“Blast from the Past”

By

Gerry Niskern

Have you ever known a winter this cold in the Valley of the Sun?

Well, sure you’re laughing if you come from Colorado or Minnesota or parts East. Those of us who grew up here are finding it hard to take. Okay, I admit it, we’re a bunch of sissies.

If you grew up in the land of ice and snow, you probably had to wear those hated snowsuits as a kid. You knew they kept you warm because you mother said so.  Do you remember lining up so the poor teacher could help everyone get into their snow pants, boots and get all zipped up nicely before heading outside?

How many of you women as a little girl,  had one of those wool knitted caps that peaked at the top and tied under the chin, with balls on the ends? Do you remember building snowmen; sledding and making ice cream treats with snow, vanilla and sugar? And of course, worst of all, how it feels to get hit hard, right in the mouth with a speeding snowball during a fight.

Don’t even try to find a space heater this year. Everyone’s sold out. The heating and cooling companies are having a bonanza. When those heat pumps work overtime during a stretch of below freezing weather they ice up from overload. Ice forms and the only solution is to turn them completely off for a few hours. The incredulous response to that advice from repairmen is “You’ve got to be kidding!”

When my family moved to Phoenix when I was a kid, we thought we left the cold weather behind. Back then, however, without the Internet, information was not as readily available. My mother gave away all her wool blankets and quilts. She was told that the family wouldn’t need them in sunny Phoenix. Our home like most here had a screen-sleeping porch on the rear. They were set up for the hot months to catch a cool breeze. The porches had canvas flaps that could be let down for winter protection. Mom had to scramble to borrow warm blankets for the first cold night here.

We Phoenicians are used to turning our furnaces off at night. Kids are sent off to school with a light sweater, which they manage to shed or lose by 10 A. M. People are more likely to take a jacket with them here in the summer for the air conditioning at the movies.

After all, Phoenix is the city where the pre-schools truck in a load of snow from up north so the kids can experience the fun of building a snowman. They get to see what snow feels and tastes like and hopefully, not from a well placed snowball to the teeth.

In the meantime, this year our residents have had to scramble to find old towels and sheets to cover frost sensitive plants at night. We had to dig out our heavy coats if we can find them, and gloves for the morning commute.

Don’t be embarrassed if you’re all bundled up like the Abominable Snowman when you pass smug joggers in their skimpy shorts and tiny tee tops. Just remind yourself to wait until they’ve lived here a few years and their blood has thinned out too.

I actually bought a pair of earmuffs for my early morning walk. I love them. What I really want to know is where are those “dreaded ” snow pants when you really need them?

“Everyone can make an Ethical Will in 2015”

By

Gerry Niskern

I wrote about Ethical Wills once before, years ago. I believe the idea bears repeating for new generations of readers in this New Year. An Ethical Will is an opportunity for you to communicate your hopes and dreams for the future generations of your family. Your morals, regrets and yes, your opinions are all included.  They are usually written by people at a turning point in their lives.

An Ethical will  is not a legal document; rather it is a record of your nonrepresentational wealth. Although parents would like to see their children financially secure, they would also like to leave some philosophical provisions as well.

Think of the many phrases stated by your parents or grandparents that influenced you while growing up. One of my mother’s favorites comes to mind. “Be kind and respectful to the elderly, their life is hard.” When I would argue, “But, Mom, what if they’re crabby with me?” She always replied, “That doesn’t matter. We still respect the old.”

Then there was one of my grandmother’s admonishments, in her broken English. “Don’t go where you no belong.” Her advice still serves a purpose in our family. These examples are not exactly an ethical will, but certainly examples of the making of one.

Writing an Ethical Will does not require enormous education or wisdom. It’s what you have to give of yourself.  Every will is as unique as the person writing it, but there are common themes. Personal values are important, as well as “life’s lessons learned.” Families are mentioned often. “Take care of the family. Value the family.”  Many give instructions on how to maintain the strength of the family.

If you need help getting started, start keeping a journal. Over a period of time themes will emerge that you can use in drafting your ethical will.

