The Break In

Posted on November 29, 2023 by hdh

The Break In

Here, I sit in solitary confinement. It was an easy caper. It should have been simple. There was no need to break in; the doors and rooms were always open. 

Yeah, the box was locked, but I’d been able to find the key to it before. It was a question of just closing my eyes and opening them while her back was turned. It helped to be in the same room where she hid the key. She wasn’t very smart. She always hid the key in the same location. Besides, if I didn’t see her hide the key, all I had to do was follow the girls. They also had a way of finding the key. 

If I was lucky and got to the box first, I could take what I wanted. If I saw the girls doing the same thing, I just played the innocent if the owner suspected me and questioned me. 

“I saw one of the girls opening the box,” was an easy answer when questioned. The owner never realized that I hadn’t answered the question asked of me.

Like I said, it should have been easy if it wasn’t for that damn cat. 

I waited until everyone was in their rooms. The doors were shut, so I couldn’t tell if the occupants were asleep or not. But it was late enough that I believed they all were. 

I quietly moved to the dresser in the bedroom, opened the top drawer, and searched out the key. Once in my possession, I stealthily moved through the halls of their apartment, went to the kitchen, and through the curtain that hid the dining room and the box. It was a 1950s-old-style refrigerator. Clearly, food was valuable to this family. With its lock in place, the chain around the refrigerator protected whatever valuables were being hidden. I carefully opened the lock and let the chain down slowly, not making a sound. 

The milk bottle was in the way, so I picked it up and placed it gently on the kitchen counter. There, left on the shelf, was precisely what I was looking for – The jar of maraschino cherries. I grabbed the jar, opened it up, took one of the cherries out, and let it glide into my mouth. The flavor was exquisite. I knew that I should only have taken one, I mean, who’s going to notice one missing? But that taste was too much to ignore. I craved another one.  And that was my big mistake. I hadn’t noticed the cat that had leaped onto the kitchen counter and was eyeing the milk bottle with much interest. All it took was one push of its paw to send the bottle crashing to the ground, leaving bits of glass and milk all over the floor. 

I never had a chance. Within seconds, I heard a rushing of footsteps down the hall. When the curtain was pulled back, there were my parents. I was standing with a recently opened refrigerator that was supposed to be locked, an open jar of maraschino cherries in my hand, broken glass, and a milky mess on the floor, and no cat in sight to be seen. 

They didn’t even have to ask for an explanation. I was the only suspect, guilty as charged. And I couldn’t even blame it on Ronald. 

So, here I sit, grounded for a week. The lock on the refrigerator has been changed. It no longer needs a key. I’m forced to do dishes every night, and they are making me pay for the milk out of my allowance. 

My sisters, who I know do the same thing that I was doing but haven’t been caught yet, get away with it, and they just laugh at me. Someday, I will get even with them. Just wait until I turn eight years old.

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Guest are coming!

Posted on November 21, 2023 by hdh

Guests are Coming!

As Thanksgiving rears its food feast gathering head, one must prepare for all the guests arriving. That means cleaning tasks that usually happen throughout a week’s agenda become priorities for the few days or a day before the big event. 

That means the bathrooms must be cleaned and sanitized. Each house’s rooms must be dusted and vacuumed, beds made in perfect order, dishes washed, dried, and out of sight, and floral arrangements purchased and placed around the house to acknowledge the festive event. We must ensure the windows are cleaned, all toys are put in their proper bins, and couches and chairs are cleared of all papers, magazines, and TV remotes. 

The house must be pristine and sterilized for the oncoming guests. Should a guest wander into any room carelessly, you would expect them to comment on your beautiful home.

You want to foster the image that your house always looks this way. 

WHY DO YOU DO THIS? 

This charade does not fool them. They know because they did the same preparation the last time you were a guest in their house. Trust me, their kids have been at your house and seen it exactly how it usually is. Don’t think this is not reported back to their parents. 

Their parents know when they drop their kids off. You may not invite the parents in, but they can see enough from the doorway.

