My Saturday Evening Post

L J P...

2012-01-28T12:19:00.000-08:00

A BFF tale...

My first (and probably last) in what might be considered the true sense of the word. In fact, I'm actually somewhat surprised we didn't coin the acronym back in the day...

Don't get me wrong, I've had my share of wonderful friendships in my life and I certainly hope to have many more, but there was just something so very different, special and once-in-a-lifetime about this one. Perhaps it was because we were so young and hadn't completely discovered ourselves yet.. or maybe it was because nobody else liked us!

But we were exactly the same. We called each others mom's "mom", had the same thoughts, finished each other's sentences, had the same dreams, shared the same jokes, smokes, the driving, a bad sense of direction, pj's and the occassional outfit and boyfriend. In short, we pretty much inhabited the same space for a while (even though height-wise I was about a foot taller)...

But there we were. Mutt and Jeff, Tom and Huck, Thelma and Louise, Paris and Nicole, Lucy and Ethel...

I'm sure at that time we could never have ever imagined just how much our paths would eventually diverge and that how one day we would end up not really talking that much at all. Not that we wouldn't talk all night again if we ever had the chance... but we just never have the chance. And I'm pretty sure that the content of any late night discussions we might have now would be very, very different from the late night 'discussions' we had back then...

The first time I met my BFF was on our first night of rehearsal for a community theatre production of "West Side Story." I had escaped the dismal thespian world of Hacienda Heights and had headed over the hill that summer to a place where the opportunities were a little more promising. Anyway, there she was practicing this lift with one of the chorus guys when he almost dropped her and her eyes suddenly locked on mine (I just happened to be the only one standing there) with this big wide eyed "OMG... hahaha... Help Me!!!" face. Well, I was hooked instantly! And the rest is history. By the way, just to prevent any possible confusion here... the word is "Thespian." You can Google it.

Jannet and Lorna - 1971

Andy's SuperBurger - Our Nightly Hangout

I seriously can't remember too much more about my years from age 16 to 18 except for the time we spent together... and when ya think about it those formative years can take up a whole lot of space in one's life. I mean, those events and memories can actually add up to a lot more than say, those from even 26 to 58, which I am now... almost. Funny how that is.

But anyway... other than suffering through school all week (and doing community shows in the summertime) we pretty much just looked forward to the weekends when we could drive into Hollywood or Westwood. And all we needed was a full tank of gas and $5 cash for a night on the town. The full tank of gas cost us about $5 as well... so we were pretty big spenders and free as birds! Not sure exactly what we always did there, except for cruising the boulevard, taking in first run movies at $1.50 a pop, purchasing the latest album at Tower Records, having dinner at Old World or Ships and of course stalking Barbra Streisand. Thankfully Barbra still exists. lol (But that's another whole story entirely...)

Jannet and Lorna - 1972

The Maggot Book...

Seriously. We had one... and we carried it with us everywhere!... because I mean really, one just never knows when a thing like that might come in handy. It was dedicated to "all those obnoxious and annyoing." And all we ever had to do was to ask them their name...

To date there are just 142 entries. Come on Lorn, we could have done SO much better than that!

A Birthday Card for my 18th

Graduation...
It always happens.

Senior Choir Banquet

Graduation Day

Now keep in mind, she was still two years younger than I was and so still had to remain in High School... while I got to go off to pursue college and New York and all sorts of other things grown up... (which just now made me realize that how all of those years I may have been contributing to the downfall of a minor.. :)

But we still kept in touch!

And sent pictures...

And then finally...

Yay!

But after that, honestly?.. I think that both of our lives just got completely crazy. In fact I don't think either of us could hardly keep track of it at the time! College, jobs, shows... and then a U.S.O. tour (which by the way I cannot believe how her mom ever let her fly off to the Orient without making her bed first... and I only know that because I had to make the dang bed myself. lol) But anyway...

We were able to hook up again and re-acquaint during the spring 0f '75 for a trip up the coast...

I Dare You To Blink

BFF's

Damn Mustang

A Christening

And for yet another trip to Vegas...

What happens in Vegas stays...

And then we spent a summer together in NYC the following year, sharing a one room flat with a gal named Piper Pickeral who really loved protein drinks... long before they were fashionable.

Freedom

Rebels

*sigh*

I would end up staying in New York for the next 10 years but at the end of the summer Lorna packed her bags and bid us goodbye. Please don't misunderstand. It's not that she didn't like New York..

She just liked L.A. better...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

So I guess this turned out to be a little more of a photo journey and a little less content filled than I had planned. But there was just so much to cover. Way too many funny little stories, antecdotes and memories to ever be able to fit in here! So I may just have to write some of those down in their own seperate blog entries in the future. Except that once I do that, we may have to kill you...

Anyway, I'm not sure when it was that we lost the together exactly, but I think it may have had something to do with this...

Haha

But seriously, I'm fairly sure that we both shared in a little bit of the blame there. Although blame is not exactly the word I really mean to use at all. I think it's just that we both grew up, which people sometimes tend to do... except that I still ended up growing up to be a little taller... ; )

I believe that a friend is someone you can always count on, someone who makes you laugh and cries along when you do. Someone who gives you good advice even when that outcome will have nothing to do with them. Someone who you can just sit with without ever wondering what to say and yet who will still forgive you when you end up saying something stupid or at least less than smart.

But a BFF is all of the above plus one who at some point defines you... and not only for a time but, in a way, forever (thus the double F's...). And someone who, if you ever happened to just show up at the other's front door one day, say 40 years later, wouldn't even question it or think it particularly weird... Someone who can attend your first wedding and then completely understand when it doesn't work out without you even having to explain it and vice-versa... Someone who rejoices with you in the birth of your first child and loves all the beautiful pictures you send and then later shares with you all the trials and joys of being a mother to that beautiful baby... and again, vice-versa.

...And also someone who introduces you to AOL (the really big thing back in the 90's!...) and then years later accepts your "friend" request on FaceBook without question, even though you may not exactly fit the demograpghic. lol

And oh yes, someone who you might be able to send a silly blog like this one to and who will just laugh right along with you at all the memories, almost as if it were yesterday.

Anyway, LJP, thanks so much for everything. It was definitely a blast!

And so just how many times did you actually end up appearing on Johnny Carson exactly anyway?...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Bedtime Rituals...

2012-01-14T09:53:00.000-08:00

Being the middle child, I always had to share a room while growing up. Or maybe a better way of putting it is that I always GOT to share a room. First with Carol, who then got her own when Jeannie got too old to sleep in the crib in my parent's room, after which I became "roomies" with Jeannie.

I have two very distinct memories of those two different arrangements, which at the time may have been just silly childhood goings on, but they have somehow stuck in my mind forever.

Carol and I had storytime.

I think it all started on the day when somebody barfed on the patio outside the nurses office right after we got our flu shots at Valinda Elementary. I was in first grade.

I came home and told everyone about it and and how totally gross it was and that how afterwards they'd had to call the Jennifer (janitor) to clean it up... (except that I don't think the word "gross" actually existed at the time...as a matter of fact I don't remember if the word "barf" did either.)

Well anyway, Carol, big sister that she was, roared with laughter...