.          Many newlyweds sit down and share their values in ethical wills. It doesn’t matter if you are an engaged couple, brand new parents, divorcing, empty nesters, or end of lifers, there is no time like the present. Not everyone can pass along a financial legacy, but everybody can transmit some of the richness of life. You have lived and learned and have thoughts to pass on. Just be yourself. Open your heart and write

Christmas tree not place for political mudslinging

Gerry Niskern

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Soon the scent of fresh pine trees will join the aroma of cookies baking and simmering fudge. In recent years something more has been added to the menu as families and friends gather at the holidays to celebrate our blessings. The new item around the table is political rhetoric. There is always someone at social gatherings who cannot stay off politics. Tongues dripping with venom, they refer to “liberals” or “neo-conservatives,” depending on their take on current events. They’re fond of attaching labels on anyone who has a different opinion. The problem is, they usually only know one side, their side. Whatever political party their daddy or granddaddy belonged to, that’s their party. There’s a time and a place for political debates, but it is not family gatherings. There is one fact we all need to consider. We are heading into an election year that promises to be bruising. Although we are free to observe our special day any way we choose, I think we all agree we also want our children to remember the happy holiday times. Friends and family are the glue that holds our country together. The holiday traditions are the fiber and backbone of our nation. We all know that there are many talking heads on radio and television who are only concerned about their own agenda. What will they care, when the election is over, that old friends and family members are no longer speaking? There is a lot of discussion about civility these days. Each political party thinks the other should be more civil. Actually, with understanding, comes civility. And to understand, you must be informed; informed on all sides of every issue. Isn’t it great that in this country we are free to read the paper, not just your favorite, but any world paper? We are amazed at the different take on world situations, depending on the city or country. Online editions are available. We’re free to read a weekly newsmagazine that presents both sides of issues. Do yourself a favor. Don’t make the mistake of getting your opinion from one source. Learn to really listen to other opinions. Listening is a sign of respect. Listen for information, not ammunition to fling at friends. Every American needs a worldview because we live in an integrated world. How often have you heard someone remark, “I didn’t really know the layout of the Middle East until the war in Iraq?” It’s true that we don’t study geography extensively in our schools, but it’s not too late. If you have children or grandchildren, help them to open their eyes to the other countries and religions of our world. Lead by example. Read with them the origins of the Arabs and Jews, along with other ethnic groups. Discuss the differences and similarities. Encourage them to form their own opinions. Citizens of other countries know about our freedoms and about our holidays, too. They know that we can choose, you, me and everyone across this country, to gather family and friends and observe the day. They know that people have died for our unity and free speech. But, what exactly needs said? Plenty. Can it wait until after a holiday? You bet. What do you say? Shall we all get together on Christmas and not talk politics? Works for me.

“The Best Gift Ever”

By

Gerry Niskern

Do you try to find the best gift ever for someone on your Christmas list? I do.

I can only get excited about Christmas after I start thinking of something as a really special surprise for at least one person. I can’t do it for everyone, but one’s enough to give me the Christmas spirit.

I get into the spirit of the season remembering some other special gifting. My earliest memory was of a tiny ladies lapel pin. It was a glowing lantern with some holly. I wrapped it in an empty Oxydol box to fool my mom. I saved all year for that special gift that cost 25 cents.

My resident historian was quite a harmonica player as a teen. I saved baby sitting money for months to buy him a large Hohner chromatic harmonica. I was serenaded many evenings for my efforts.

Back in the 50’s after the Russians had launched Sputnik, rockets were all kids in the U. S. could talk about. I found magazine ad for a heavy cardboard put-together-yourself rocket ship. Our kids were the envy of the block. They stood in line to blast off in our rocket ship.

During the “Maverick” years I scoured Phoenix and found 4 matching cowboy hats for our two boys and their two male cousins. Not just any cowboy hat. When you whipped it off your head a secret cowboy pistol popped out, pointed straight at the “outlaw of the day.”

I remember sewing and smocking two matching dresses for my daughter and her little cousin. If you have ever smocked, you know it was truly a gift of love. Another time, in the sixties, I found a six year old niece a “low rise skirt and Poor Boy top” and she exclaimed, “Oh, a Beatles dress!”

Of course, I’ve received my share of special gifts, but the one I loved the most was during the “baby” years of the 50’s. My resident historian brought home a portable dishwasher. It was like being given a maid for Christmas!

Have you found the best gift ever yet?

“A Bookish Christmas”

By

Gerry Niskern

It’s December shopping time again. So come on, all you avid readers out there. We know who you are. We’re the ones who give books for Christmas.  We’re part of a shrinking society and we have to stick together to stem the overwhelming tide of modern technology.

