My World…the Bronx

Posted on June 3, 2021 by hdh

My World…the Bronx

I grew up in the Bronx. I have no idea why it is the only borough in New York City that needs a “the” in front of it. It’s like “The Home Depot”. When you looked it up in the old phone books for Home Depot, you had to look under “T”, though nowadays you can find it in the “H’s”. Anyway, I lived across the street from Manhattan College. Again, why Manhattan College was placed in the Bronx has been a question that I’m sure scholars have been wondering for years; I know I have.

 

Across the street from the apartment I grew up in, was a New York City subway depot, where subways were stored or repaired when not in use. Next to the Depot and my street was Gaelic Park. This was a stadium that I assume was used by Manhattan College for some of their football or soccer games. I know this because, from the 11th-floor roof of my apartment, better known to us New Yorkers as tar beach, we could see the games. There were too many trees blocking the view from our 2nd-floor apartment to see the field from our window, but we could go outside and sit on the rocks above the depot to watch games. 

We also got to see some other teams play games and they held concerts there. The only concert I remember was during my college years; the group, “the Association” came to perform. 

If you walked down the block from my apartment building you came to the last stop of the Number 7 IRT line of the NYC subway system. If you crossed the street (Broadway) you ended up in Van Cortlandt Park. This was the place that I went to with my father to watch local men’s soccer teams play. It’s where my father would regale me with all of his experiences as a soccer player on the German National team Schalke 04 when he grew up in Germany. Note – The fact that he played for this team has never been proven, and I’ve tried. I even wrote to the team historian.  Either my father was lying, after all, he did lie about how old he was when he came over to America; in fact, when my mother found out some 25 years later, she refused to ever give him a birthday present again. Then again, I don’t remember her ever giving him presents for his birthday before his real age was revealed either. The other reason his name might not have shown up in Schalke’s records is that all records of Jews playing on a German team in the early 1930s might have been purged by the political powers at that time, so no record would remain. 

Van Cortlandt Park was just a nice place to go and play catch or take walks. You could also fly kites if the season was right and you happened to have a kite, which I rarely did. In addition to flat playing areas that one could play a pick-up soccer game, it had hilly areas you could roll around on. It had its own stadium also, where they would shoot off fireworks on the 4th of July. Again most of which we saw from the 11th-floor roof.

That’s where I grew up. I haven’t been back there since my mother passed away in 1998. But looking at street views on Google, I know that a lot has changed. But isn’t that true everywhere?

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A Dickens of a Day

Posted on May 26, 2021 by hdh

A Dickens of a Day*

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.

I just found 3 one hundred dollar bills. I had been walking on my usual trip around the block and there the money was just lying on the ground. So I picked up the three bills. My inner voice said, “Do all the good you can and make as little fuss about it as possible.” But did I want to be that altruistic?

I met up with my friends Ronald, Dave, and Jude and asked them what I should do with the money. Ronald was quick to reply, “Happiness is a gift and the trick is not to expect it, but to delight in it when it comes. Go out and get that new gaming system you’ve been chatting about for the past three months.” 

I realized To the young heart everything is fun.

Dave was more down to earth, “We forge the chains we wear in life. A loving heart is the truest wisdom. You should donate the money to a needy cause. You’ll feel much better.”

Jude had a different idea, “Consider nothing impossible, then treat possibilities as probabilities. Why not put that money into that new company Apple. My dad says that the personal computer is going to be a big thing in the future. I’m sure he would be willing to invest it for you.”

Clearly, I needed to do something with the money. Everybody said so. Far be it from me to assert that what everybody says must be true. Everybody is, often, as likely to be wrong as right. So I decided to think a little more.

When I got home I put the money on the desk in the hall under my hat and sat out on the back porch thinking about what I should do. Three hundred dollars at that time was a lot of money. New thoughts and hopes were whirling through my mind, and all the colours of my life were changing.” Or so I had hoped. 

What I hadn’t counted on was the housecleaning crew, who happened to be working in the house that day. 

I had decided that the best thing to do would be to give the money to my parents and let them hold it for me until I made my decision. When I got to the hall the cleaning crew had already left and my hat was nowhere to be found. Always suspect everybody. That’s the maxim to go through life with.

There are very few moments in a man’s existence when he experiences so much ludicrous distress, or meets with so little charitable commiseration, as when he is in pursuit of his own hat.