So then ensued our midnight tales in bed every night after the lights were out. The stories could be as absolutely discusting as we could possibly make them, but the one rule was that they always had to end with the tag line "And the Jennifer cleaned it up." I remember the stories involving every possible type of bodily excretion that we were aware of at the time... And Vic Tanny (the health fitness guru at the time) also found his way into many of our stories so they were never lacking in entire swimming pools overflowing with fat and blubber. Fun times, fun times.

Many years later... I was writing to Carol and we were laughing about all those stories we use to tell each other... when I ended up with the thought of "Wow, little did we know that one day she REALLY would..." hahahaha (some of you will get that...)

We also had our alternate story theme called "The Family Wash"... but I don't remember any of them too distinctly, but I think the stories were pretty similiar just maybe not quite as graphic. At any rate airing our dirty laundry wasn't one of our big specialties at the time...

Me and Lala... a couple years before "the stories"...

Next came little sis Jeannie and the back scratches. We had a nightly routine that we couldn't stray from. This was the order. Short design, long design, scribble, short picture, long picture, scratch. Of course each one had to be erased in between, which basically meant a backrub. I was usually the unselfish older sister always offering to do her back first... so that I could just fall asleep afterwards. Haha

We had a date last year to revisit the backscratches when we found out we were going to have to share a bed at our family reunion in Aspen Grove, but then unfortunately, a room freed up...

We all played Apples to Apples out in the common area instead.

Jeannie and me in the BYU dorms summer of '64 while mom was going to school. I think this may have been where our backscratching tradition began.

The three of us in the backyard on Lawnwood St. in '60.

I sure do love my sisters and all our memories! I think we really need to do another sleepover one of these days.

A Chorus Line...

2011-04-16T20:06:00.000-07:00

So it's been well over 30 years since I did this show. Which also equates to over 30 years of not being able to imagine ever NOT doing it.. as well. But that's pretty much always the way it is with things you do...

But I still believe it must have been my destiny somehow, because it was the thing that really defined all of those other things that came after it. And I tend to wonder about those kinds of things sometime. Like if something hadn't happened just exactly the way it did (on that one day), would I still have my children.. or my grandchildren? Would they look the way they do? Would they still be who they are? Would I have gone back to school? Would I have had this same job for 18 years? Would I have ever (EVER) lived in Michigan? Would I even be typing this right now? Because there is so much it seems... that could have the capacity to change one's life entirely, just by the direction of one's path or a decision made in a millisecond.

But I think I already wrote down some similar thoughts like this once, so I suppose there's really no need to reinvent the wheel.

A Simple Twist of Fate...

Anyway, rewinding back to the 70's...

I think that when this show hit the NY scene in May of 1976 it suddenly became every dancers dream. I think that, because the 5 auditions I attended (and all of which I was almost immediately cut from without given a second chance) was fairly similar to how I picture the American Idol cattle calls of today. They were crazy and exhilarating... but also totally humiliating.

And I don't even know what kept me going back time after time except for that little voice inside that kept telling me I could TOTALLY do that role. (To be honest I don't think that I ever really "pictured" myself doing that role... but I just really, really wanted to do it!)

So I suppose you'll now (in case you didn't do it before) have to click on that little link up there to find out how it all went down...

I guess I'm only saying this because, really?... I don't think anyone should ever doubt their potential to do anything that they're willing to set their sights on and work to achieve. Because although nothing usually comes from nothing... something will always SOMEHOW find it's way... I truly believe that.

And that one moment, on the Shubert stage, when I was finally, FINALLY offered the show?... Well, all I can say is that everyone should be allowed to have at least one of those moments in their life.

Because wow... What a really, REALLY great sixty seconds!

Here's an audio tape of a recording from a portion of the show in from San Francisco, Golden Gate Theatre, 1980 (not 1979 btw.. my goof! But when you get to be my age what's a year or two in either direction anyway?...) And what an added blessing to our posterity that Brad also happened to be on that night!..

And see? Sometimes you don't even need to be able to sing! (2:06-2:38) and (3:47-4:36) But at 6:50?...well, I think those seven syllables were pretty good : )... lol

Cast List:
Don - Rick Conant
Maggie - Stephanie Eley
Mike - Jamie Torcellini
Connie - Sachi Shimizu
Greg - Stephen Moore
Cassie - Wanda Richert
Sheila - Rita O'Conner
Bobby - Ron Kurowski
Bebe - Tracy Shayne
Judy - Jannet Moranz
Richie - Ralph Glenmore
Al - Brad Moranz
Kristine - Kerry Casserly
Mark - Scott Plank
Val - Pamela Ann Wilson
Paul - Stephen Crenshaw
Diana - Gay Marshall
Zach - Tony Teague
Larry - Marshall Hagins

Up next I suppose... All the other stuff that came before.

I Left My Heart In San Francisco... oops.

2011-04-09T14:02:00.001-07:00

My memories must be pretty disorganized. Because this isn't the exact order I'd hoped to present it in when I started all this. There's a ton of stuff that came before. A ton! But if I don't do this now it might all get buried amongst the countless piles of life's living, so I guess I should just share it now while it's still somewhat fresh on my mind for the first time in well, a long time...

So anyway... Somewhere along the line I found my self lucky enough to be cast in this show.. "A Chorus Line." I toured with it for a year, which looking back, was probably one of the sweetest years of my life. San Francisco fell about half way into that tour with Baltimore, Minneapolis, Denver, San Diego, Portland, San Jose and LA lying on one half and Memphis, Buffalo, Cleveland, St. Louis and Louisville on the other. I seriously don't remember too much about the "before or after" halfs. In fact, I even had to go searching through my old scrapbooks even to be able to remember where they fell in the scheme of things... and even then, I'm pretty certain I haven't gotten them in the right order.

But I DO remember San Francisco. It was where I fell in love. And the whole thing of it was sort of odd because I hadn't really been attracted to him at all during that first half. And I was staying in this (seedy) apartment, right in the middle of the tenderloin district at the time. So how it all ended up, somehow, equating to love... I'm not really sure. It just did.

Perhaps it all began that night he returned from Aspen...

Or, during that foggy evening at the Cliff House, gazing out at the seals...

Or that beautiful afternoon at Stinson Beach...

Or during that trippy trip to Tahoe...

Or over that incredible weekend in Maui?

Or during that (icky) month in Europe?

Honestly?.. I'm thinking it could have been any one of those times... if memory serves me correctly...

But Memory's getting ahead of herself here... (she tends to do that sometimes...)

And right now, she's thinking it was still all the tenderloin's fault somehow...

Or the fact that she just really liked bowling...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

P.S. Just found this. Written some time around 2004...

I've always heard the saying "lightning doesn't strike the same place twice" or something like that. So since i've already been struck I think I can safely assume that I am now relatively safe from any future calamity..

The "striking" occurred in the winter of 1980. San Francisco. He had verdant eyes the color of mossy pools and lips that were plump and ripe shell pink... and he spoke of truths. He was kind and gentle, witty and snarky, yet firm and deliberate when the occassion warranted. The lightening clouds began rumbling overhead but the ZAP held back. Because he was way to "sensitive" to be the macho man of my dreams... and I'd already had a pretty long relationship with one of those "sensitive" types, if you get my drift...

And then he sang. And that zigzaggy cord of light and energy zipped and zapped me every this way and that. I begged for mercy but there would be no relief, for a long time to come...

Not for years and years in fact...

But then about 20 years later...

There it was...

Long story short - If you wanna make God laugh ~ all you gotta do is tell Him your plans...

