THE DAISES WERE EVERYWHERE!

By

Gerry Niskern

The other day, as I parked in front of my favorite coffee place, I saw them; the “Dreaded Girl Scout Cookies!”

Every February the Girl Scouts invade the neighborhood. I believe the little tricksters are there for only one reason, to sabotage my New Year’s diet.

I’m always torn, especially,  when the little kids, the Daises, approach me. Well, of course, I want to support the girls and besides I’d  heard that the Thin Mints are even better this year.

I asked for a box of Thin Mints and handed the lass a ten dollar bill. She gave me the carton of treats and just stood there with an angelic smile. I waited for my change, but she just kept smiling at me. “Oh, okay,” I said. “I’ll take another box.” I don’t know which badge she was earning, but I’d give her a special one for high pressure salesmanship.

You see, I have a special spot in my heart for the Girls. When I was in the fifth grade at Jackson School, a Girl Scout troop was formed; called troop # Eleven. Yes! We were the llth troop in the whole Phoenix area. Our leaders name was Miss Curlee, a second grade teacher. I’m sure the poor lady got the short straw, but lucky for us, she was young and pretty. All the other teachers looked to be over 100 to this fifth grader. Our dues were 2 cents per week.

My main Christmas present that year was a Girl Scout uniform. They cost a whopping three dollars.  And since I was lucky enough to have one first, I got to represent our troop in the annual Rodeo Parade that year. We all stood on a wagon trying to keep our balance on a very bumpy ride down Central Avenue.

I enjoyed all the scouting experiences, but the thing that I was most excited about and truthfully I’ll admit now, my main reason for joining was that I was going to get to sell cookies door to door. They were plain vanilla, with the Girl Scout emblem on the top.

When I took my boxes home and my mother heard the price, (25 cents), she said, “Absolutely not! I wouldn’t think of letting you ask the neighbors to buy a box of cookies for 25 cents when they can buy the same for ten cents at the grocery store”

In those days, that was that. CASE CLOSED!

Sure you can find less expensive cookies, but that’s not the point, is it? Why not support the organization that develops girls of courage, confidence and character worldwide? The Girl Scouts don’t ask for donations. They get out and hustle.

The girls promise “to help other people at all time:, and THAT YOU WILL LOVE THEIR COOKIES!

Necessary Nuisance

By

Gerry Niskern

She arrived about a few years ago. I was happy to have her, but apprehensive and unsure on how to deal with this new little thing. I was dismayed to learn that I had to carry the demanding scamp with me all the time!

You see, I had already banished her older, lazy, cumbersome siblings because they said she was all I would need.  She’s really smart too, they also assured me.  I really didn’t mind carrying her all the time, but I wish she could fit easily into my jeans pocket. When I had no pockets at all to put her in, it was especially annoying.

If she’s in my purse, I think she intentionally whispers so I won’t hear her, but if I’m in a quiet place, she shrieks at the top of her voice. She is also very stubborn and sensitive. If I barely touch her she will do exactly the opposite of the thing I’ve asked her to do.  Most frustrating of all is just when she is about to earn her keep and cough up some valuable information, she decides she is tired and needs to rest and recharge.

The truth is, it turns out she really is smart and I’ve been able to train her to my schedule. I will keep carrying her because now I couldn’t live without her!

“Have you seen any good scorpions lately?”

By

Gerry Niskern

I wrote this column awhile back, but I have an update. I speak from experience now on the subject of scorpion bites. I was stung on my foot in the middle of Wednesday night. It felt like a thousand tiny knives radiating up my leg. Called poison control and followed their instructions, but the symptoms grew steadily worse over the next 24 hours. My foot swelled up to twice its size. My head felt like it was in a vice and my face and lips were numb. I also suffered severe diarrhea. Finally, after about 36 hours the numbness and tingling in my fingers stopped and just my foot is still swollen. Good Samaritan poison control called back twice to check on me and I was surprised and thankful. Read on.

Are you new to our valley? How well do you know your neighbors? Have you met any of our resident scorpions yet?  The swift venomous arthropods are everywhere.

When you live in the desert, you have invaded their territory; especially when you dwell in an area where the ground has been disturbed for new housing construction and their nests are stirred up. The stinger is at the end of the tail; the sting site can be extremely painful. It generally does not swell, but there is instantaneous pain and numbness. Young kids and seniors are most at risk.