I understand you want to put on a good show for a festive occasion like Thanksgiving. And it feels good when the house looks clean and well-managed, which it does over a week. So, I’ll give you a break concerning large festive gatherings. However, try not to go too overboard. 

In my family gatherings, we shut rooms down so guests can’t enter. That limits the number of rooms that had to be cleaned. We also took a room that may not have been the cleanest and dumped all the visitors’ coats on the bed in that room, claiming we didn’t have enough closet space or hangers. A lot of stuff can be hidden under a pile of coats, and when there is a bed in a room piled with coats, guests don’t pay much attention to magazines left on chairs, TV remotes, or whether or not the bed has even been made. 

So there might be an excuse for these kinds of events. However, how about the other times when your mom says, “My friend Hilda is coming over this afternoon. Make sure everything is cleaned up.”

Was my mom planning an Open House in preparation for selling the house or renting your room and giving a tour?

“Mom, why would Hilda go into my room?” you ask.

“Just clean your room, and while you’re at it, clean the bathroom upstairs and put away the dishes in the kitchen sink.”

It doesn’t make sense. Hilda knows you. Aunt Lucy knows us. Everyone in our frickin’ neighborhood knows you and has been in this house before. They’ve seen the house unkempt and looking just like their house. Why do we have to put on a show?

If we’re going to go to all that trouble every time someone visits us, I hope you include a message to guests about having to wear formal clothes and white gloves on the invitation. You certainly don’t want to get anything dirty after you’ve put all this effort into prepping the house. 

And what happens with unexpected guests or drop-ins? 

“Excuse me, you’ll just have to wait outside for a few hours while we get the house ready.”

Why can’t we just be who we are? Act normally. Have our house look normal; lived in. It would be so much easier. It’s not like we never clean it up. 

Well, except for my room and my desk.  But no one ever goes in there anyway.

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Gratitude

Posted on November 18, 2023 by hdh

Gratitude

“Thanks,” he said to me.

“Okay,” I replied, not knowing what he thanked me for. “You’re welcome.” I continued walking.

I didn’t have to go much further when I passed someone else. She called out to me, “Hey, Thanks, Harvey.”

Again, I had no clue what I had done to deserve thanks. I stood there and said,  “No problem.” 

She continued on her way, leaving me totally befuddled, so I started walking. 

Again, I hadn’t gotten very far when I was stopped by someone else. They said, “You’re Harvey, aren’t you? Thank you.” Once said, they left me alone without even waiting for a reply.

Okay, this was getting weird. Three people I may have seen while passing through the halls of the school, and everyone thanked me. I was clueless. What could I have possibly done? 

I started making a list in my head. 

Had I donated to a cause? No.

Were they connected to any friends of mine? Not that I knew.

Did I help them with a problem in one of the classes I subbed in? I am trying to remember, but I will go with no.

Is this some joke that one of my friends set up? I can think of one friend who would do something like this, but I haven’t seen him in a while. 

Could this be National Thank-a-Person Day? If so, why only me? I checked my iPhone, and all I found was National Adoption Day and Mickey Mouse’s birthday.

I gave up and just continued my walk. To my surprise, I passed at least five other people, three of whom thanked me. 

Then, I saw one of my good friends, Jeff. 

“Hey, Harv, I just finished sharing some of your stories with a bunch of people. I hope you don’t mind. They all said they either knew you or heard of you. You wouldn’t believe when I was done how many commented on how the stories you had shared with them in the past meant so much to them. For many, your stories came just at the right time in their lives to help them through a crisis. They told me to thank you when I next saw you.”

Now, things made sense to me. I know that storytelling is a powerful tool and that, as a teacher, kids won’t usually tell you, “This is the day you are going to reach me.”

That really made my day. 

I got a few more “Thanks” during the day, and at least this time, I knew how to respond:

 “It was my pleasure. Glad you were there.’

 

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The Hunt

Posted on November 15, 2023 by hdh

The Hunt

It was an impossible task, and time was running out. I had less than 3 hours left. But where to find it?  

If my sisters ever found out that their pet parakeet was missing and something happened to it, I definitely would be added to their death list. 