Anyway, all I really meant to do here was just share some of these pictures with our kids... and of course, this vid...

My First "Girl Crush"...

2011-03-26T12:57:00.000-07:00

It's Saturday Night! And at least seventy Saturday nights since I last posted, I know!... but I've been kind of busy. And I guess I just wasn't sure what else to add to my "memoirs." I mean, you've already learned about my family... and all my very first memories. The next several years were just pretty much well,... embarrassing.

But I guess now seems like just as good a time as any to jump in and tell you this little story...

In 1967 my family moved me from being a big fish in a little pond (La Puente, California) to being a very little fish (though already 5'7" with a fairly big nose) to a much bigger pond (Hacienda Heights), and, being only 13 at the time, I really didn't really handle it very well.

I had just recently seen a production of "The Diary of Anne Frank" at my big sister's High School and so immediately, upon moving into our new home, found the perfect spot (under the staircase) where I could lock myself in for hours at a time to write in my "journal," pretty much only coming out for school, mealtimes, or to watch my favorite TV program "The Patty Duke Show."

Remember it?

*sigh*

It was already in syndication by that time so, depending on the night, we'd get different versions of the show's opener. Here's one of the earlier versions...

But enough of that...

And then she began appearing on all these variety shows. So many in fact that I could hardly keep track, given that we only had this one little printed version of the TV guide that we had to actually go to the grocery store and purchase each week. But I loved this performance!

Anyway, I suppose my real downward spiral and decline began very innocently one night while attending some family friendly movie at the local Eastland Theater. I was simply out there in the lobby buying either popcorn or one of those 15 cents (at the time) packages of "Charms," when I happened upon this poster of upcoming attractions...

Ok, so who's to say that posters like this shouldn't be allowed to be displayed in the lobby during the normal "family friendly" movie nights? But bingo! It hooked me.

I'm not sure exactly what happened after that. I can only assume now that, at the time, I realized it was actually possible for a dorky, gangly little girl to still have a chance of blossoming into a mature, sexy, pill-popping, slut. Though I don't really think those were the actual adjectives that were running through my mind at the time. I just suddenly wanted to BE her... or at least know that there was a chance I'd ever be able to escape my boring little world. Because I really DID want to become an actress... eventually. In fact, during that very same time I remember standing in my backyard at night and looking down over the lights of my little town thinking... "Someday they'll ALL know who I am!" Haha, as if the lights of Hacienda Heights was "the world."

But so, the very next week, I BEGGED my mom to take me to see "Jungle Book" at that same theater... secretly hoping that they'd show previews of the upcoming attractions. Little did I know that even back then they typically gear the previews to the general demographics in attendance... And so anyway, by the way, I hated "Jungle Book."

But I somehow eventually snuck into the movie illegally anyway and it was AWESOME!

(Watching it 30 years later though, not so much...)

Memories get a little mixed up here, but I think it was shortly after that that I changed my journal entries from "Dear Diary.." to "Dear Patty.." Yeah, I know. But hey, I was still only 13. I wrote to her every day, religiously. I still have them. Every single entry, of which I will most likely burn shortly before I die... : ) And I bought and clipped out every single thing I could find about her from "Teen Beat" etc... as if it were all spot on true... and made the most amazing scrapbook! Followed everything about her for years! Ask mom.

And then somehow I ended up with mononucleoses during my 15th year which confined me to bed-rest for about 2 months. My grandma was there to bring up my meals during the day... I had a tutor from school come in once or twice a week... and of course the best thing about the whole thing was that I got a TV moved into my room! My mom even surprised me one day with this little gift to keep me company!

Which included a bunch of golden oldies...

Say Something Funny

Funny Little Butterflies

And the all time Shindig favorite...Please Don't Just Stand There

But still! I wore that thing out!

And then, well, after being confined to bed for a month or so I remember not being able to sleep at all one night, and so I most innocently stumbled into my parents bathroom, and into their medicine cabinet. It really didn't seem like such a bad thing to do at the time. I mean, wasn't that what Neely O'Hara did whenever she wanted to get some shut-eye? Turned out to be not such a great idea though. Oh I lived alright! But only after an emergency trip to the hospital. It also cost my parents a couple of sleepless nights of their own. I was a pretty dumb kid back then...

But I don't think it was until the evening I watched the Golden Globe Awards in 1970 that I even realized something might be wrong with her. And even then, I still thought she was so beautiful and went right back afterwards to my journal and wrote... "Awww, are you ok??? Call me... !" As if. I just love how completely innocent I was at the time. This video is quite telling and I'm sure much more complicated that I could have ever made it out to be in my mind at the time.

And yes, that was Desi Arnaz Jr. sitting beside her...

But as with all things... they eventually pass. And by 1971 I'd pretty much changed by journal entry benefactress to "Barbra"... which I guess will now be the NEXT story I'll probably have to write...

But in all loyalty... I just love these next interviews from a TV talk show from Toronto around 1981. She still hadn't been diagnosed yet with bi-polar, but was definitely on her way to discovering it. She turned out to be a very happy woman afterall. Mother and grandmother of many. Eventual happy wife (who now lives in Idaho!)... and a long time President of the Screen Actors Guild. So I suppose things could have turned out much worse...

Interview Part 1

Interview Part 2

Interview Part 3

One of the best autobiographies I've ever read! v v v

Call Me Anna

Anyway... to finish off this post.

GoGo Bewts!...

...verses Social Security...

Gotta love it!

Memories of My Grandparents

2009-12-19T21:34:00.000-08:00

I have six. Though I can really only remember three. And even then, mostly vaguely.

Of course I remember my Grandma on my mother's side the most since she lived with us during much of my childhood. She'd had twelve children, so after Grandpa Brigham passed away she spent most of the rest of her life visiting with and caring for her children's kids, of which I was probably one of the primary benefactors.

This is how I will always remember my Grandma Peterson...

Stella Jarvis Peterson

She had long gray hair, down to her waist and even beyond, that she would tie up in a little tiny knot at the nape of her neck. As a child I think I figured that the older you got the longer your hair grew. Anyway... her hair was really, really long. And her skin was very wrinkled and "baggy." During those many long hours in church pretty much the only thing that kept my attention was playing with her wobbly neck and then, after I got bored with that I'd sleep for the rest of the meeting with my head on her lap.

We'd take a lot of trips. My family would travel to Arizona or Utah practically every summer (in my Aunt Clara's Ford Rambler through thunder and lightning storms as I mostly remember) and we'd be driving through the deserts with all those vast mountain ranges or intermidable stretches of desert on all sides and we'd sing songs like "We Are Sowing" or "High On A Mountain Top" or "They The Builders of A Nation"... and I've never been able to sing those songs in church since without thinking of her... and the landscapes.

Sayings she had a plenty. One I remember the most was "When mother speaks obey! Do not falter, do not stay, but quickly say "I Will!" And when she said it, she meant it!

Another favorite saying of hers was "Work while you work and Play while you play." That never really made sense to me as a child, but it does now. And a little song that went like this... "Have I done any good in the world today? Have I helped anyone in need? Have I cheered up the sad or made someone feel glad? If not I have failed indeed."

I think one of my greatest memories though was of that little black purse and of the lemon drops hidden within her little hanky. That little black purse was like a treasure trove to me!