There is nothing so strong or safe in an emergency of life as the simple truth. This is a world of action, and not for moping and droning in. To conceal anything from those to whom I am attached is not in my nature. So I tried to explain to my parents about the money. I said, “Ask no questions, and you’ll be told no lies.” and then told them what had occurred.  I don’t think that they believed me. They trusted the house cleaners and they didn’t ask any questions.

I was upset and started to cry. I remembered what my mother once told me. “We need never be ashamed of our tears,” so I didn’t even apologize even if they thought I was lying. 

No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another. And that is exactly what my parents did. They took me out for dinner that night and let me order my favorite topping on my pizza. 

Thinking back on that day I said to myself, “That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But, it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been.” If I only could have spent that $300.00.

——————————

*Author’s note: The story prompts to choose from for this piece were two quotes from Charles Dickens. I chose them both and added a few more within the piece.  Everything written in italics is a quote from Charles Dickens. There are 19 of them.

 

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Lost but not Found…well almost.

Posted on May 20, 2021 by hdh

Lost but not Found…well almost

I knew I had it. I had just purchased it last week. Why couldn’t I find it? 

Sounds familiar, it should. It has become a frequent occurrence lately. For years I used to blame any missing item on our house ghost, Herman. And in fact, we still do. If anyone happens to find that missing cloth Covid mask from last September, or the Christmas list listing all of the cookies that I have baked over the last 5 years, which I know I wrote down and put somewhere safe, please return them. 

Usually, over time the offending item is retrieved. Usually in a place that would be the obvious place to have left it. And of course, the place that I thoroughly searched numerous times before it turned up. That Herman is a tricky one. But there are still those things like the mask and cookie list that still are waiting to be found. 

How about…It’s’ on the tip of my tongue. I know the song you’re talking about, I can almost sing it in my head, but can’t remember the name. The singer’s name begins with a C.  I can’t blame Herman for those misplaced memories.

For the most part, those answers usually come back to me. Usually 1 to 2 days later and at an inconvenient time, or so I’ve been told, when I scream out, “Neil Diamond!” in the middle of a meeting. And yes, I know I was wrong, his name didn’t start with a “C”. That will probably be the name of the next songwriter or song I forget. 

Now when I’m in a restaurant and hear a song I can’t remember the name of, I have a watch app that can listen for me and give me all of the information I need. That too does become a little disrupting and inconvenient, during a romantic dinner with my wife. But sometimes you just have to know. 

Some people call this old age. They say it happens to everyone. If that is the case, then my old age must have started at about age 25. Then again, I’ve always liked a good mystery and that is exactly what these all are. A conundrum to be unraveled. A perplexing intrigue to be sleuthed. 

What would life be like, if we could always find what we needed when it was needed?

 I had a great ending for this piece…it’s on the tip of my tongue, or should I say keyboard. But it just escapes me. Don’t worry, I’m sure by the next time I write it will come to me. I just hope it’s not while I’m writing a serious piece.

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One day at a time

Posted on May 13, 2021 by hdh

 

One day at a time

“Just take it one day at a time,” she said as I felt the pangs of hunger reach deep into the pit of despair. “You’ll be fine.”

I replied, “That’s easy for you to say. You’re the one with all the experience in survival training. I’m just a poor computer tech, with no signal available on my phone.”

We were deep in the forest where they left us to fend for ourselves. We had 3 days to make it back to civilization and let the authorities know of their plans. If we didn’t make it we would be too late. It’s tough to think straight when you are isolated in an unknown place with a time deadline, and I literally mean a “Dead” line. 

We had managed to survive the first day by finding a direction to go in. Lucky for us it was a sunny, clear day so we could track the path of the sun to head east. There were no particular paths to follow, but there was enough a clearing through the trees to be able to maintain our direction. Alice, my companion, suggested that I use the MacGyver knife that I always carry with me, to notch the trees as we moved along so we would be able to determine if we somehow got turned around.

Food and water were a distinct disadvantage. As I said, my stomach kept grumbling, “Where’s the beef?” Which is interesting since I’m a vegetarian. 

When we reached the first clearing at the end of the day, Alice was quick to notice some fresh edible vegetation that provided us with some sustenance. As I went behind a tree to relieve myself, I was lucky to discover a small stream, with hopefully drinkable water. 

