I won’t say I’m old any more. I’ll say “well-seasoned”. Well, in my state of being well-seasoned my mind continues to pop up ancient jingles. Sometimes they are followed by memories associated with them. For instance, the phrase “would you rather be a mule?” Thanks to Google, I found the line to be from a 1944 Bing Crosby song, “Swinging On A Star”:
memories
All posts in the memories category
I USED TO CARE guest poem
Published August 15, 2022 by Nan MykelI used to care
When I was young
Innocent, perhaps naïve.
There was a future
To be secured and enriched
For my family
For the world.
I voted, confident it counted,
Marched, protested, and was seen,
Wrote letters, and believed they were read,
Debated, and was heard.
I witnessed change
With civil rights
Clean water and air
The end of an ugly war
Even a ban on assault rifles.
Now?
More extinctions
Extensive clearing of rainforests
More guns
More fossil fuels being burned
More voter suppression
Government dysfunction
Expansive partisan division and violence
More corporate greed
Widening gap between rich and poor
More rights stripped away.
I used to care
When I was young,
Innocent, perhaps naïve.
Now…only tears.
Thank you Thomas Shostak for permossion to share this poem
Snuggling Up T0…
Published July 11, 2022 by Nan MykelWARM MEMORIES
Let’s Pretend
The Shadow
Kukla Fran and Ollie (by golly)
Stella Dallas
Ma Perkins
My Gal Sunday
The Briarhoppers WBT radio (Wait til The Sun Shines, Nellie!)
The Lone Ranger
As the World Turns
Jack Benny
Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep
Blackberry pickin’
Captain Kangaroo
FBI in Peace and War
Tinker Toys
Arthur Godfrey and All the Little Godfreys
The Old Lamp Lighter
You Are My Sunshine
Hit Parade
Archie Comics
Homemade peach ice cream
Alice in Wonderland
Dick Tracy
Wizard of Oz
Heidi
Raggedy Ann
Chattanooga Shoe Shine Boy
Oh Susannah
Amos and Andy
Clothes lines
Charley Macarthy
Little Orphan Annie
Little Lulu
Katsenjammer Kids
Nancy Drew
Freddy the Detective (a pig)
The ant parade (backyard on the farm)
Dagwood
Coal embers settling down at night
Chattanooga Shoe Shine Boy
Margaret OBrien
Bobbsey Twins
My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean
Sweet smell of the land after a rain
Ma Perkins
The wild plum orchard
Dog on Wood
Hide and Go Seek
Shirley Temple
I Went to the Animal Fair
Somewhere Over the Rainbow
HOW IS IT that my earlier memories are recalled with so much more warmth than many later others? You too? What else do you remember?
End of the Dream for d’Verse
Published April 7, 2018 by Nan MykelCan’t pick up rocks no more
’cause something’s under there
just a-waiting to suck your blood
and pull out all your hair.
Can’t trust nuttin’ any more
It’s all rotted through
The young’uns won’t never know
how wishes might come true.
Kinda Preachy?
Published April 3, 2018 by Nan MykelWhile continuing my discard trip through ages of hoarding the written word, I’m about to discard the following, but cheating and saving it here:
The majority of people are born with one head, two arms and two legs. They have two eyes, two ears, one nose and mouth. But there across-the-board similarities appear to stop. (Of course they stopped with the first sentence in some who have had to struggle from birth with physical differences).
Inside, however, great differences can and do exist. Our nighttime dreams are unique to us, as are our combination of innate temperaments, our perceptions, intellectual potential, educational and family environments, and our genes. (Scientists have even identified a gene for “happiness.”)
It is natural to assume that most of us are as alike inside as outside. We begin to feel different soon after exposure to other children, however. Temperamental differences are one example. With age, some children learn to hide their unique differences; differences which appear unique to themselves; differences which are viewed negatively by others.
Become aware of your feelings as you read the following: cross-eyed, epileptic, club-footed, hare-lipped, retarded, crippled, senile, pock-marked, abused, victim, bow-legged, leper, old nag, brain-damaged, psychotic, neurotic… I wonder if the feelings differ if you’re inside one of these categories or outside. Probably not, because we soak up society’s perception of us. You think, therefore I am.
Eric Berne developed the concept of life scripting, in which people assume the scripts and characteristics that others expect from them, early in life. Some people start out physically and mentally healthy, but along the way are shamed into dis-ease.*
When we feel diminished, we are diminished. When we feel shame, we are shamed. The carpet of our life rolls out until the ragged end unless we can somehow intercept its path.
*Of course, our parents play a big role in this
ABODE OF MY DREAMS – A Poem
Published March 6, 2017 by Nan MykelABODE OF MY DREAMS
The amphibian in me
climbed up the beach,
then turned around
and retraced her steps,
reluctant to abandon the
tears that provide the
ocean’s salt and the
underwater resting place
of dreams and memories.
Small conch shells provide
shelter for the likes of us
and their inhabitants
welcome well-fed housemates.
Some days warm currents,
colorful in their lacy ocean
finery, caress passersby with
armloads of sweet memories.
Since perfection cannot exist
without its opposite, the
idyllic setting also harbors
bedlam. Tsunamis dance on
the horizon, foreshadowing
disruption and chaos. Dreaded
also in both worlds is the
living nightmare which darts
in and out of murky shadows,
menacingly hovering hungrily,
waiting to strike; the barracuda.
Nan