There are many, many bedtime stories out there. Some traditional and some not so much. But I think I may be unique in having this poem (by annonymous) recited to me (by heart) probably at every single bedtime of my young life.. or at least it seemed that way to me. I can still recite it (by heart) too! But I was so glad to be able to find it!

The Little Blackberry Girl

I think the thing that impressed me most about Grandma was her ability to work her fingers to the bone and then to just find the time to "sit still." She used to love to go on drives and then just sit in the car while we carried out our errands and I don't ever remember her complaining about how long she'd had to sit and wait. She could always find something to think about...

Oh yes, and I remember that she also loved to mend socks...

Grandma Stella was always old to me. But what's funny is that she wasn't ALWAYS.

Grandma Stella as a young girl with her little sister. She was so pretty!

Marriage to Brigham Young Peterson in 1904

Young Wife and Mother

Brigham Young Peterson

I never knew my Grandpa Brigham, but have always regarded him as so dapper and handsome!...

And distinguished!

When people tell me I'm a "Peterson" I take that as a compliment.

Grandma Stella in her prime...

And a brief note from her...

Dad's Side

We'll as I've mentioned before, the whole story is a little complicated.

My true grandparents on my dad's side are Henry Howard Lamoreaux and Ivy Delilah Allen. Though I never knew either one of them.

My paternal grandparents were divorced when my dad was a child and their temple sealing cancelled by Heber J. Grant. So I guess that made it pretty official...

Ivy Allen - Dad's Mom

She was a great-great-great grandaughter of the lyricist William Wines Phelps who wrote many of the LDS hymns including "The Spirit of God" and many others, so I guess in a way I'm still sort of related.

Ivy eventually married Tom Horsley, afterwhich he was asked which he liked better... lambs or horses in choosing his ultimate last name (or so the story goes). And again, I have very little information on my dad's life during this time or virtually about ANY of his time growing up.

Thomas Leroy Horsley

I do know that Ivy passed away while my dad was in the Navy... and sometime later Tom married Enid... and that they would then turn out to be the paternal grandparents I would come to know and love. And it never occurred to me in all those years of growing up that we weren't blood related! So I guess it just goes to show...

The thing I remember the most about visits to Grandma and Grandpa Horsley's house was the suffocating heat. They lived in Mesa, AZ. But in their house they had all these little nic-nacs and a curio cabinet full of all sorts of cool stuff. A recliner that you could lean back in and put your feet up and a foot pump organ which I would spend hours on, and which I think we inherited later... And grandma, being the church music director, had this baton that always fascinated me. She was always telling me to be careful with it when I'd swing it around.

And they had the oldest car in the world. Even at the time I knew it was old. It smelled old! And they had these little nylon visers on the windows to deflect the heat and the sunlight but I think the fact that they had deteriorated so badly from all of the heat and sunlight was one of the reasons it smelled so bad in there.

At age 4 in front of the car

Grandpa was on the Mesa police force for years and years, but I never knew it. Not until his funeral service when there were blocks and blocks of police cars escorting the caravan to the cemetary. I always remember him being so quiet and reserved. Or maybe it's just because he was finally able to rest from his duties. At any rate... he never seemed like a policeman to me. Grandma was the robust one. Always laughing! Always smiling! Always singing! I remember she had an obsession with this late night radio talk show which she would often call into to share her thoughts, especially after grandpa died. She also had a very strong kinship with Alexander Schriener, the late LDS Tabernacle organist, but to this day I'm not quite certain what that relationship was.

The best thing I remember about visiting them was that they'd always take me shopping to buy "a dress" and "a toy." The dress I could have probably done without, but I'll never forget the feel and smell of Mesa's "Main Street" and "shopping" with my grandparents!

Aren't they SO friggin' cute?

A letter from Grandma Enid...

Anyway, I've only included some of my most vivid memories here as the geneology on both sides of my family has pretty much been completed for the most part. But there is still a detailed abundance of family treasure to be found in this wonderful book my mom compiled...

it's on the coffee table...

...Along with quite a bit of fairly well organized stuff that I've collected over the years which is in that old trunk of mine...

The one in the front hall...

Letters to My Sisters...

2009-12-19T14:57:00.000-08:00

Excerpts from previous "Happy Birthday" blog posts.

To Lala... or that would be... Carol Ann to the rest of you...

Ok, here goes... Well, first of all... thanks for not doing anything like trying to suffocate me after mom brought me home from the hospital.

After that... one of my favorite childhood rememberances was of our times at night in our little twin beds... creating those yarns with a twist. The twist being that the stories always had to end with the phrase "...and the jennifer cleaned it up." Omg...wouldn't this just be TOO entirely too complicated to try to explain the premise of to anyone else ???!!!... or to explain the reason why we were able to laugh about the irony of it so many years later? Anyway...

Do you remember when you and "Biggie" (bwah) had me going on thinking that you guys went to some place in your dreams every night where you got to ride horses and stuff? And do you know how many mornings I woke up sobbing because I somehow hadn't figured out the magic password that I was suppose to somehow come up with in my sleep?

And then there were all those slimy pollywogs.

After that you left me alone and ignored me for like 10 years except for those times when you and Regina would make fun of me for some reason. Was I really that weird back then too???

But haha... then you went off to college and yet actually wrote to me like almost every day, and I can prove it because I still have all your letters! Guess you must have been homesick or something. Anyway... through your stationary you even subliminally tried to encourage me to incorporate your hot pink and orange dormroom scheme into my/our very own bedroom... which, btw, was by now all mine! (neenerneenerneener) Unfortunately I succumbed...

And THEN you went and got married. And I wanted to BE you! Ha! I bet you never even knew that that did you? That whole summer while I was behaving like an absolute brat as I was being forced to help address wedding invitations and glue all those hot pink and orange flowers into those bridesmaids baskets? Yes, big sister LaLa... it's all true.

But then kids and husbands... etc... etc... etc... began to fill up our days. And before we knew it some 30 odd years had past!...

But ya know it's funny, because as it turns out...some of the very best times I've ever had in my life have STILL ended up being the times I've shared with you! And so how did that happen? Perhaps it's because we're the only one's on this planet who completely "get" each other!...

Anyway...

Happy Birthday Carol Ann!

Hope you had a good one!

And it's not THAT bad getting older... is it?

...is it?

* * * * * * *

And To Jeannie... or I guess that should be... Alison...

So did you think I'd forget?

Fat chance! bwahahahaha.

So anyway... Here's what my little sister jee-nee looked like somewhere around 43 years ago today.

Isn't she just adorable? The most perfect bangs... nice little curls... and a to-die-for tie pin...

And yes, I coveted it ALL. I did.

Too bad that she turned out to be such an agonizingly unnactractive young woman...

So yes... Sibling rivalry at it's best I guess it was. She always did have the most perfect curls or the perfectly straight and silky locks. Whichever and whatever she wanted... But then it's always been that way! She even got to get married three times!!!

Mom!!!...

**Switches to first person to make it more personable...**

OK... you know I'm kidding, don't you? Just joshin' with you, right? Because right off the top of my head... I have 2 of just the most wonderful memories that are so vivid in my brain right now that they are about to burst out of it:

Like the time that I was babysitting you and I made you go outside on the driveway wearing my oversized pair of rollerskates, even though I knew you didn't have a CLUE how to rollerskate... But somehow you came through. And so yeh.. I never DID get to borrow that pair of crutches from you that I was hoping and praying that you'd end up needing...