It was a warm summer’s night so we didn’t need much in the way of shelter that evening. We decided that we would take a short nap rather than trudge on throughout the night, having nothing to guide us and wanting to be fresh enough for the challenging road ahead. 

The second day was a bit more of a challenge. Moving forward slowly as the way to go was not clear. Climbing around roots of trees and loose boulders made for a more safety concerning trek. We did spot a few rabbits and definitely, countless birds seemed to be following us. At one point I felt my eyes deceiving me as I thought I saw a drone flying overhead. But I blinked and it was gone.

That night, because we thought we had lost time during the day, we decided to push on using Alice’s knowledge about the night sky to guide us. 

To make a long story…medium, we did manage to make it through the forest in time to catch up with the authorities. We really didn’t need to rush. The people that had placed us in the forest had already been caught and arrested. Their story unfolded well before we were able to warn anyone. In fact, when they confessed they neglected to mention us at all, which was probably why no one was out looking for us. It still didn’t explain why I might have seen a drone overhead. We weren’t even mentioned in the news report.

We both breathed a sigh of relief, having survived our ordeal and as you might have guessed, we made a beeline to our favorite eatery to get those veggie burgers with all the trimmings. It was quite an adventure. But as Alice said, “You gotta just take it one day at a time.”

 

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Spellbound

Posted on May 10, 2021 by hdh

Spellbound

I followed the directions that the old woman gave me. She guaranteed positive results. The recipe called for two tablespoons of lemon juice (not concentrate) and 4 cups of used juice. It could be any kind she said though she didn’t define what she meant by used juice. I tried not to let my imagination run wild. I chose a bottle of prune juice that had been opened a week ago; so the jar was used. 

The next ingredient was a wing from something that was never alive.  This was trickier. Clearly, a bird’s wing or mosquito’s wing was not acceptable as they are living things. I decided that I would make a paper airplane and then tear off the wing and use that.

The last ingredient was 3 tablespoons of oils. Each tablespoon was to be of a different type of oil. I used Safflower Oil, Bath Oil, and Motor Oil. 

The next step was to combine all of the ingredients in an 8-quart pot with 32 ounces of distilled water. She said that I could use bottled spring water as a substitute if I couldn’t get distilled water.  By happenstance, I used two 16-oz. bottles of Evian Spring Water. Did you ever notice that Evian spelled backwards spells naive?  That should have been a warning for me that something would go wrong. 

I was to spit into the pot and then say the words…well I’m not going to tell you what I was supposed to say since I did pay for this potion and don’t feel it is appropriate to give it away for free. Anyway, I said “Hair be gone, Hair be near, Hair be over what’s bare appear”… Oops, forget I just told you that. 

Anyway, after I said the words, I was supposed to heat the pot with all the ingredients, stirring only three times for exactly seven minutes, and then take it off of the heating source and pour the entire contents into a bowl that was sitting in a tub of ice. Though dry ice was preferred, she said that regular ice would work, it would only take a little longer for the mixture to gel. 

When it gelled I was to force strain what was left through a colander and then store it in a sealed jar in the refrigerator for at least 29 days. 

For this, I had paid $5,000. It had a 30-day money-back guarantee. The thing is I’ve never been very good at math and didn’t pick up on the fact that the 29 day wait period and the 3 days it was supposed to take to work was more than 30 days. Now you understand the naive part. 

I waited the 29 days, took the potion out of the fridge, and then I realized that I was missing something. I was missing the part that tells you what to do with the potion. And of course, that was also the part of the instructions that had all of the old woman’s contact information on it. She had no web presence, so there was no way to get in touch with her. I went to the storefront that I had purchased this potion, and it was all boarded up, no one was there. I was beginning to be concerned that this might have been a scam. 

All I knew was that it was supposed to take 3 days before I could use it. But do I drink this glop, if so how much and how often? Do I slather it on my head? Oh did I forget to mention that this potion was to deal with my seriously receding hairline? Anyway, so putting it on my head would make sense. Did it only work on humans?  

I decided to test some of these theories out before I attempted to use the product. First and foremost I decided that drinking this mess with motor oil and prune juice in it was not going to happen regardless of its effectiveness. I did leave a small dollop of it on my front porch, figuring if any wild animal felt like taking a bite I might be able to see if that would have been the route to take. 