Almost everyone has a scorpion story.  I saw my first scorpion years ago. It was a rather large one, on the wall above a sleeping newborn’s crib. The proud parents had invited us in to see their infant, and there on the wall was the culprit. What a lucky intervention that was.

We’ve had them quite often because we live in the Dreamy Draw area that is especially known for its scorpions. Our son gave us something handy to keep from stepping on one at night; plug in Limelites  that cast a faint glow on the floor, enough to throw a scorpion’s shadow to alert you.  I recommend getting one.

My resident historian took off his socks one night and surprise, there on the bottom of one sock was a squashed scorpion. He was lucky that time. It pays to shake out your shoes before putting them on. Sometimes you hear them first; they make a slight scratching sound on a hard surface.

Most pest control companies will tell you that you cannot kill them. Scorpions usually follow other bugs into a home. What actually can be done is to spray for their prey thereby eliminating the scorpions.

I remember walking into the kitchen one morning and seeing one on the telephone sitting on the counter. I came back with the flyswatter and to my amazement, I watched that tiny scorpion run down the wall, under the locked and what we thought was an airtight Arcadia door and out onto the patio. They can crawl through a credit card size slit.

Last year, we were at a friend’s new home in the Sun City area. She leaned down to pick up what she thought was a piece of dry grass from the carpet. Guess what, it stung her!  Her pain from that scorpion sting lasted several hours.

Another friend tells about the time when he was in high school and the family had just moved into a new home. He thought he saw a scorpion run under the refrigerator. Determined to get it, the high school boy got down on his hand and knees and looked under the frig. The little pirate dashed out and stung him on the nose!  Of course, the repercussions were serious from that sting.

According to the emergency room staff at John C. Lincoln, children under six and seniors are the only ones they normally to give antiserum for scorpion venom. It’s very hard on you. But unfortunately with children, if they are crying loudly, and it appears to be quite painful, they have to assume it’s probably a scorpion bite.

According to my research, there are 1,300 species of scorpions worldwide, and many varieties are non- poisonous. However, the poisonous ones live mainly in the Southwest Deserts. Watch out!. And put poison control on your phone contacts. 602 253 3334

OK, BOOMER!

By

Gerry Niskern

Let’s turn this “Ok, Boomer” put down around.

“Have you ever noticed that mothers, over the age of fifty in sitcoms, are depicted as sex starved maniacs. The older men fare even worse. And their counterparts in the flicks are only portrayed as worthwhile if they ended up with a Jay Lo or Scarlett Johansen  type.”

As depressing as all this is, I think you mothers, and fathers too, of the boomer generation, could easily turn this trend around. After all, your large body of consumers have redefined marketing in this country. I know you could do it again regarding television and movies. That’s where millions of our nation’s young people pick up their ideas on life.

Granted, some children in today’s society are lucky enough to know their grandparents as individuals. However, most kids never learn about the senior’s careers or their life experiences. In other words, a large percentage don’t see the elderly as real people. They only know the stereotypes they have been conditioned to laugh at in entertainment.

You could begin with your children and grandchildren.  Yes, some boomers have grandchildren already! We all know kids learn by example. They see your daily attitude towards the older members of your neighborhood. Do they see you communicating with older people on a person to person  basis, or talking down to them, as if to a child?

Do they hear you complaining about the white haired driver doing the speed limit and holding up traffic…while not saying a word about the twenty-something playing  thread the needle, well over the speed limit?

Our sense of stability and security has always been grounded in respect for families and our elders. In these times, with our mobile society, we need assurance that if you lay the groundwork, our kids and grandkids will have a different attitude towards anyone growing older.

And the added benefit will be…when the boomers progress from middle age into the pace maker years, they won’t be automatically assigned the “geezer”  roles created by the script doctors!

“Let the Writing Begin!”

By

Gerry Niskern

Have you ever thought about writing your memoir?

A small group of people gathered at the Acacia Library this week to begin writing theirs.

They are going to enjoy the excitement of describing their lives, the people in their lives and the events that they want others to know about. They will take their readers on an exciting ride as they detail their experience and thoughts.

This group will paint a picture of their lives by showing what characters, places and events were like. And they will all this with the wonderful world of words!

What can I say about words? First of all, thank you, thank you, thank you to the first people who learned to communicate with words. And then thank you again to the scholars who learned to write them down in various forms to be read by everyone.

This evolved over thousand of years, but to each one of us who discovered that some little squiggly lines in our first school books were actually words; and those words told a story, it was a miracle!

At least it was to me as a six year old first grader, in a little country school in West Virginia.  We were allowed to take our readers home and read the next chapter. Well, it’s hard to believe, but I was so thrilled with the story of Dick, Jane and Spot, that I finished the book.

The next day when I excitedly told Miss Mary Jane Crowe, my teacher, that I loved reading the whole book, I was soundly scolded for reading more than I was instructed. Looking back, I’m guessing that she didn’t have a lot of books for us to read and that reader was supposed to last quite a while.

Fortunately, that reprimand didn’t deter me from being an avid reader all my life. Later on, I carried stacks of books from the first Phoenix Library every week while growing up and continue to read everything I can.

I do have to say, though, that the only thing better than reading words,  is writing them to create a story!

“Burnishing the old resolution again”

By

Gerry Niskern

My New Year’s resolution is the same one I have made for years. I just get it out and polish it up again.

The trait that I do like and value in another person is the ability to speak exactly the same with whomever they are talking . I think the habit of speaking the same with the bosses wife, the friend of your child, your pastor, a toddler, an official is a habit that I have strived to practice.

A person full of grace does no change tone, facial expression or their smile as the occasion dictates. Anyone who has practiced this democratic approach to life conveys the concept that they value the recipient of their remarks for who they are; not someone younger, or of a different social class, or different sex, but just a fellow human being.

I always admire a person dealing with the public who addresses everyone in the same straight forward direct tone and manner. They don’t speak condescendingly to a child or “sweety, sweet” to a senior.

I will admit that when I observe a friend  changing their tone of voice or manner in speaking to a new acquaintance of different stature, I am very disappointed. There is something dishonest about that habit.

Somewhere along in my life, I don’t know when, I decided to strive to speak  to everyone the same. I hope I have succeeded this past year and hope to do the same this year.

Feel free to borrow my resolution. You might like it!

SPOON LICK’N GOOD!

By

Gerry Niskern

When you were a kid, did you call dibs on the spoon or the bowl when your mother was finishing up a sweet dessert? Nothing tastes as good as the tasty drops clinging to the beaters too.

My kids always loved that privilege, but so did the big kid in the house, their Dad. When they were all grown up and gone, and I was making something sweet, I could always count on him calling out, “anything to lick yet?”

The licking was good when Christmas timed rolled around and my mother started on her annual candy making. We watched as she cooked a boiling clear fondant to the right point, poured it onto a large platter and then beat it to a creamy,  white constancy. Sometimes she stuffed the fondant into large dates. But best was when she worked chopped Black walnuts into the mass and then made a long log and sliced it in pieces. Out of this world good!

But that was not all of her repertoire. She cooked chocolate fudge before the days of short cuts and her heavenly divinity was good licking too.

Of course, I made all of those for years, but one year I tried a new recipe out of the newspaper. It became a family favorite. Pralines. Not the traditional Southern kind that you buy in New Orleans, made with brown sugar and cream. No. My  new experiment was made with pecans,  buttermilk and white sugar. They are tricky because you have to cook the mixture to the “perfect” temperature, let it stand for just the right amount of minutes and then beat it hard and smooth. If you have judged everything right, you then quickly drop spoonfulls out on a flat surface. If you can start picking them up immediately. Success! And the best part for the pan lickers was than the mixture set up so quickly that there was a lot left in the pan.

Old habits are hard to break. I still find myself thinking, when I’ve finished with the beaters, “don’t rinse them. Someone will want to lick them!”

Have you licked any good bowls or spoons lately?

“All Second Generations”

By

Gerry Niskern

Does the topic of illegal immigration come up often in your conversations with friends? Everyone has an opinion. Build a higher wall. Pick them all up and deport them. Take back our jobs. Never mind that the majority of those jobs are work that on one else will do.

I have a young friend who constantly worried about illegal immigration too, because you see, she was brought to this country by her parents when she was five. She is a young mother and we often compare notes about her boys and my grand children. When hers wanted to Spiderman for Halloween, so did ours. When hers wanted a special video for Christmas, so did ours!

When her oldest started school he bragged that he was “the smartest kid in the class.” That was because he spoke Spanish and perfect English. He interpreted for the teacher. Her kids also told her about what they had learned about Thanksgiving and that they wanted her to cook a turkey like their friends were having.

She asked me to write out exactly what to buy and how to cook a Thanksgiving dinner. And at Christmas time she wanted make traditional Christmas cookies for her boys. I gave her my recipe and my cookie cutters too.

Later on, when I asked how her holidays had been, she laughed, telling me about how her whole family of brothers and sisters and their kids go to her mother’s tiny house on Christmas Eve and spend the night. And just as all off spring do, they love to tease their mother about how hard she was on them when they were growing up.

Turns out, her father had passed away and her mother worked two jobs every day. The older kids had to see to it that everyone was up on time. They had to be washed, fed and ready for school. She told us, “ My mother’s strict rule was that the house and yard had to be clean. She went straight from her morning job to her second job on the city bus.When she came home at night she expected chores and homework to be done and dinner started.

Over the years my young friend has continued on a tough work schedule waitressing and cleaning houses. She and her husband were eventually able to buy their own home. Her two sons are both in college and doing well.

Just like every Second Generation they have assimilated and become woven into the fabric of American life, just as all our grand and great-grandparents did decades ago.

If she were stopped for a traffic violation, could she be deported? Would the family be torn apart? Could you send them with no regrets?

I couldn’t.

“Give Them the Love of Reading “

By

Gerry Niskern

When our family moved to Phoenix in the summer of l942, I was overjoyed to learn that we were only about ten blocks from the Phoenix Carnegie Library on West Washington. An easy walk for a kid back then, even loaded down with a staggering stack of books. And of course, among those volumes was “The Little House in the Big Woods”, the first of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House series.

Wilder’s first book was published in l942 and lucky for me, the Phoenix library carried it; and  all the rest of the mesmerizing stories of Wilder’s childhood as they were published.

Millions of young readers were enthralled with the true stories of the pioneer girl who survived blizzards and near-starvation on the Great Plains and the harshest experiences of homesteading families. She wrote about Indian attacks on the settlers, wolves stalking their cabin and swarms of Locasts that devoured their crops many times.

However, throughout all the Little House series, she told of her family’s love and devotion to each other. Her father’s violin music that entertained and entwined their family ties.

A new biography of Laura Ingalls Wilder was published this year called “Prairie Fires.” The author Caroline Fraser brings to life the unknown details of Wilder’s extraordinary life.

I knew My daughter had read the books, but I was surprised to learn that one of her brothers was familiar with the “Little House” sagas also. When I was describing the new Wilder bio, “Prairie Fires”, he said “my teacher read them to us in the second grade. I loved them.” He could have told me back then, but I guess seven year old boys don’t do that!

When my great-granddaughter was expected, my baby shower gift was a little boxed set of “Little House” books. I don’t know if she ever read them. I hope so.

My great-great-granddaughter is going on three and loves her books. I think she will be an early reader and guess what she will  receive for Christmas that year?

“THANKSGIVING ROULETTE”

By

Gerry Niskern

Do you have your genealogy research all done in time for your family’s Thanksgiving gathering? Due to Twenty-three and Me, Ancestory and a few more websites, everyone now has a chance to learn about their immigrant ancestors.

Of course, some went into the search with the expectation of find a distant Prussian General, or at least an English duke in the family tree! Most find out they are descendants of hard working immigrants who poured into America in the l800’s and early l900s. Those early relatives learned about Thanksgiving  Day gradually, as well as about the laws, taxes and social mores.

My own grandfather, from Austria, was recruited to come work in the coal mines in West Virginia. My mother often told of when she started to first grade grandpa had her sit with him at the kitchen table and help him learn  to  read the newspaper. He was very anxious to learn about our democracy and how the government worked.

Grandpa had served the required seven years in the army of Emperor Franz Joseph before he was allowed to come to the United States. My mother often told of how, as he learned to read English, he marveled at our freedoms allowed in our constitution. He reminded her siblings to be thankful they were growing up in a country where there was no King or Dictator.

And of course, Thanksgiving was celebrated, but my grandmother refused to buy a turkey when she had lots of chickens, and besides, she always declared, “You don’t just give thanks on one day, You are supposed to give thanks every day!”