write a Poem About Drinking!?!

2011-01-09T10:02:00.001-05:00

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Diary January 8, 1960: I Do Look Like a Freak

2011-01-08T09:59:00.000-05:00

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Diary January 7, 1960: Again No Madame Curie

2011-01-07T21:40:00.001-05:00

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