As to putting it on something, I smeared some on my bowling ball, figuring if it grew hair on a bowling wall, that was the way to go. Not quite sure what I would do with a hairy bowling ball, but that didn’t work anyway.  

If it needed a living being to work, I thought about putting some on my cat, but she already sheds way too much hair. Giving her more hair just seemed like a lot of extra work for me, I decided to find a part of my body other than my head and see if it worked there. I tried to think of a very inconspicuous part of my body to try it on. Let’s just say that it worked and now I need to get a larger-sized right shoe, or else I have to shave my foot every 12 hours. 

Having gotten the answer that I needed and how effective this potion was I decided not to use it on my head. I can live with my receding hairline, in fact, I hear going bald is the in thing nowadays. 

As an endnote, when the potion I produced ran out, so did the hair growth on my foot, which would have meant I would have had to keep making this potion to keep my hairline the way I wanted it and to use it forever. Once you add up the cost of the ingredients (I still don’t know why you need a wing) and how often you have to refill the jar, I guess a $5,000 test run was a good investment. 

Now if I can only find a way to make myself taller. Do you know anyone with a potion or spell?

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Grandparents…an imagined adventure

Posted on May 9, 2021 by hdh

Grandparents…an imagined adventure

I’d like to think of my grandparents as loving but strict enforcers of rules and regulations. Then again, I never knew my grandparents. They all passed away well before I was born. So the only way I can presume what they were like is from looking at pictures of them and the way my parents brought me up. Note that all four of my grandparents grew up and spent most, if not all of their lives in Germany. 

Let’s talk about my father’s parents, Otto and Minna.  Otto was the only one of my grandparents that never made it to the United States. He died in 1939 just prior to the start of World War II. The only full-length picture of him that I have was in an army uniform, assumedly during WW I. He seemed like a very proud man. He would have been the one that was very strict with my father and probably very aloof from him. My father never shared any stories about his parents with me.  

Minna on the other hand died in 1941 in New York. Everything I learned about her, believe it or not, was from my mother. She lived with my parents when they first got married in 1941. According to my mom, she was a busy body. She had to watch everything my mother did and criticized whatever my mother was doing. I suspect that she was the dominant force in my father’s upbringing, demanding perfection and enforcing rules that had to be followed. 

Then there were my mother’s parents, Herman and Lina. This time it was my mother that failed to share stories about them. Most of the pictures that I have of them, show them together. So I have a feeling they felt very close to each other. 

Lina died in 1938 in New York. From the pictures of her, she clearly loved kids. She had 6 of them and considering all the tomboyish adventures my mother exhibited in her youth and got away with, I’d say her mother was kind and somewhat less lenient than Herman. Not that I know much about him. 

Herman died in 1947, three years before I was born. All of the photos I have of him seem to be taken outside. So I would surmise that he liked the outdoors. My sisters were both born before he died. My sister Leslie was only 2 years old and my sister Marion was only 4 years old. I’m not sure either of them remembers much about him. 

It’s hard to imagine what my grandparents were really like since no one ever talked about them. I’m curious whether or not being German Jews living in Germany prior to WWII might have made it more difficult for my parents to want to share any of their stories.

 Luckily for my son, other than my father, the rest of his grandparents were alive as he grew up. I try to share with him some of the stories of my parents with him so that he can create an image of his grandparents that he can relate to. It always helps to know where you come from. That’s probably why I got so interested in my ancestors and genealogy and found my half-brother (https://www.hdhstory.net/Storyblog/?p=320) along the way.

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Whether or Not?

Posted on May 6, 2021 by hdh

Whether or Not?

It was a dark and stormy night…no forget that…It was a clear and beautiful night…No that doesn’t work either. It was a partly cloudy and potentially stormy night…Wrong again…Let’s try it was a partly clear night, but isn’t that the same as a partly cloudy night? 

I’m confused. You would think with all the training I got as a meteorologist, I would be able to create a simple weather forecast for my first day on the job. Here I sit with all the data in front of me and I can’t make head nor tails of it. I really don’t want to inform the producers of this news station that I only graduated with a C average. I might have told them when they interviewed me but they never asked. 

I think they hired me because of my green screen skills. I know exactly where to point in the air to make it look like I’m pointing to the right spot on the map. 

