I totally enjoyed Mary's story today about her appearance on the Ranger Hal show back in the day, so I thought I'd share this one with you.
When I was a little one, my family lived in the Bronx, in New York City, and somebody knew somebody who knew somebody who got tickets for my sister and two other kids to sit in the Peanut Gallery on the Howdy Doody Show. I'm guessing this was around 1956 or so, so she would have been 7 or 8 years old. If you go that far back in time, then you know that sitting in the Peanut Gallery would be something like being on stage with the Wiggles would be today, only magnified about a million times. Howdy Doody was THE MAN.
If you didn't know, Howdy himself was a marionette, operated by off-screen hands; his main thing was chatting with his human sidekick, Buffalo Bob. Anyway, as a lovely parting gift, the Sibs got a small Howdy marionette to take home.
This fascinated me, as I was a huge Howdy fan. The only thing I couldn't understand was why our Howdy couldn't walk. I wanted him to walk, just like the Howdy on TV! Finally, I concluded that what was keeping the magic from happening was the big tangle of strings tied to him, so I cut them off.
The result? Each year, after my birthday party, my sister got first pick of all the present I had gotten to keep one for herself. Each year? Yes. I think she forgot about it when she was 15 or so, but otherwise, she owned first pick of my birthday presents in perpetuity for a transgression I committed at the age of 3.
My question: How the hell did I get a hold of a pair of sharp scissors when I was 3? But I do remember doing it, and my reasoning beforehand. I was a very logical child, even then.
I got this great new retirement countdown counter yesterday -- it's a Google Gadget -- that counts down in days, but it didn't work quite right and I had to put the old one back. I'm working on it.
I'm not feeling all that great today. Possibly a sinus infection, since I've been doing the hot/cold thing all day, but I also had an IBS attack last night, first time in a few years, actually. So far today, I've had two cups of coffee and a Dunkin' Donut -- cookies and creme, yum -- and I just can't figure out what to eat that won't make me feel barfy. (Don't say a word about the donut. I ate it and it was good.)
Even so, I soldiered on and did my normal Saturday morning tasks -- cleaners, bank, post office, Shop Rite -- and then I went to the mall. I rarely, rarely go the mall by myself, and if I do, I go to one store that I need something in and then get out. But I had a few mall errands today, so I walked the whole thing. Mostly, I wanted to ask a question or two at the Apple Store, which I did. There was also a Clinique bonus, and I am totally a sucker for those.
The funny thing is, I was coming out of Macy's back into the mall, and a man stopped me to ask a question. I figured he'd ask for the time or something, but instead, he asked me if I felt that my hearing aids really helped! He had noticed mine, and then I noticed his, in-the-ear on both sides. We stood there talking for about ten minutes, total strangers, until his wife pulled him along. This was a guy of 60, maybe 65. It was a very funny and interesting conversation. He said that he never knew that computer monitors make noise, and no one else knows it! I had to laugh, because of course, computer monitors sing to me all the time! (Thank god for laptops and LCD screens, both silent.) He lost his hearing because he operated a pile-driver all his life. He said he can't use cell-phones at all because of the kind of aids he wears; I can. I never even got to ask him what music sounds like to him, but we talked about how hard it is to understand people with accents, especially in TV. It was one of things he asked me first, if I have trouble with accents, which of course, I do. If I'm watching something on TV and someone with an accent is doing a voice-over, so I can't see the speaker? I change the channel, because that one is never gonna happen, my friend. (BTW, by "accent", I mean when someone who is not a native speaker of English is speaking English. I have no problem with any accent that's just a different original-English accent, like British or Australian, or, for that matter, intense southern U.S. accents. No idea why.)
I did not go to the gym today, more because of my sinus headache and unsettled stomach than because of the incision repair, which is not bothering me today at all. Looks kind of icky, though.
I really must eat something now, because I think my sinus-headache is now a hunger-headache too. I used to get those all the time back in the day, when I ate like a bird, but now that I'm always stuffing my face, not so much. In fact, in my teens and twenties, often I would only remember to eat when I couldn't stand the headache anymore. Ah, those were the days.