And then there was that time when I was directing that production of "A Little Princess" in our basement... and out of ALL the kids in the WHOLE neighborhood I let YOU be Sara Crew. Oh, I KNOW I didn't have to... but then "I guess that's what makes me so nice" tm Glinda from "Wicked." Nevermind that we never actually performed it... even though we did rehearse it a lot! And it's always the thought that counts anyway.

Now don't get me wrong... We do have several, OK... multitudinous, OTHER memories ... but I think you'll probably agree with me that most of them are just much too embarrassing or too private to share. So shhh, don't you dare tell and I won't either.

My one serious question, however, is... how did you end up somehow being such a wonderful sister afterall? Because truly... you are one of the few people on earth who really knows me. And I just never would have expected that of you when you were like... 5. And even though you are now... 48 (omg!)... you are still, in my mind, my adorable little sister jee-nee, except who is now Alison, and probably always SHOULD have been. You've just always been the "Alison" type, ya know?

And STILL not too pathetically atrocious to look at...

I love you! So much!

Your sister

Oh! And THIS just in. I knew all that acting training I gave you would eventually pay off!

* * * * * * *

The Best Mom Ever

2009-05-09T19:50:00.000-07:00

Ever noticed how MoM is still always spelled MoM.. even backwards?

And then just look what happens when you turn it upside down!

Anyway.. I am completely convinced that I have... and have ALWAYS had the very best WoW!

I've jotted down some memories in the past about all the reasons I think she is so incredible, which you can read about here and here, but today I just felt like sharing a couple more:

Nurturer
Here's a picture of my mom as a baby. The youngest of 12 children. You would have thought she'd have grown up spoiled rotten with all those older siblings doting over her.

Ironically she turned out to be the most selfless caregiver of all. Caring not only for her mother and many of her sisters at various stages of their lives, but her own children, her children's friends, her students, her grandchildren and great-grandchildren, the homeless, the sick, the elderly... and I think at one time even my cat.

She just doesn't know how to say No. Nor would it even occur to her to want to...

"Singer" Extraordinaire
My mom has always been a wonderful seamstress. Having been rather poor as a child and then growing up during the Depression she learned how to sew her own clothes early on. Her mother had always taught her how to make garments that were as beautiful on the inside as they were on the out. Here is the pink taffeta dress she made for her 8th grade graduation. She entered it into a 4H sewing competition on a chance to win a trip to Europe but was disqualified because she wasn't yet 16.

She tried her darndest to teach me sew, however the skill never quite caught on. I did end up making a couple of Halloween costumes for my own kids many years later... but only out of dire necessity. Thanks Mom!

Here's me wearing that exact same taffeta dress in one of my theatrical productions nearly 35 years later! So it was obviously made to last. Hope I didn't trash it TOO much. If I did... Sorry Mom!

Graduation dresses, formals, recital costumes, you name it... I'm sure it must have been tons of work for her while teaching full time. And I'm not sure I completely appreciated it until I was in the midst of raising my own.

Glamour Girl and Homecoming Queen Runner-Up
She definitely should have won!

Teacher
Here are a couple of pictures of mom as a teacher which span four decades. She taught for 37 years!

My first memory of mom as a teacher was attending "Nursery School" for her Child Development class. I don't know where the other kids came from and I'm not sure how long it lasted, maybe just a couple of days or a week. But I especially remember sitting around in a circle for singing time, and playing on the wooden rocking horse that was really MINE.

But my very favorite memory from when I was a little older was when she'd let me go to school with her once or twice a year. There was an office, a cooking room, a sewing room and a regular classroom all lined up in railroad fashion and it was like over a mile from one end to the other... And after exploring I'd sit at her desk in the office and pretend to be a teacher myself.

Eating lunch in the teacher's lounge was always an awesome treat!

Mom taught at that school for 22 years and then transferred to a brand new one as department chairman for another 15 years. I remember how much she loved those orange counter tops in the cooking room. And they WERE pretty awesome! In the new school she pioneered one of the first "On Your Own" curriculums ever I think, teaching her students all about the logistical facts of life. There were budgets and weddings to be planned and I think also a few babies.

It was here where I learned not only how to operate a mimeograph machine but also how to appropriately color code and organize every imaginable thing!

She loved her students and they loved her! I remember more than once hearing that a new student was so excited to have her as a teacher because of how much her mom had loved being in her class!

I was able to attend her retirement dinner in 1986 and it was quite the tribute! What a touching event it was in celebrating 37 years of a wonderful career! And that was 20 years ago! She's lived right I guess!

Everyone's MoM
And I mean that when I say it.

It wasn't unusual for our home to be filled with a dozen kids after school on any given day. And we didn't sit quietly and play video games back then. No. but we'd tear everything out of the cupboards and dress up closets and every nook and cranny imaginable!

She was always the one to host the the birthday parties, the pre-dance gatherings, the swimming parties for all the kids from church and eventually many of my cast parties. I'll never forget one afternoon during the summer of '69 when our living room was "the place" where over two dozen teenagers witnessed man's first walk on the moon!

And when she wasn't hosting she'd be chaperoning... Girl Scout trips to the mountains or Catalina... beach trips with the youth... taking her Primary students to the park... or Knott's Berry Farm. I'll bet she doesn't think I probably remember the time that we all played hide and seek on that little island across the road from it... or the time we dared her for nearly two hours to just jump off of off that playground structure into the sand, which she eventually did! What a game girl!

I could effortlessly name several handfuls of friends who at one time or another have called her "MoM." Did I mind? Not at all. It truly always made me feel really proud. Like I had a really, really special one. Ya know?

MY MoM!
Funnest day ever! Just HER and ME!

I took this one of her...

And then she took this one of me...

Negotiator
I'll never forget the time my MoM got caught going 30 mph in a 25 mph zone. Where after going back and taking a picture of the posted speed limit sign (completely hidden by a conglomeration of tree branches) she took it to the judge... magnifying glass and all! Needless to say she didn't hav'ta pay.

I so seriously wish that I had that picture!

Orchestrator
Family Hawaii Cruise of 2008... Need I say more? But in the end? It was the best time ever!

Writer
Ok, so she didn't actually write it, she made darn sure that everyone else did! And then she put the whole thing together! And what a great tribute to her own parent's legacy it is!

I hope that everyone lucky enough to be blessed with a copy of this book reads it! I have to admit that once I started I couldn't stop. No, seriously! That must have taken a whole lot of work! And a whole lot of love!

Grandma
Grandma of 16 and Great-Grandma to (oh my gosh I don't even know how many!)

But what I do know is what a GREAT Grandma she's been to mine.

I could never have done it without her!

Always there through the thick and thin... and sticky. If not for Grandma I am certain my kids would have never experienced the wonderment of sugar easter eggs... and multitudinous other messies...

And it's just been such a comfort having MoM so close by for my kids who now live so very far away from me, with never the lack of an "Omelette for a Crowd."

Grandma's house is just special! From the 'scary' pictures in the bedroom downstairs to the Celestial Living Room just above. Along with the early morning musak...

And I Also Want to Thank Her Again... for this:
Because she probably thought I was a complete and utter weakling after this experience. But I want to thank her so much for being there for me! For holding my hand through it. And also for supervising all those nurses...
I was somehow thinking about this just the other day and suddenly remembered that it wasn't just me all alone in the delivery room the morning my precious little second child was born, afterall.