I’ve set up all of the maps for the report, now all I need to know is what to say. I looked at the radar on my phone, and there were a lot of green and orange blotches coming our way. That must be a storm, but the sky was clear today when I came into the building. It would be nice if they had some windows in this studio. 

I checked my weather apps on my phone and they all have different forecasts. So now I have no idea what to do. Think, Harvey, think. 

Wait a minute, that’s it. I’m a meteorologist. My title itself gives me credibility regardless of what I say. As long as I don’t say that there is 100% or 0% of something happening then I can’t be wrong. I can do this. 

The On-Air light goes on.

“Welcome to tonight’s weather forecast. I’m sure you all enjoyed the clear skies we had this afternoon and went out and had some fun. Unfortunately for tonight, there is good news and bad news. The good news is that the pleasant skies that appeared this afternoon will continue into the night with a 68% probability. I know that some of you looking at the radar on our screen see that there is a storm front coming towards us. If you look closely at the direction it is going, it appears that it may just pass to the north of us. Should there be a wind shift however there will be a 36% chance that we might get some bad weather. It’s all in the wind’s power now as it is an unpredictable occurrence. Be comforted to know by tomorrow the weather will change. Something to look forward to. Till tomorrow. I’m Harvey Witless signing off. 

The On-Air light goes off.

I’m really going to like this job. 

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A to Z Blog Challenge 2021 – A Reflection

Posted on May 4, 2021 by hdh

A to Z 2021 – A Reflection

    Another year has come to an end. This is my 6th year doing the A to Z Challenge and it never gets dull. This year was somewhat different in that I didn’t get as many ideas from others, like the 4th, 5th, and 6th graders I used to substitute teach for. COVID risks left me out of the working in school loop. I did ask for some remote assistance through Google Classroom with one 4th grade class and actually used one of their suggestions (see E – Elephant as a Pet) and used a suggestion from my son (U – Utopia).  I also asked for suggestions from my Writing groups, but did not get much response from them. 

    So this year for the most part I was on my own. I chose the Theme: Wishes, Lies, and Dreams because as a storyteller I thought it would give me lots of flexibility in the writing I could do whether it was fiction, non-fiction or poetry. As I wrote each piece I left it up to the audience whether they could figure out which one(s) of those themes each story was connected to.

    Like last year I tried to write well ahead of time to get the pieces written and just schedule them to post. Also for one story, I broke it up into multiple letters that weren’t consecutive, so the readers had to wait for the continuation of the story (see “What’s in the bag? (unabridged)) Thanks to two of my writing group friends, Jeff and Rhonda, who gave me some ideas and input as I wrote that piece.

    I also completely changed the topic of what my S story was about, after conversations with my wife and daughter-in-law. The story I was going to base it on, ‘Sir Gawaine and Lady Ragnell’, came off as not very politically appropriate, especially without the context of the original folktale. Instead, I found a story I had started writing in one of my writing groups in October of 2016 but never returned to finish. It was perfect for what I wanted to say for S.

    My writing style worked its magic as it usually does. I basically start writing a first sentence with no thought of where the story is going to go and my muse does the rest. When I’m done I revise and edit and look for pictures or cartoons on the web that would enhance what I wrote. With the ‘What’s in the bag story?’ I wrote the B part and then threw it out to Jeff and Rhonda as to where they thought it should go. Rhonda gave me the end result of who the money would go to, the rest evolved as I wrote it with ongoing edits from Jeff. 

    As well ahead of the due dates I hoped to be, both Y and Z were written the day before posting. Once I had the idea for Fountain of Youth and finished it, the idea for Z came. I figured with everyone suffering from Zoom Fatigue, writing about a Zoom meeting would just bore everyone. Then I decided to tie it into my Fountain of Youth piece by using a rather different approach to the Zoom meeting. Making a screenshot for that meeting was almost as much fun as writing about the Zoom meeting itself. It certainly took more time. 

    What follows is a hyperlinked list to all of the pieces that I wrote. You are welcome to go to my Blog (www.hdhstory.net/storyblog) and read any of my other pieces of writing that I do throughout the year or that I have written since I retired from teaching in 2006.