The bird was gone when I got home; all that was in the cage was a note that said, “Find me.” I immediately recognized the handwriting. I rushed to his house only to find another note on his door. It said, “Help, I’m trapped in a box.” I uttered a few curse words as the door opened, and there stood Ronald. 

“I thought playing hide and seek with an object would be fun,” he said. “I get tired of trying to find you all the time.”

“YOU COULD HAVE ASKED,” I shouted. “This is serious. I need to find that bird before my sisters get home!”

“I thought it was your bird,” was his reply. He said it would be easy to find. I had nothing to worry about. It was hidden in plain sight. 

I waited for the next sentence, but it never came. So, in my head, I filled it in for him, “What could possibly go wrong?”

What could go wrong is that something could die. We played hide and seek before, but never with a live animal. And the fact that Ronald had taken it away in an enclosed box without anyone noticing wasn’t the greatest idea. 

Before I could say anything else, Ronald’s mother called him. He apologized and said he had to go with her to pick up his father, and they were late. 

His mother came rushing out the door, grabbed Ronald, shut and locked the door, then they were gone. I never got an answer to where the parakeet was. If it was in his house, I was doomed. 

So what was I do? I needed to think like Ronald. Those of you who know Ronald realize that thinking like him is challenging. He doesn’t think.

For most people, if you get into their heads, you can follow a logical progression of their thought patterns and behaviors. It is reasonable that you would be able to deduce and infer what they were going to do and where they were going to do it. 

This is not the case with Ronald. To get into Ronald’s head, you had to let your mind go blank, and you were there, meaning there was no predictability, and he could do anything. Less than 2 hours left before my sisters came home. 

A bird, a box, and Ronald, what do they have in common? Well, there was that incident with the bird and the oven https://www.hdhstory.net/Storyblog/?p=2274, but Ronald wasn’t there for most of it. 

Ronald always seems to disappear when the times get tough, just like now. I had to be missing something. 

I tried all the usual places – the candy store on Broadway, the local butcher up the street (I knew it couldn’t be there, but I was getting desperate), the abandoned house on Dash Place, and even the Food Fair on Riverdale Avenue. None of them brought me success. I now had less than an hour left.

I chose to go back home and search the apartment again. I was in my sisters’ room when I heard the front door open, and my sisters entered the apartment. I panicked. I hid in their closet, hoping they wouldn’t find me. Luckily for me, they went directly to the kitchen for a snack. 

While in the closet, I heard some frantic wings flapping and little chirps. Looking down, I found the box. I quickly exited the closet and released the parakeet into their room. I left and hid in the hall bathroom. As soon as they entered their room, I went outside. As I was leaving, I overheard them arguing about who left the cage open after cleaning it. I was in the clear. 

That was until two days later when my oldest sister, Marion, confronted me with an empty shoebox found in her closet with several holes punched in the lid and what appeared to be bird droppings in the box. 

I don’t remember what happened after that. I do remember that Ronald was no longer given free entry to our apartment whenever he chose and that Ronald and I were only allowed to play hide and seek outside. After all, what could possibly go wrong with that?

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The Color of Travel

Posted on November 9, 2023 by hdh

The Color of Travel

The magic of the road is that there is so much to see. When taking long trips, especially at this time of year, the trees and the colors are quite beautiful. I prefer to be in an area where the sights and sounds fill your mind with pictures that nurture your creativity. Fall is a perfect time for this to happen. 

Then again, reality sets in. To get to these places, one has to travel to them. And there’s the rub. Several other people take these roads to travel also. Some are trying to get to destinations that inspire, just like we do. Others do their daily grind to get to work or get home, catch a plane, get wherever they are going as fast as they can, and ignore the scenery around them. That would include ignoring other cars on the road, too. 

Then, all the construction zones add discordant sounds and sights of chaos. 

If you’re lucky, you can find a radio station that provides calming music that lets you tune out those sounds and focus on the beauty around you. Of course, that presumes that if you are not traveling alone, everyone traveling with you agrees on what music they consider calming. 

As the hours pass, thoughts drift to safety and comfort concerns. “Why is this taking so long?” “Next time, we are not taking this route!” “Pull over at the next rest stop,” which is undoubtedly 13 miles away. 