We’ve all heard the old saying, “Christmas is for children”. The kids tell Santa their Yuletide wishes and settle back knowing that at least some of the objects of their desires will appear on Christmas morning.

Here’s an idea.  Let someone else buy the electronic games for the children. We’ll keep reminding them that there’s nothing better than the physical presence of a book. The feel of slick new pages, the rich smell of the cover, and the limitless possibilities for their imagination to unfold.

I started out to do my Christmas shopping one morning last week. The next thing I knew, I was in a bookstore. It couldn’t hurt to browse a little, right?  Then I would go onto the other stores. Then, I saw a display of one of the latest biographies published. Perfect for my daughter. I’ll concede she looks like her dad’s side of the family, but I’m delighted that she shares my joy in reading. She sat on my lap around eight months of age and identified all the B words in her first little book. There’s nothing more gratifying than holding a toddler on your lap and introducing her to one of your favorite childhood books; reading the words and watching a chubby hand move over the pictures in wonder.

The family stills laughs about how that grandson used to sit up in his crib at night, when the electric heater came on and cast a glow across his room. You could hear the pages of his little books rustling as he read furiously until the heater cycled off again.

When it comes to books and kids, we had a “Babar” son. It seemed like he read nothing else for years. Hmm….I wonder if the littlest one in the family would like a Babar book. They’re back, you know.

Son-in-law can always use another fishing book and a volume of poems for the poet in the family. . The history buffs in the family will enjoy the updated and expanded edition of Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time and the teens anything by John Green, popular young adults author of The Fault is in the Stars.

Not too many centuries ago books were rare and valuable? Paper was unheard of in many parts of the world and countless people lived their whole lives without touching or even seeing a book.

When the family gathers this year, I’m sure it will be a typical electronic Christmas. There will be new video and computer games, all kinds of intriguing new gadgets and of course, lot’s of new cell phones. I know I’m fighting an uphill battle, but I’m giving books. Traditions are what we make and I’m continuing an old one.

Maybe Christmas could be a reminder that nothing thrills like unwrapping a brand new book. Running you hand over the rich binding, smelling the new pages and settling down to be transported to worlds only you will know is a delight.  The images you see, are not flashed on a screen, but are your very own.

“Bullies”

by

Gerry Niskern

Have you heard any stories lately about bullying at school?  You will.

When we read about a shooting in school somewhere in the country we usually learn the shooter had been unmercifully teased and harassed by classmates, in other words, bullied. It is a major problem in our schools today. The demand for security cameras to monitor belligerent students has grown drastically in recent years.

It starts early. Unfortunately, by the time the child enters kindergarten, any bullying traits in his makeup are already firmly established. Play habits build slowly step by step as actions by our children are reinforced positively or negatively.

Childhood professionals have always said, children love to play the ‘I’m the master game!’ It’s the cause of most arguments, and the kids look to you for guidance.

If one sibling or playmate seems to always be the one crying, find out why. Do you take the time to see if there is a pattern to the injuries? Constant supervision of playtime is not easy; it’s time consuming. Hey, no one has ever said being a parent was easy.

Today, it’s more important then ever to insist they develop a strong social conscience.

I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s up to all of us as parents, grandparents or caregivers to observe and correct one child’s infringes on another’s space. The influence of violent action packed video games, television shows and movies is very strong, therefore,  adults need to be vigilant in watching for resultant bullying behavior. That will probably never change, and yes, they will be exposed to electronic entertainment.

Strong intervention early in a child’s play can go a long ways to developing good social habits. When boys and girls play together, many times boys are more aggressive. Many parents view this behavior as natural and therefore, okay. (After all, that’s what boys do). The problem is girls tend to then accept the fact that males are indeed dominant.  There also seems to be a growing problem of bullying among girls themselves.

Wouldn’t it be great if everyone who influences the development of our children was dedicated to instilling the code that the bigger and stronger among us must be wiser and kinder?

Some argue that kids need to learn to stand up for themselves.   But there’s a fine line between a child learning to stand up for himself and bullying. You’re right, there is indeed a line, a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

“What are you thankful for?

Thanksgiving is coming and I, like many residents around the valley, am remembering past Thanksgivings.

Tension best describes my first memories of Thanksgiving.  My mother had just cooked her first Turkey dinner. We were standing with our faces pressed against the cold glass of the dining room window straining to see through the snowy veil of a West Virginia blizzard.  Dad had invited his out-of-state boss to share our meal and the   brought his rifle to “get in a little hunting”. As mom wrung her apron over and over into a tiny knot, she kept muttering, ”If he’s gotten himself lost in that snow storm, I’m going to kill him!”

One son recalled the great Thanksgivings when our extended family always packed their turkey and all the trimmings and headed for a desert picnic outside Phoenix. The kids rode go-carts, flew kites and launched rockets. Grandpa set up tables and the tailgates of pickups served as buffet sideboards.  He remembers waiting over an hour one year for cousins to arrive with the silverware. Grandma said she would give them another assignment the next year!

A friend told me about the Oklahoma farm Thanksgivings of her childhood.  Sometimes turkey, but often a whole, crackling pig was roasted. They had cornbread dressing, cranberries and sweet potatoes with marshmallows. Cherry, pumpkin and apple pie with a scoop of cream whipped fresh that day with a hand turned beater. There was always a dark chocolate and a huge angel food cake.  “One aunt was the angel food champion. My aunts whispered suspicions that she used more egg whites instead of the standard 12 in her cake.”

The men ate first because there wasn’t enough room for everybody to sit down together. When they were finished and went outside to smoke and “chew the fat”, the women and children ate.   “The best part of the day was playing with my cousins. Hide and Seek in the barn was my favorite, but then the older kids would organize a Crack the Whip game and since I was the littlest they made me be on the tail end. That took the fun right out of Thanksgiving!”

Another friend described Thanksgiving dinner at an aunt’s Maryland farm. The table was set with scalloped edged china covered in large blue flowers and gleaming silverware with a rose pattern.  The prisms hanging from the crystal candelabra cast soft rainbows on the diners. Of course, that was the adult table. She remembers yearning to graduate to the big table and listen to the uncles’ stories and take part in the adult conversation. On one of those Thanksgivings, the turkey had to be carved in the kitchen instead of at the table.  Most of the guests didn’t know that a couple of the family dogs had already helped themselves to one whole side of breast!

My resident historian said that his first memory of Thanksgiving was during WWII. A fourth grade classmate invited him to share a lonely dinner with him and his mom. The dad was on a destroyer somewhere in the Atlantic.

During the war years, my Mother instructed Dad to “go down to the USO and bring home some soldiers to share Thanksgiving dinner with us and the girls.” Much to our disappoinment,  he usually managed to return with older married guys. Mom always said Dad didn’t “fall off the turnip truck yesterday.”

I asked a seven-year-old what he was thankful for at Thanksgiving time.

“That Christmas is coming”

Well, there’s that too.

Thanksgiving

Gerry Niskern

Looking back over all the years of cooking Thanksgiving dinner for my family, I would have to say the hardest part was not mastering the fine art of making smooth gravy, fluffy potatoes or fragrant yeast rolls; the most difficult chore was finding my measuring spoons.

You see, the cluster of shiny metal spoons on a ring is always wherever the last visiting baby in the family dropped them…hopefully in the toy box. Never mind the exact measurements of cinnamon and cloves for the pumpkin pie, the clickity-clack of the spoons makes the neatest noise.

Of course, some cooks consider the turkey gravy the most tedious task of Thanksgiving dinner. And it would be, without my trusty gravy maker; that wonderful coiled metal utensil that springs back to the baby’s delight when pushed down. Then again, it’s great for chomping down on the cold metal with swollen teething gums.

As time went by, the pot lids made great cymbals for the toddler kitchen band accompanying the drumbeat of the wooden spoon on the bottom of the turkey roaster.

When families in the United States gather this year as they do in many other countries for annual harvest festivals, some members will be missing due to war, divorce, quarrels, never to return; but we need to carry on family customs as usual. When we reinforce family traditions we strengthen our community and our nation.

Our nation isn’t like it was years ago, or even six months ago. Years from now, when our kids and grandkids look back on this Thanksgiving, they probably will remember hearing the grownups asking “Will life in America ever be the same?”

But if we do our job right those memories will be crowded out by the smell of the bird, the taste of sweet potatoes and the teasing about whether the guys or gals team will  win the favorite family game.

And too, it’s always more fun when there is a baby in the family who is old enough for its first taste of potatoes and gravy and maybe a bite of pumpkin pie.

By now, the turkey is ordered, the grocery shopping is done and the seating is arranged. Only the pies are left to be baked.

Now, where are those measuring spoons?