Alone, What’s in the bag?, Computerized Mind, Decisions to be made, Elephant as a Pet, Falling – What do you see?, Gone!, Hearing, what did you say?, Island Wish, Jeff comes up with a plan, Kitten – the afterlife for me, Lego Man, Where’s the money?, Nanites: the Next Generation, The Overachiever…If you only really knew him, A Pen in Hand, Questoria, Really?, the Storyteller, Teaching – What a Nightmare!, Utopia, My Vacuum Sucks!, Work Boots – A place to hide, X-Spring and More, Fountain of Youth, My Zoom Meeting

What’s in the bag? (unabridged – B, D, G, J, M)

    As to next year, I plan on continuing to do the A to Z Challenge. I need another t – shirt (I wish they had made one in 2017) to keep my collection going. I usually wear one of those shirts every time I am in a writing group. I’m tossing around an idea for next year that another A to Z Bloger (https://crackerberries.wordpress.com/)  used this year. She wrote a letter to herself for each letter. That again would give me lots of flexibility to play.

    Till then…Keep on writing. 

Harvey Heilbrun 

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Hansel and Gretel – Part 2

Posted on May 3, 2021 by hdh

 

Hansel and Gretel – Part 2

His name was Walter Grimmson. He was the grandson of the infamous Hansel Grimmson of Hansel and Gretel fame. You remember that incident. It was only natural for him when the twins were born to name them Hansel and Gretel. Then his wife died and after some years he remarried.

His two kids were good-natured children growing up and loved hearing the story of their Grandfather and Grand Aunt. However, their stepmother was not fond of them at all. 

“Why did Walter always dote on the two of them?” After all, she had a child of her own too. Her daughter’s name was Babayag, named after her great grandmother Baba Yaga, whose first daughter was murdered in that same Hansel and Gretel incident so long ago. This was a piece of information that Walter was not aware of. 

As this story goes, Walter was away on a two-month business trip when the stepmother decided to get even and do away with Hansel and Gretel. She sent them on a long journey through the Black Forest to find a special gem that was needed for a party she was planning to throw for their father on his return. The gem didn’t exist and she made sure when they left that they had no source of food or communication with them. 

As expected they got lost and did not have the skills they needed to survive. Unexpectedly, what the stepmother had not foreseen was that Babayag would go with them. 

Babayag was aware of the Hansel and Gretel incident, yet only knew it from her mother’s point of view. In fact, anything that happened prior to the original pair finding the witch’s house was unknown to them both. Knowing what her mother had told her over the years did not endear her to the twins, but she also didn’t like that they got to go on all the adventures, so she tagged along. 

To no surprise, deep in the forest, they found a cottage. It was quite enchanting even if it wasn’t made of things to eat. There was a woman outside working in a garden and on seeing them looking so forlorn, invited them into the house. This woman was not what she appeared to be. She was the great-granddaughter of Maleficent. And as bad luck would have it, just as mean. All three of the children were now held captive. And unless they could come up with a plan they would all surely die. 

It was at this time that Babajag started sharing with Hansel and Gretel the story her mother had shared with her and Hansel and Gretel shared their version with Babajag. It was clear to each child that the stories that had been spun to them certainly had way too many pieces missing.  

Determined to work together, they came up with a plan. Hansel played the part of the willing sacrifice and suggested to the witch that she take him and hold him as ransom, for his father would surely pay anything to save him. The witch being intrigued by this idea separated Hansel from the other two to figure out a way to contact the father and which finger on Hansel’s hand would be most recognizable. 

Meanwhile, Babayag used one of the special words that she had learned from her grandmother, that her mother knew nothing about, which called on the black rider of the night to ride over the witch’s house, leaving the house in complete darkness. 

Gretel’s job was to escape from the house in the dark and using a word that Babajag had taught her, create a fire surrounding the house with flame. 

This all worked with artistic perfection. The witch panicked as the three children escaped into the forest before the house was completely surrounded by fire. The fire created enough of a flame to have the proper authorities come to put it out and on finding the three children returned them to their home, just one day before Walter returned from his trip. 

In relating their story to the stepmother a realization came to her. The fate of her great-aunt’s demise was well deserved and the conditions that led the original Hansel and Gretel to the witch’s house was unforgivable. Babayag’s mother begged forgiveness for all she had done, which Hansel and Gretel being the kind of people they were, gladly gave. 

Their stepmother promised that she would make it up to all of the children. And she did. The next day a grand party was made for Walter’s homecoming. Not a word was shared about what had happened. In fact, there was no evidence that anything did happen. The house in the forest had burned down and there was no sign of the witch that lived there ever again. All that was left was the love for each other which blossomed on that day. 