And then I got pretty much choked up on that humungous memory.

Wife and Soulmate
The love of his life and vice-versa...
I swear... Probably one of the best matches ever made to date on the face of this planet! It's rather amazing really!

And if my siblings will allow me to speak for them as well, I think that we would probably ALL say how happy we are for them and for all of the precious and priceless things they have managed to discover together!

A match definitely made in Heaven... for all Eternity and even way beyond if that's even possible. For sure!

Ya know, it's really hard to try to express it all in this one little blog entry. And I realize this has been pretty long as it is.

But thank you MoM, really. For being the best one ever! Then, Then and NoW.

I Love You! I Do!

Happy Mother's Day Mom!

My Life In The 50's. Then and Now. Get it?

2009-04-04T21:00:00.000-07:00

On a Sunday afternoon in July of 1969, I sat on an avocado green sofa in my living room along with my family and some family friends as a famous astronaut placed his left foot on the moon and declared, “One small step for man… but a giant leap for mankind.”

And even though I could just barely make much out of the distorted frames of video and much less through the static audio (even though our 14” console Motorola was truly state-of-the-art at the time) still, my 14 year old mind knew that a thing quite remarkable had just taken place. I fact, I distinctly remember saying to myself, "This is it! We’ve made it! There’s nowhere left to go or anything further that can possibly top this! I mean seriously… the moon???"

I’d heard rumors of how there would someday be a television set that you could wear on your arm like a wristwatch!… and how one day robots would take over the everyday functions of normal human beings. But I figured that these ideas were probably just being generated from the depths of someone’s fantasy mind, much like those belonging to the creators of one of my favorite Saturday morning cartoons, "The Jettsons." Although I found it fairly interesting how the characters on that show still had some of the everyday and normal challenges that MY own family had.

Life Back Then and Bit Beyond…

I was born in 1954 (the year of the big polio scare.) I can’t speak from much personal experience of the early 50’s or even much of the late 50’s for that matter. But what I don’t remember from those times I still have lots of photographs to trigger my memories. Tiny black and white ones at that, but still much more vivid and much more memory inducing ones than those developed by the new photo processing technologies of the 70’s, which have since then all but completely disintegrated.

In the year I was born, my parents bought us a brand new 3 bedroom ranch home in the suburbs of Los Angeles for around $13,000. It was a little bit nicer than the one I own now. They made about $5,000 a year… so a little bit less than what I now make. But still…

I think perhaps my first clue as to the fact that technology might be changing occurred in 1957 when our family car upgraded from our Ford Coupe Convertible and I could no longer sit on my daddy’s lap while he drove teaching me the basics of hand signals. This new car of ours had this awesome sort of new doohickey installed in it that could actually signal your intent automatically, with just a flick of a wrist… without even rolling your window down.

Other than that, I don’t think I ever had a clue that anything would ever be any different than it was right then. And it didn’t matter much. Because everything seemed just fine to me!

But if I could paint a couple of small pictures of what my life was like back then, here’s what I would paint: (Not that I can paint, mind you…)

The little metal trough on the west side of my house where we would feed crickets to the frogs and then watch them spawn tadpoles from time to time.
All the fields and hills and trails which were available to explore. And we weren’t afraid of them back then, and neither were our parents. So of course, we did just that. Explored them. And sometimes those fields were so tall that we’d literally get lost in them. For days sometimes.
Playing kick-ball in the vacant lot until the sun went down like the big orange ball which looked surprisingly similar to the big orange ball we’d just been playing with.
Riding my bicycle, the swing-set, the sprinklers, tether-ball, hula hoop, Slinky, Mr. Potato Head, Candy Land, Tinker Toys, Legos… and well, the list goes on.

But still, there was this technology out there… lurking... somewhere.

We had 13 TV channels, which I assume pretty much everyone else in our neighborhood had at that time as well. But I’m not sure whether or not we had to upgrade something to be able to view that first episode of "Bewitched" in Living Color or not, but I do remember watching it and thinking “Wow!” It was almost as surprising and confusing to me as that first time I wondered where those Mouseketeers would go every time they left the stage. In fact I think I remember checking behind my television set and even inside the vertical/horizontal control flap a time or two… to see if I could spot them.

As a child I loved art! Creating and drawing. Loved it! But I could never do it very well. Stick figures were even a daunting task for me. Yet my love for it continued. So thankfully there was the Etch-A-Sketch, the latest and greatest in new realm of graphic design technology, because I was really pretty good at that!

Given my apparent love for the arts, while realizing my much limited eye to hand coordination, my parents decided to enroll me in ballet classes at five. The recitals, I remember, were the best. Yet I only have my memories to draw from. I know my dad tried to grab a lot of home movies of them, but they are still pretty sad and pathetic mementos. No offense to dad. It wasn’t his fault. Not even my Broadway memories of 20 years later would provide me much to share with my kids. Video just hadn’t become quite "the thing" yet.

And who could ever forget the reel-to-reel tape recorder that took up half of the entire dining room table? I use to carry that 8 inch reel of tape back and forth with me to my voice lessons each and every week. And then I shrieked the first time I heard my thin and tinny voice emanating from it because that voice was definitely not mine!

In the 60’s my mother, who was a school teacher, used to let me skip my own school once or twice a year and would take me to her school and let me be her assistant for the day. One of my jobs was running off handouts in the office using the mimeograph machine. I always loved doing that because of the medicinal way those things smelled, hot off the press, before the ink dried. Another one of my jobs would be to take test papers and insert the grades, line by line, into her grade book. I remember one time, however, putting the carbon paper in backwards and then having to enter them all in a second time. After that, she showed me how to take each person’s grades and calculate them into an average to find their current grade. But not having a calculator, the job would usually take all day. So now, years later, it’s pretty much clear to me why she needed my services.

I moved to New York City right after I graduated from High School in 1972. All alone in a studio apartment on 72nd Street… at nineteen, I had neither a cell phone nor even an antiquated land line. However I did have two cassette tapes which I played incessantly until I completely wore them out… and I wrote a lot of letters. Replies to those letters would sometimes take two, three weeks… or more to get back, but I still have them…every one of them!… to this day. And though I don’t know if I’ll ever read them again they are still really nice to have. There was just something very special back in the day about actually having something to hold in your hand. On the other hand… most of my current emails have all pretty much been deleted.

And then Ziiiiip…Fast-Forward… I Was Raising My Kids…

Needless to say, my children grew up with a little less sense of adventure than I did. However, by the time they reached High School they were both typing around 105 words per minute. I remember thinking how extraordinary that was since at that age I’d average around 28. On a good day! And then I realized that typing was the lifeline between themselves and their friends. It was how they communicated with each other. There was no need any longer to just go “hang out.” And I guess this in a way had its upside.

In 2002, I wrote a paper entitled "The Cyber Habits of Virtually Addicted People" (based loosely on the title of the Stephen R. Covey book of a similar name.) In it I belabored not only the fact that my children were seriously spending way too much time with on-line gaming, chatrooms and instant messaging but that most of the world seemed to be falling into the same groove. In fact, I spent much of the paper discussing the new "dysfunction" conjured up by the founder of Bulletin Board PsyCom.net and a member of the American Psychiatric Association, Ivan Goldberg. This new dysfunction was labeled "I.A.D." or "Internet Addiction Disorder" and was posted to his colleagues primarily as a joke. But the idea of it took off to bulletin boards across the country along with a seven-item questionnaire revealing the symptoms of the disorder… and the response from people believing they might be inflicted with the dysfunction was astounding.

