Nonordinary Time
Saturday, February 17, 2024
CRABFEST
Thursday, February 15, 2024
Timing Is Everything Once In Awhile
Tuesday, January 30, 2024
The Old Wooden Wagon
Thursday, January 25, 2024
A Day At Gimbels, Long Ago
One day when I was about 12 or 13, my mother and I went to Gimbels in Philadelphia. I don’t remember the occasion, but I think it was around the Easter season, probably to buy me some clothes. There are several things about that day that boggle my mind when I think back to it.
The first is that we had lunch at Horn and Hardarts, which was a fascinating experience for a small town kid. Horn and Hardarts, for those of you who are not familiar with it, was a self-serve type of restaurant, where you chose what you wanted to eat from behind a series of glass compartments. Could be a sandwich or pie or any number of other lunch-type food. I certainly don’t remember what I had, but it was a kind of a forerunner to choosing your food at a WAWA, except that it was already made and there were no such things as a computer from which to make your selection.
The second thing was that my mother somehow got us there. Thinking of her in her later days with her anxiety and confusion states of mind, it is an amazing reality to think that she was once young and quite able to make such a thing happen. I believe we must have gone into Camden and taken the train across the Ben Franklin Bridge into center city. As best as I can recall, she was not the slightest bit intimidated by how to make it happen.
The third thing were the wooden escalators with their clickety-clack sounds taking you up to the second or third floors and beyond. Talk about stepping back in time, they still stand out in my mind as something that smacks of earlier days before I was born—like the days I would have witnessed in old-time movies of Charlie Chaplin or Laurel and Hardy at the Saturday matinees in Medford movies.
Then, the fourth and final thing of that day, was futuristic. We waited in line to enter a room that had one of the first colored televisions on display. I can still recall the excitement I felt, since at the time, such a thing seemed like a fantasy world. As little by little, step by step, we got closer, my anticipation grew, imagining the color being as vivid as on the screen of a movie theater. But then, once we were inside, great disappointment set in—not much reward for waiting in line for such a long time. At best, the picture on the TV could only be described as faintly tinted in pale reds and greens. We exited the room shaking our heads and saying, “Well, that certainly wasn’t worth it. We don’t need to get one of those.”
Now all of this probably sounds pretty incidental to you. And, it is of course. It makes me wonder, though. My mother lived to her mid-eighties and, by then, she had her bouts with anxiety and confusion, so it’s interesting to remember that, at one time, she was young and able to do things that, while not necessarily big and adventuresome, were nonetheless of a very competent and independent nature.
It’s good to consider the fact that a lot of elderly people we see everyday who seem to be struggling to make sense of life and seem helpless to function within the ordinary day-to-day world, were once young and alert and very able to keep pace with life.
Or maybe I’m just thinking about that since in February I turn 81.
Sunday, December 25, 2022
ONE MORE MEMORY THAT JUST POPPED INTO MY HEAD
I had a band when I was a teenager.It consisted of me on lead guitar and vocals, a backup guitar, a drummer, and a upright bass player. We played rock and roll, of course, and had gigs at high school dances, a gig in a hotel on the Atlantic City boardwalk before casinos were there, and various social events.
The one that I’m thinking of today, though, took place the week before Christmas, and it remains a special memory that changed the way I looked at my life and my view of life in general. The scene remains as vivid to me now as it ever has and I think about it almost every Christmas.
My father worked in a factory in Philadelphia and one of his co-workers asked him if he thought my band would be willing to play at a Christmas party for kids in an orphanage in Philadelphia. When we arrived, I was speechless because it was a classic old building that you might see in an old black and white movie from the 30’s or 40’s.
The sight of it made me nervous and uncomfortable because I had only heard about orphanages—had never seen one or, to some degree, thought they were mostly the stuff of fiction.
When we went inside, we were led into an auditorium decorated for the holidays with a giant Christmas tree in the center. It was very festive and the children of various ages seemed very excited that something special was going on their otherwise somewhat drab life (I was assuming that it was a drab existence, but I don’t know that for sure.)
So we set up in a corner of the auditorium, and when the children saw us do that, some of them treated us as if we “rock stars” since they had never had the experience of live music—especially of the rock and roll type. At first I was feeling like we were stars of some sort, but that soon faded as the afternoon wore on with other kinds of entertainment and festivities, not the least of which was the visit from Santa Claus.
Seeing the expression on the faces of all the children and realizing that, unlike me, they had no family with whom to share this otherwise joyful holiday, I was deeply moved by what I saw that day. I almost couldn’t conceive of such a life since I was from a happy home, lived in a nice house in a nice town, with two parents who loved and cared for me, and I even had my own room.
Yet they were all smiles and joyful, and seemed to appreciate one another in spite of their circumstances. Older children helped younger ones without being asked to do so. They just did it.
So we played our gig and they were so appreciative of our music and applauded and cheered us as if they were at a rock concert. I realized that they were the ones making us feel special in spite of all the flaws in our music. I did a few Rick Nelson songs and one of the kids came up to me whose face remains ever in my mind, and said, “You sound just like him.”
I knew that wasn’t true, but what I did know was that these kids were the ones who were special. I was just a lucky kid from Medford, New Jersey, who went there that day feeling uncomfortable and uncertain, but who was touched deeply by children who knew the meaning of love and being loved.
Thursday, December 22, 2022
THE AWAKENING AT CHURCH
It was a very moving Lessons and Carols service last Sunday at the church we are attending, The Presbyterian Church of Lawrenceville. I personally needed that for my spiritual well-being on this my 79th Christmas.
It wasn’t that I was in a funk or even anything close to that, but like so many people, I have been so preoccupied with the national and global news that I was wasting all my energy and emotions on things that I can’t do anything about except pray, which is, of course, sufficient in its own right.
The service included music that was enhanced by a combined choir and instrumentalists including brass, percussion, and piccolo. The Scriptures were beautifully read by various people including some young people. All was of such an inspiring quality that I felt myself being deeply touched by everything that was happening.
When it was over, there were multiple emotions stirring in my heart and mind, but by far what I was experiencing was renewed HOPE and a new vision of promise.
What I’m about to say may not have the same effect on you, but I share it with you for your consideration. It is simply this:
With all that’s going on in the world and in each of our personal lives, there is something that is invisible to us meager human beings, so caught up as we are with all that is happening around us, that is grander and more magnificent than we can even begin to imagine; and it has the power to comfort, to heal, and bring hope. It is beyond all time and circumstances that we find painfully overwhelming. It is all under the care of a Loving Spirit we call God.
Merry Christmas and Peace on Earth and in Your Hearts!