Yard Sales

Falls here! It’s the season. Do those of us living here in the valley get to see changing leaves? No. As we drive through the neighborhoods we’re treated to dresses and shirts flapping in the breeze, marked 50 cents to couple of dollars.  You’re not going to believe this, but I even discovered, in front of a half a million-dollar house, used socks and underwear for sale. Racks with used items are set up on the driveway.  Their children are there too; selling tables full of toys.

I will admit, I was taken by surprise the first time I saw the kiddie business people. Then I read an article in the Financial Education section. The piece was entitled “Yard sales a way to teach children many lessons.”  The writer then proceeded to explain how the kids could display their used toys attractively. There were pricing suggestions and a lesson in how to deal with a customer who wants a discount.  The reader was assured his children would soon be on their way to becoming successful entrepreneurs.

What’s happened to our society?  We all know the majority of children in this country are showered with toys on Christmas and birthdays. Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t one of the most important virtues we were taught to cultivate within ourselves as children called charity. You remember charity; defined in Webster’s as: “the voluntary giving to those in need.”

Much is being espoused these days about teaching moral values and volumes have been written on virtues. Still, the best way to teach is by example.

My mother had a rule in our home when I was growing up. “You never sell a gift.”  When you no longer use it and wish to dispose of it, you look around and give it to someone less fortunate.

Perhaps her policy of giving to those in need came from having been there. . When she was a child there were no toys at Christmas or new dresses at Easter time.  She was determined that her daughter’s would enjoy a more carefree childhood. However, she also saw to it that we were taught to remember people in need.

In later years, my parents ran a small manufacturing business here in the valley. Their employees were unskilled labor, most of them women who were having a rough time financially. My sister and I frequently received a call from Mom telling us to clean out our closets. “Bring down anything you are not using. I have a new girl who needs some help.”

There has been a movement in the last decade to fault the poor for not “pulling themselves up by their own bootstraps.” The truth is, there are many people having a hard time making ends meet these days. They are unskilled or unlucky. Minimum wage hardly buys necessities, let alone extras.

Have you ever been to a Salvation Army, Goodwill or other discard store? Even better, have you taken your child with you?  Have you seen a family shopping for clothes and household items, even nursery necessities?  The children head straight for the toy shelves. They hug the used and worn toys to their chest, their eyes searching for Mom or Dad.           It goes without saying that an occasional estate or moving sale is necessary, but come on; giving isn’t just for Christmastime. People in need are all around us every day. There are certain periods of life that are more suited to nurturing charitable traits…childhood is one of them. In these days of affluence, let’s teach our children the way of the heart, not the purse.

“Open their eyes to Magic”

By

Gerry Niskern

When my adult grandson suggested  “You should write about taking children to plays. People nowadays don’t take little kids to the theatre enough,” I listened.

He is right, of course. Our valley has some wonderful theatre for children. Skip the big, lavish productions.  The best children’s theatre takes place in small venues.

All the generations that have accompanied me to the theatre shared one trait, when that play started, they were mesmerized.

Years ago, my granddaughter and her four five-year-old friends piled into the back seat of my convertible every month for a trip to the Children’s Theatre. They coveted front row seats because the actors ventured into the audience!

They loved approaching the players afterwards for autographs. The Prince or the Frog actually talked to them!

On the way home was MAC DONALDS. When granddaughter was allowed to purchase four hot fudge sundaes she proudly carried the tilting tray back to the table as they slid off, one by one.  She did the only sensible thing, she cried.

When that adult  grandson was four and ready for the play going; as everyone was clapping at the appropriate times during the performance, he proceeded to pump his fist and shout “Whoo, Whoo, Whoo!”

When it was his “rough and tumble” younger brother’s turn to attend, I was hesitant.  He was very quiet during “Beauty and the Beast”. But, when I asked how he liked it, he replied, with big eyes, “I loved it!”. Even the tough guys can be melted.

Soon little sister joined us. When the players are taking parts without costumes or miming, the improv doesn’t throw the kids…they understand the concepts completely, no questions.

It’s great to hear that they acted out the plays at home. I’m sure when they did “Rampunnsel” as the Prince, he wasn’t allowed to climb her hair!

We recently went to the Valley Youth Theatre. There was a small orchestra pit and the kids sitting in front were allowed to peer down at the musicians. I had to come see the “really big guitar’ as they pointed out the bass fiddle.

After the performance and autographs were signed, I finally heard what I had been waiting for all these years, “ When can I be up on that stage?”