 

Author’s note: Some stories are meant to repeat themselves. In this case, a family learned more about what it means to be a family when you allow past mistakes to be forgiven and let trust and respect grow in order to build a happy ending. 

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Z – My Zoom Meeting

Posted on April 30, 2021 by hdh

Z – My Zoom Meeting

I had just finished writing my “Y – Fountain of Youth” piece when I thought I would get more input from my friends and family about their opinions on getting young again. I started up a Zoom meeting, planning on sending invites to a number of my friends and family when all of a sudden I got Zoom bombed. I have no idea how they got the link nor how it was even possible for them to connect to me. I knew everyone one of the participants. Well, let’s just say I was every one of the participants. 

Here’s a screenshot of what my Zoom screen looked like: 

I wasn’t quite sure where to begin. Though these all look like images, be assured they all were real and could communicate; well, almost all, Harvey Pre-1, constantly babbled during the whole meeting, but he looked like he was trying to communicate something.

“We’re here to discuss the Fountain of Youth,” I stammered, “I’d like your thoughts on its potential”

Harvey Hockey couldn’t wait to jump right in. “Love it, Love it, Love it! I finally get to figure out how to play this game and all I get to play in is an Alumni game when I’m 52. Get me back to my early teen days when I started to play, I’ll show them a thing or two.”

“Forget it”, remarked Harvey Lifeguard, “Make that a few years later, that’s when you were buff, man. Then you could show off your skills.”

I looked at Harvey 3yr, who definitely looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t about to interrupt the big guys, so I asked him, “Do you want to say something?”

Harvey 3yr coyly looked at the screen and said, “I’m cute, I want to push a button on the screen.” That was the last we heard from him as he managed to mute himself. Even as the administrator of this Zoom meeting I couldn’t figure out how to unmute him. But trust me he kept on looking adorable.

Harvey Unkempt was looking me over on the screen and somehow managed to switch all the screens onto speaker view, with his picture being in the spotlight. “Look at all these guys, all neat and straight-laced, except maybe the musical madman. Don’t you want to be me my age? Let your hair down and let it grow out, man. You’d be back in being cool days”

I pointed out to him that in 2020 with COVID lockdowns, had I had his hair, I certainly would have looked that way and it certainly did not look cool. I prefer to have some control over the few hairs I have left. 

Harvey Violinist pointed out that if I went back to pre-high school, and put more time into playing a real instrument like the violin, I might have become a great player that could read music and be in a famous orchestra. “I think my hair looks quite appropriate for a classical musician,” he said.

Harvey Musical Madman might have had something to say, but I had to mute him as all he could do was play silly songs with his guitar and that marching kazoo in his mouth.

Harvey World’s Fair pointed out that 1964 was a great year to go back to. “This is when we went to this great Fair in Queens. I don’t know if there will ever be another one like it. All it cost me was a 15 cent subway ride to get there from the Bronx. All the exhibits were awesome. Also, maybe with the knowledge you older me’s have now, this time you might even pass the entrance exam for the Bronx High School of Science, which I didn’t get into.”

Harvey Teacher rebutted with, “But then maybe you might have become a scientist instead of the teacher you became. Think of all the creative ideas you will miss having, like teaching kids how to bake bread, which is what I’m doing here as part of our Westward Expansion unit.”

“Hey, don’t knock scientists as a profession. You end up marrying one; think of how much more you and Christina would have in common if you were a scientist. And you may have met her much earlier in your life.” Harvey Retire blurted out.

Harvey Dad did not even try to get into the conversation. I could tell by the glazed look in his eyes that all he was thinking about was being a father with a family for the first time. I’m sure he would have suggested going back to when David was born. 

Harvey Storyteller kind of summed it all up, speaking directly to me, “You’re the one who has all of this knowledge and memories and went on all of the adventures. You are the keeper of all the stories. What if when you go back to your youth you have to start over again but don’t keep all these wonderful experiences that you have had? Would you be willing to lose that and be someone other than who you are today?” 

I was about to respond when our 40-minute Zoom window ended. I tried to restart the meeting, but I never could get any of my me’s back again. I guess I didn’t need to at that point. I had gotten the answer to what I was looking for. 

 

Posted in A to Z Blog Challenge 2021, Original Stories, Personal Stories, Writing | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments