HAVE YOU BEEN TO A BASEBALL GAME LATELY?

By

GERRY NISKERN

When he first started coming to our house to spend the night the baseball game could start before bedtime. Our living room was Niskern Field. The bases were all the sofa pillows and the Nerf ball and bat were required equipment. He could imitate all the pitchers on the Diamond Backs. And he had the batting stance of the other players down pretty good too.  When the game was finally called for night time,  it was  understood that it would continue bright and early the next morning.

His great-grandpa was the pitcher and I was the catcher, and of course, he was the constant batter. We never even got a turn. These games started when he was around three and have never stopped.

He was signed up for a pee wee team when he was three and his parent’s job was just beginning. They are the ones that drove him to practice and coached in the early years. His dad helped prepare many fields before the games. His mother manned the refrestment stands or brought the team snacks. They spent mega bucks on ball clubs over the years and traveled out of state to many games. He had an opportunity to  play and improve year after year.

His mother used enough bleach to easily fill the Grand Canyon keeping the white uniforms clean and ready for each game. She also had to keep an eye out for the younger sister playing behind the bleachers, except when she was raiding mom’s purse for money for the snack stand.

He played two years for the Pumas of Paradise Valley College. He is a great hitter, terrific third baseman and relief pitcher. He went on to play for Arkansas, and will graduate this year, but due to the Pandemic affecting the baseball season, he has another year of eligibility to show his stuff.

I’ve probably seen him playing for the last time. And I will miss that but hey, he’s following his dream that started all those years ago and hasn’t faltered!

GO AHEAD, HUG THE KID!

By

Gerry Niskern

All my fellow grandparent friends are saying the same thing. “When I finally received my shot I felt like a dark cloud had been lifted off me!”

Everyone of them went on the say,  “I feel like I’ve lost an entire year. Big chunks of life are gone forever. Babies have grown into toddlers. Birthdays and Christmas has come and gone without the family being together. Important graduations have been missed.”

All my sentiments exactly. I wake up in the morning now and think, ‘One more shot in two weeks and then I can socialize again.’ It’s a wonderful feeling. I think, like many friends, I had just kind of shut down my emotions. It didn’t do any good to complain about the masks, distancing, and just not seeing people “up close and personal.”

Most of all, I’m grateful. I’m grateful for the three vaccines that have been made available thru the diligent work of scientists. I’ve had other vaccines in my lifetime, starting with the one required before I could enter first grade. That one left a big scar!

My kids had all the vaccines required for newborns and boosters later. The Salk polio vaccine was a welcome one for sure. Back then, if your child ran a fever and the doctor couldn’t diagnose it right away, the overwhelming fear was polio.  We’ve all had many vaccines and took them for granted, but this one was different. We had to wait for it to be developed and then wait again for it to be available.

My first thought this morning was, ‘Easter is coming!’ I can actually look forward to a family holiday again. I can see the entire family,  even part of the family that I haven’t been able see for months.  I can visit my favorite coffee place, have a friend over or meet them for lunch.

When I see everyone, I’ll be smiling and I look forward to the day happy smiles can be seen again.

And yes, you can go ahead and hug that grandkid!

“Getting to Know You”

By

Gerry Niskern

Just as I was finally adjusting to life alone, the Pandemic hit. In the early days of Coronavirus 19 I learned to live with “sheltering in” and isolating from everyone. I envied those who was able to get out and go biking, hiking or many other out door activities. Being inside so much was really frustrating.

The health risks, loss of job and political ruin for the country itself seemed without end. But this new way of living also  brought many acts of kindness. Friends called to ask if I needed masks or gloves. A good neighbor had already brought some.

I had phone calls that kept my spirits up. My Grandson called almost every morning just to say hi on his way to  his first job. The good neighbor called every evening before bedtime. However the sight/presence of real live people was what I desperately craved.

And that’s when my two sons came thru for me. One had recently retired and his wife worked from home so they were able to totally isolate. The other son was furloughed from his job and he kept isolated also. One came over in midweek and the other came on the weekend.

I soon began to realize that this pandemic was a gift in disguise! Suddenly both sons  had time,  precious time, unexpected time. Politics dominated for a while. But then our long talks drifted to explore family history and stories. Facts were cleared up about who lived when and where. We talked about food. The  kind that I made when they were kids and the kind that Grandma made, and what out favorite was.

Two hours drifted into three and sometimes four. We covered world events, our different philosophies  about mankind and human behavior. I answered many questions about my and their dad’s childhood, courtship and early marriage.

One son and his wife invited me for dinner occasionally and I was free to go because they had been isolated. It was a welcome break to be in another home.

The other son brought lunch on the weekend and played a board game with me because he knew how much I missed playing games with friends.

Our family always had large gatherings at Christmas, Thanksgiving and other holidays and lots of fun catching up on the news. But quick, short chats were more the norm and  never really knowing much about individuals lives was not satisfying. Then suddenly, the pandemic hit, and  we had unexpected time. Lots of time.

I’m grateful I was  given this chance to know the men my two sons had become.

Game of Life

By

Gerry Niskern

.           I played my first board game, Monopoly, when I was about eight. I loved it!  I used to set my little thimble (why I always chose the thimble I don’t know) at the starting point and vowed to end up with all the property and money too. I admit it, I do like to win. I guess that trait runs in the family, because one of my grandsons used to last in a Monopoly game only until someone else landed on Boardwalk and he didn’t have a chance to buy it. The board would soar into the air and the all the hotels and little houses took flight as he stomped from the room.

Of course, we played board games with our kids when they were little and then the weekend sleepovers of the grandkids were two day game marathons.

In the mean time, we were getting together often with other couples and playing  Trivia Pursuit, Taboo, 25 Words of Less, Pictionary, Telestrations, Catch Phrase, and the list goes on and on. We had one friend that bought new games as often as I did, but if her team didn’t win the newest game, she would invariably remark,”I don’t care for that new game.” And we never played it again!

Games at family gatherings three or four times a year were fun, but not often enough. Then sadly, we lost old friends the game players, one by one, but Ken and I still played Scrabble and Quiddler together and then suddenly, he was gone.

My good neighbor and two grandkids played Trivia Crack on my phone with me for a while, but life was pretty dull without a game once in a while.

Then someone told me about the Meetup groups that played board games. I signed up and played games with friendly players and then later played Trivia with another group of great again.

Then along came Covid 19. Since the Pandemic there has been no gatherings of family or friends to play a good board game. I can’t wait for everyone to be vaccinated so I can get back to winning some challenging games!

“Turn back the Clock, I think not!”

By

Gerry Niskern

Every day or so Facebook runs a post called, “Do You Remember?” Last week they ran a photo of a kitchen from the 50’s era featuring the pregnant mother baking a pie with the happy child helping. There was a cloth covered table, canisters on the shelf and a wringer washing  machine in the tiny kitchen.

Thousands of responders replied wishing that we could “ turn back the clock “to those wonderful good old days.

GOOD OLD DAYS! Were they kidding? I had one of those  wicked, wringer washing machines. What the picture neglected to show was the two rinse tubs that went with the laundry job back in those days. After rinsing the clothes (or diapers, but that’s another depressing story),  then the clothes had to be put thru the wringer, all the while, hoping not  lose a  finger. (sometimes it was a crushed arm)

Of course, next came the fun part, lugging the heavy basket full  of wet clothes out and handing them on the line in the yard. If the line became too  heavy there was a post to lift the line a little higher.

The majority of today’s young mothers have access to great washer and dryers, not to mention many other household appliances that should make their  life easier. And it would, but what young mothers also have are full time jobs. It takes two salaries in today’s world.

As it turns out, since the beginning of the Pandemic a large part of the employed moms are working at home. That would be good except for the fact that the kids are attending “school at home” on their computers too. I know one young mother who is also a teacher, teaching her class from one room while her two boys are supposed to  be doing their classwork online in another room. Talk about juggling!

So, there are lots of good things to remember about the “Good old days”, but hooray for all the new labor saving devices developed since the 50’s. Today’s moms deserve every one of them; and the dads kind of like them too!

“Through a Writer’s eyes”

By

Gerry Niskern

I watched a good documentary recently titled “Let’s Pretend it’s a City”. The story featured the author Fran Lebowitz as she walked about New York and narrated her unique style of social commentary. I was interested in the city and the history of her life there, but the thing I found most interesting was her words of wisdom on reading. I  absolutely loved one statement of Fran’s. “When you learn to read, you are rich!” she declared.

I couldn’t agree more. I remember when I was a little kid and we would drive by a certain  building while in town. Someone would always say, “There’s the library.”  I was fascinated with the idea that there were “books” in that place. Then when we moved to Phoenix when I was ten and I learned that I could walk to the Phoenix Carnegie Public library alone and check out as many books as I could carry home. I  was in heaven.

The majority of kids are in a TV bubble now days. They learn to read in kindergarten because its required, but so many don’t fall in love with reading books. They don’t realize that reading all types of books helps them understand the world we live in. Books helps them communicate, stimulates their imagination. As a reader they are not bound by what the film maker show them a character to be, they can imagine whatever they want them to look like.

It is tough to think about, but in our country in the l800’s states were still passing laws  forbidding anyone to teach free African Americans to read or write. And actually as recently as the early l900’s the public libraries only allowed men to use and borrow books. Usually a room was set aside for the ladies to read, not borrow, some magazines.

The love of books runs deep in our family. One of my greatest joys has always been sharing books with the toddlers, and then continuing to share volumes with book worms in the family. I’ve used the library but loved the idea of owning my own. My book case never gets to overflowing because I always seem to be giving them away too!

The libraries were closed during the first months of the pandemic, and now it’s only drive -up, but friends of shared a lot. The love of reading has gotten many through the long months of Covid 19

And yes, we were indeed rich!.

“My Capitol”

By

Gerry Niskern

“Be very quiet” my dad whispered as our family took their seats in the United States Senate visitors gallery in the U.S. Capitol.  The year was l940, summertime.

Our senators were debating about passing the Selective Service Act. It was a controversial time as many of their constituents were against drafting our young men, but everyone knew we would probably soon be drawn into the war in Europe.

We left the Capitol through a tunnel, riding in some kind of a small powered vehicle, compliments of one of our congressmen from West Virginia. I don’t remember the details on that ride, but I vividly remember the rest of that summer trip to Washington, D. C.

My parents were planning to move to Arizona the next year and I recall my dad saying, “The girls may never get back this way again in their lifetime and we need to see to it that they see our nations capitol.” Back in those days people didn’t travel as frequently as now. ( The added bonus for me was always being the only student in class in Arizona to raise their hand when the teacher asked, “Has anyone seen the U. S. Capitol?”)

Of course, the first icon we spotted as we approached the city was that sacred, beautiful building, the Capitol. The  building that sits higher then everything. We each had our favorite place in the city. My sister loved the Washington monument because we got to climb the stairs to the top.

Mom loved the Lincoln memorial. The statue of Lincoln sitting there was breathtaking. It invoked a feeling of reverence and also, peace. The Jefferson memorial was just being constructed and we viewed it from a distance across a body of water.

We saw the White House, but I don’t remember visiting the inside, although we did tour George Washington’s home, Mount Vernon. We also enjoyed the Smithsonian. My dad loved getting to see Charles Lindbergh’s plane, The Spirit of St. Louis, handing over our heads.

Dad also wanted to take mom to see the Senators play. She loved sports as much as him. They had never seen a major league game before.  My sister was 12 and I was nine and we were on our own while they attended the game. There was a beautiful park nearby, and I think a zoo where we spent the day on our own in that wonderful city.

We left the next day. As we drove away I watched thru the rear view mirror as my favorite, the Capitol  building, faded in the distance.

Now, ten days ago, all these many  years later, I watched in horror and grief as our country was violated. Acts of violence were committed by Americans in the same marble hallways where we had walked. The peaceful transfer of power was stopped by  rioters incited by lies and untruths spread by the President and his enablers.

There is much work to be done by every citizen. Through discussions and solutions we need to learn respect for one another’s beliefs. Because our Democracy Is strong, On January 20^th there will be a lawful transfer of power in front of the capitol; your capitol  and mine!

“NOT WORTH A PENNY!”

When I think of coins, for some reason, I think of pennies first. You know, the pesky little coin that weighs down your purse, fills up your car console and that you tell the cashier to just keep.

Our government is talking seriously again of doing away with the penny. I, for one, think it’s a great idea.

The first “ copper”  I remember was the one I clutched tightly in my sweaty hand as I leaned against the candy counter while my mother did her weekly grocery shopping. I agonized over the candy corn, Hershey kisses and marshmallow bananas. Then again, I loved to get a pack of candy cigarettes. The cigarettes were cloyingly sweet, but how sophisticated I would be taking long draws and puffing in the back seat on the way home. Maybe I’d even blow a few smoke rings.

Later, around aged ten, that coin became more important and a source of humiliation.  When I was sent to the store with a dime for a loaf of bread that cost ten cents and a penny tax that made the total eleven, I knew I was in trouble. I would tell my mother, “Mom, the lady always says eleven cents”. She would simply say “No, you tell her it’s a sin to tax the daily bread”. And then she usually added, “After all, right is right”. I begged for that penny so I wouldn’t be embarrassed by the A. J. Bayless clerk. But my mother instructed,   “Just say, I’m sorry, my mother didn’t give me a penny for tax”

Years later I boarded a city bus carrying my chubby daughter and a heavy grocery sack full of pennies. The slow walk up Central Avenue in heels (because you always wore high heels when you went downtown), lugging the pennies and dragging the one year old to the bank was not easy. I remember it was summer and she kept trying to walk behind me in my shadow which made for really slow going.  I hated those pennies.

Her grandparents had given her a penny piggy bank at birth and filled it up over the year. I doubt that many kids get very excited over piggy banks nowdays.

Since the banks were only open during the week, I was expected to take her and her fortune to open a savings account in her name. It was some kind of family tradition, I guess. Anyway, again I was doing what everyone expected me to do but I was not too impressed with this ritual.

When the bus swished to a stop for our trip home all I had to do was hoist the husky

little girl clutching her savings book up the steps and sink gratefully into a soft seat for the ride home.

I say, get rid of those pennies.

By

Gerry Niskern

She goes by every day, sometimes twice. She’s about three months old and travels by stroller, escorted sometimes by siblings on scooters.

If I’m lucky enough to be out at the time her mother stops for a minute and  I’m rewarded with a perfect angels smile punctuated by two big dimples. “Can I touch her?” I asked. Her little bare foot felt like the finest silk. She was plump and perfect, but wait! When she realized her chariot wasn’t moving the angelic face turned into a cry.

Her grin brightens my day, but then I started thinking about something. With everyone wearing a mask babies don’t realize that you are looking kindly or smiling at them. You see, everyone knows that babies experience love and delight thru facial expressions.  Many articles have been written about babies having issues with emotional recognition and social interaction. I hope my new little friend sees my eyes smiling at her.

But smiling eyes are not just important for the many new babies this year.We have a brand new year starting today and we can all help make it a more pleasant and optimistic one.

Sure we will all still be wearing our masks for quite a while longer, but let’s stop complaining and make sure the eyes that people see above are smiling eyes.

What’s in Your Treasury?

By

Gerry Niskern

Everyone is concerned that their Christmas won’t be good this year. They want to be with their closest loved ones and Covid 19 is keeping that from happening.

Yes, it is, but most people have a treasure trove of memories that they can dig down into. If they try hard, they can find bits and pieces of wonderful Christmases past. I think it can carry them thru this frustrating time, if they try.

I’ll share some of mine. How about you?

The snow flakes were hitting against the windshield and fanning out in swirling perfect circles. I had never seen them put on that  display before, but then I had never been allowed to sit up front between my mom and dad before either. You see, I had on a little green fairy costume instead of my warm snow suit so they decided I needed to sit up by them and the heater. We were on our way to  our little country school and I was going to be in the first grade Christmas program. The snow was coming down hard, but the show must go on! I’ll never forget those magical snowflakes!

Mom and dad both grew up in families that didn’t have the luxury of Santa Claus. My mother was one of thirteen children and Christmas in that Orthodox Catholic family consisted of church services in the morning AND the afternoon. The adults sat on benches on the front and the children stood  in the back. That was followed by a special Christmas dinner.

My dad’s mother raised eight children on her own and had no money for Santa either.

So when my sister and I came along, my parents loved going all out for our celebration. They put up a big tree after we went to bed and decorated  it then. We always thought Santa brought it! They made sure Santa left lot of presents under that tree too. One special memory that I recall was a small Cedar chest that my dad gave my mom, and it was filled with chocolates! Then he surprised each of us with a miniature version of Mom’s chest, full of chocolates too. Somehow, that gift, exactly like our mother’s made me feel very special, a good incentive for little girls.

The frozen snow always crunched like popcorn as we hurried up the sidewalk to the sagging, old kitchen porch at my grandma;s house. The sound of love and laughter pulled us in. Of course, we didn’t expect present at that Christmas on January 6^th, but there was something much better; a house full of cousins!

How about you? Can you dredge up some good times to carry you thru this year?