I played the role of the armchair judge.

…And THEN What Happened?

My children are now living their lives, working, raising their own families… busy as ever. And though they both have a FaceBook and a MySpace page, a blog a piece and are still very computer savvy, it’s definitely not by any means their primary focus or major channel of social connection. In fact, occasionally they are off-line for days at a time. As opposed to me…

Perhaps they’ve just not yet realized the gift. Or maybe they take it for granted. Or better yet… I just raised my kids in the practice of moderacy. Yeah, I like that idea the best.

But I admit it. I definitely have I.A.D, if there even is such a thing. All I know is that there are very few things I do anymore in life (that I really love doing) that don’t involve the digital world in one way or another. I’m not sure how it happened, it just did. And it was very timely!... that is, my getting caught up in it all right around the time that my children were leaving home. Because one thing’s for sure… I’ve never had to experience the empty nest syndrome. In fact, it gets so busy around here in the evenings sometimes that I almost forget to cook dinner… or go to bed.

It started out quite innocently, on message boards, learning how to make paragraphs using HTML so that your thoughts wouldn’t end up being one big blob of nothingness. But then it moved rapidly on to the dreaded emoticon … and links… and then glorious images. And before I knew it, I was undeniably and uncontrollably hooked. And though I blame the 2nd runner up in Season Two’s American Idol competition for getting me started on all this, I realize he was just the catylyst.

Every addiction has one…

I would never have believed in the 50’s or 60’s or even in the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s that I’d ever be able stream a live cellcert or download high definition videos of concerts I was unable to attend. Or share videos from those that I could.

I also never would have imagined that some of the best friends in my life would reside in Nova Scotia, New Zealand, Toronto, Georgia, Arkansas and California and that I would be able to talk with them all on a daily basis (often at the same time) and even travel with them. And that they would ever come stay in my home and vice versa…. Or that I would meet up with friends that live just miles down the road from me, who I would never, ever have gotten to know otherwise.

And especially… I never would have dreamed that I’d ever run a website or even understand AT ALL how to do it. But now, somehow, I do.

I honestly don’t remember the last time I mailed a letter or a bill or figured my tax return or went shopping or did anything that I couldn’t do on-line, except for sleeping (though I guess I’ve probably done that too!) I even have the privledge, after 15 years, of working from home 2 days a week and logging into my corporate network. It’s just like being at work!... except for the fact that I get to stay in my pajamas. I do go to the grocery store from time to time, but like I said… I still usually forget to cook.

If I Still Lived Back Then…

Well, thankfully I don’t. But if I did, I’d probably be writing this in long hand. I’m pretty sure of that. Or most likely I wouldn’t even be going to school at all and I wouldn’t have any inkling of what was to come so I probably wouldn’t be writing this anyway.

For sure I wouldn’t have discovered my passion, which is creating beautiful things from music and images, video… light… sounds and et al!

I’d probably be doing the same exact job I’m doing right now, however, doing it at a much slower pace. If I were even working at all. So yeah, sometimes, like at 6 a.m. every morning, I sort of wish I still lived in the 50’s and could just get up and make pancakes for my family or somethin'...

Would I rather live then or now? The quieter, less stressful times? There was just something so special about that. But having a world at your fingertips with the wiggle of a few of them is awesome as well. So please don’t make me choose! I just feel so lucky to be among the small percentage of the earths population who have been able to experience both.

Yet still, I sometimes sort of miss the the frog sounds…and most of the time still prefer that memory to all the current, incessant cellphone yacking.

Yes, if I could point out one downside of this new and wonderful world of incredible technology, it would most definitely be THAT.

~~~

Oh Daddy-O!...

2009-01-31T20:25:00.000-08:00

So in case I failed to mention this earlier, I'm taking my cues from a book my daughter gave me for Christmas a few years ago. Or maybe I bought it for myself and just asked her to give it to me. I really can't remember. But it's called "Reflections from a Mother's Heart.. Your Life Story in Your Own Words." And since I don't really remember how to cursive very well any more, I've decided to type it.

I'm trying to follow the entry topics pretty much as intended and just changing them up a bit every once in a while so that they apply.

And so this next one asks.. Where did your father go to work everyday and what did he do?

Ok, I think I can answer that one pretty easily.

I have no idea.

Seriously.

I know that he worked for NCR (National Cash Register) and that he always had these boxes of little metal thingies in his office and in the garage (which I suppose equated to some huge technological devices back in the day.) But honestly? Other than that... No clue.

I remember one time in elementary school when my one of my teachers asked us this very same question. And I simply couldn't answer it. And I was so confused as to why she would expect anyone to actually know that.

I do remember that he travelled a lot and that one of our Sunday night activities included sitting down as a family and watching slide show presentations of his travels. I can still remember the "click click" of the slides changing and how I thought the slide show canvas that he'd set into the living room and pull up was very, very cool. I don't remember any of the actual pictures themselves.

But some of the memories of my dad that I DO have were, first, him taking a belt to me whenever I did something naughty. And I think that's so sad that that always has to be the first thing I remember when I think about him! But perhaps those were just the 60's, and it was fairly common then, so perhaps everyone my age has those memories.

But here are some happier ones:

How he would tell us a joke and how his laughter was always so infectious.
The time he tried to improve our weekly artichoke meal by stuffing it with hamburger.
Him taking my mom and my younger sibling on a surprise vacation to a motel on the beach... even though we didn't leave for it until 2 in the morning and returned right after breakfast the next morning.
The fact that I think he actually attended most of my dance recitals and immortalized every one of them on reel to reel.
And that I don't believe he ever missed a one of my truly important celebrations or proud moments and was proud as well.

I just feel sad that I was never able to get to know him better. There was just a problem connecting. Of course we got closer as I got older and our ages merged slightly and for the last several years of his life I actually had a chance to spend quite a bit of time with him. He also got to meet my children and he loved them too.

My dad passed away of cancer in August of 1994, on my younger sister's birthday.

There are just SO many things about my dad that I will never, ever know yet I believe there must have been so many wonderful facets to him that were way beyond my perception at the time. For one, that he really wanted to love and commit to something.. but he just didn't know how. And I also believe that he knew who he was and wanted in his heart of hearts to be able to share. But I know that he had a tough childhood... way tougher than mine could have ever imagined being (and which was overall extremely blessed.) So I'm going to give him that. And also a high five for effort.

My mom recently shared with me a whole bunch of pictures of him though. And I just love having them!

Here he is on a pony as a kid.

High School Graduation.

College Graduation from USC in Business Administration.

Once a drummer in a dance band!

He enlisted in the Navy at age 19 and served as a radio man on an aircraft carrier during World War II.

And this is where my history gets all messed up... World War II or Korean War, I have no idea... but I just really love these next few pictures!

On a ship somewhere...

On a rickshaw...

Relaxing with a friend...

Outside a Naval Hospital in Yakasuka...

Caught writing a letter to mom...

He always loved that camera!

Anyway... I think my dad was an extremely handsome and genuine man. I can completely understand why my mother was so taken by him. And I want to believe they (and we) had at least a couple of really good years together.

Our first family pic...

Visiting the Grand Canyon...

Sailing with his girls...

In 1984, after a long period of seperation and a finally a divorce, my dad eventually married Peggy Jeffries who was a wonderful woman and I feel a really good match for him. And I believe he was able to find some comfort and comaraderie during those last ten years of his life.

I'm just so happy he was able to stick around long enough to meet his grandchildren.

Regrets? Well, there are more than many. But one of them is that I don't think I even have a picture of just me and my dad... together... all alone.

Wait! I just found one...

Another blog about dads...

My Favorite Childhood Pastimes...

2009-01-03T15:00:00.000-08:00

I think there were several...

But organizing talent shows in my garage was probably right up there on top.

And when I think about it... What mom would want to spend her entire Saturday off having recital costumes slung all over her kitchen table and having kids running in and out of the door all day making quick changes? But somehow, she seemed to be okay with it. Oh and also... I think my mom was usually pretty much our only audience...

We also had a little metal trough over on the west side of our house where we housed frogs. And they would spawn tadpoles from time to time... so I remember spending alot of my time over there too.

And then there was back in the day, when we weren't so fearful of going out into the world... and even spending the whole day out there. There were fields and hills and trails to explore, which of course we did.

Imagine having a field of grass right across the street that had grown so tall that you could literally get lost in it for a whole afternoon. (To be precise, it was right across the street from my babysitter's, which was still pretty much like home.)

And we didn't have the internet... or video games back in those days. But we would play kick-ball in the vacant lot until the sun went down like a big orange ball that looked surprisingly like... the big orange ball we'd just been playing with.

But most surprising memory of all is how I use to zoom at hyper-speeds down the hills of my town on my bicycle without any care in the world at all. Pretty strange and funny when I think about it now, given all my abandon on the highways...

My Childhood Home...

2009-01-03T08:40:00.000-08:00

My parents tell me that we lived in a rented house on Baldwin Avenue in Rosemead, CA until I was around 18 months old. Of course I have no recollection of this so I'm not sure why I think my own children should remember the first places THEY lived... just because I do. Thank goodness for pictures. Here are a couple of me and my sister Carol both inside and outside of that house I am told that we lived in.

So for all intents and purposes, my first and only childhood home was on Lawnwood Street in LaPuente, California. A one level, three bedroom, one and a half bath little slice of heaven for my parents... and for me and my sisters, the center of the universe. Of course I've moved up and down in the world and had exactly eighteen other centers of the universe since then. But that's another blog... or eighteen.

Since the home we bought was brand new we were pretty much starting from scratch and so my dad, of course, had to whip the yard into shape.

I just love these memories of my dad! I only wish I could remember them...

Here's a picture taken of me while the grass was seeding...
Nothing but mud...
And another one once the lawn (and lampost) were in... I loved trying to climb that lampost, it was as tall as the Washington Monument to me!
Finally... a virtual oasis...

Anyway... a complete pictorial tour of my house could probably go on for ever so I'll just give you the quicky version.

Our kitchen tabletop looked pretty much like this... with a vinyl wrap around seating booth for eating... which is pretty much the only place we ever ate... or ever did anything. So I'm completely surprised that I don't have a real picture.

The kitchen floor was dark red with multicolored confetti-like speckles in it. It must have hid all the dirt for sure! I never realized at the time how very cool it all was.

And keeping within the bounds of the overall color scheme, our living room decor was just as tasteful...

**Note the tasteful way of positioning the feet for photoshoots... because, yes, we DID attend "Charm School." We even learned how to hold our umbrellas properly... it was important.

I digress...

But seriously... I loved my home. It was a haven for me and it was everything a child could have ever thought they wanted or needed. In fact I wish, if it were at all possible, to be able to back there someday and do a "walkthrough." Even though I did do a "driveby" about twenty years ago and well, the neighborhood is now pretty, extremely scary...

Isn't it funny how everything in life manages to change around us but our memories always remain the same?

I forgot to show you my old bedroom... with the lovely chenile bedspread and awesome wraparound overhead cabinets and bulletin board.

...or my backyard. Believe it or not, I had a lot of fun out there! And over the years it proved to be the backdrop for a ton of priceless photo ops.

My Name...

2008-12-27T12:39:00.000-08:00

Wow! It's been a year of Saturday Evenings since I've been in here. But it's dawning on a new year. Resolutions?

So the next thing on my list to discuss is "My Name." Yes it's Jannet and has been for years and years and years. Hasn't ALWAYS been though and my mom either continuously reminds me of that.. or forgets.

OK... truth be told...I was born Janet. Actually Janet Lynn which both of my grandma's always called me.

My given last name was Horsley. I don't think it was until I was about 2 that I realized that the name was a bit different. But here's the story about that...

My dad's mom remarried a man by the last name of Horsley (waves to grandpa) after his real dad ran off (or so I'm told.) A while after she passed away he remarried (waves to grandma) and at the adoption hearing the courts gave him the choice of taking on his step-father's last name or his real father's name which was Lamoreaux. Actually, they just asked the young child which animal he liked better... lambs or horses. So there you go...

After I found that out I did practice signing my autograph for quite a while as... Janet Lamoreaux... but it just always felt so fake, ya know?

But then, one day when I was about 15, I decided to add an extra "n" to my name and it just really felt right! Of course mom told me I'd have to go to the courts and have it legally changed and all that... but I never did. And have still, somehow managed to get it spelled "correctly" on all my legal documents from then on, etc, etc.

Yes... I HAVE changed my name a couple of times since then yet again. But only the last name. Married twice, ya know.

Perhaps someday... like maybe when I die or something... I'll wish I had done it all legally afterall. But I've never had a problem with it. Not even with the border gestapos. And so I guess that says alot.

Anyway, so for now and most likely forever going forward... I'm Jannet, I guess. Cause that's just who I am and who I know.

My First Official Memory...

2007-11-03T16:43:00.000-07:00

...was one of staring up into a very bright light. I didn't understand what it might have been until many years later after being told about my little mishap.

Energine fabric cleaner is some really strong stuff. And it's probably great at cleaning fabrics but it's not really meant to be ingested. However, we just aren't programmed to KNOW that when we're... two.

(Or even sixteen sometimes!... as if I hadn't learned my lesson well enough when I went and took another whiff of it just out of curiosity.. and well, let's just say folks... "Please do not keep this stuff around your house, ok?" There's a product on the market called "Easy Wash" that I swear works just as well.)

Given that, it was my first cognizent memory anyway.

However...

There have been times in my life when this feeling has come over me that I couldn't quite explain. Couldn't quite put my finger on why it felt so... familiar, yet it did. And it always made me imagine of what a Q-tip must feel like... that is if a Q-tip can actually feel anything... but the gist of it is that it just felt as if I were being encased by something very soft and squooshy-like or maybe even like being constricted in a wetsuit. And when that feeling would come over me, I swear... I would literally be able to sit there for five minutes without even needing to breath. I timed it once.

Of course the feeling has happened less and less as I've gotten older and now that I'm REALLY OLD it hardly ever happens at all. But I can still remember what it felt like. The womb revisited maybe? The birth canal perhaps? I'm really not sure but the experience has always given me pause to think.

(Call me crazy if you will, but I certainly can't be alone in this. Can I?)

This is me, at around six months... or so. "Bright eyed and bushy tailed" as the saying goes.

I have no official memory of this moment...