The season’s beauty does not become the major focus of this road race. The focus is “Are we there yet?”

John Denver had it right. “Country roads take me home to a place I belong. Off the highway, without traffic. Take me home on country roads. There’s got to be a better way.

Beam me there, Scotty. It would be much more enjoyable. 

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A Timely Event

Posted on November 2, 2023 by hdh

A Timely Event

As a time historian, it is essential to verify historical events and facts presented to others in books, on newscasts, and through other sources of information distribution, such as social media. Therefore, since November, I decided to go back in time and check out what happened on November 12, 1993. 

My time machine, being a little glitchy, set the right parameters for me and then sent me back to 1993. Unfortunately, I discovered that though the book Chicken Soup for the Soul was published that day, it was different than the year that Chicken Soup for the Soul Day was officially started. I knew that November 12th was Chicken Soup for the Soul Day; look it up if you doubt me (https://nationaltoday.com/chicken-soup-for-the-soul-day). I had yet to learn when Chicken Soup for the Soul Day was started. 

So, instead, I decided to check out the validity of whether or not chicken soup is actually a benefit for your soul.

My first interview was with Mrs. Gertrude Goldstein. She was purported to be a chicken soup expert of the highest ranking, according to the people in the neighborhood. 

“What is your opinion on Chicken Soup being a healer of everything?” I asked.

“Vell, all I can say,” she replied, “is that as She, who is my witness, says so. So it must be so.”

“And who is this she?” I responded, thinking that the “She” Mrs. Goldstein mentioned would be some deity.

“My Bubbe, of course, you would call her my grandmother. Would you like some chicken soup with matzo balls?” 

“No, thank you. Thanks for your time. I’m on the clock and must move on.” 

My next stop was at a local religious establishment, where I looked to talk to one of the lead people in running the place. He called himself The Right Reverend Roger Dimpwiler. 

I asked, “Do you have time to talk about Chicken Soup for the Soul?”

“Time, who has time to talk about a soul? The Soul is so much more than time.”

He then went on for about 45 minutes telling me about human souls, animal souls, and I believe he even talked to me about shoe souls. It turned out he was the Wrong Reverend to speak to, as he was a Reverend in training and was just practicing sermons. Personally, I would have failed him. 

Before I could find another person to interview, my time machine took me back to an undisclosed location in another time period. 

I did manage to figure out that I was in New York City on November 11, 1918, at 11:00. I gave up and set the machine to take me back home; after all, nothing of importance that I know of happened on that date. 

 

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Running on Empty

Posted on October 19, 2023 by hdh

Running on Empty

I started teaching in 1973. I was a permanent substitute teacher in a 6th grade class in the Three Village School district. The five months I taught there allowed me to see what it was like working with kids and grade-level teachers in a natural school setting. 

I did okay there. I learned a lot about my capabilities as a teacher and colleague. I was idealistic and had lofty goals. 

The following year, I was offered two jobs. One to continue as a full-time teacher in Three Village in their open wing or as a full-time Middle School sixth-grade teacher in the newly merged school district of Shoreham-Wading River. I chose the latter and taught there for 33 years. 

Each year I taught, I always learned new things. My first two years were in a different building from the rest of the Middle School since the High School had yet to be completed, and they needed room for 9th and 10th graders until it was completed. 

Back then, we had fewer mandates than today. The sixth grade spent lots of time meeting to develop our curriculum, as most of the NY State Curriculum was only recommended. 

My second class in SWR was great. It had a few problems, but on the whole, I had a good year.

Then came our move to the Middle School…my tenure year. Things took a turn in the wrong direction for me. I had several disagreements with my 6th-grade colleagues and ended up choosing to break away and do math only with my class and not collaboratively with the other seven sixth-grade teachers. In hindsight, that was a mistake. It added a lot more planning for me to do by myself. I still worked with the other teachers in other areas.

I also had a different social studies program. I was working on my Master’s in Elementary Education Curriculum. I developed a social studies curriculum that dealt with American history using the theme of the History of Communication as my final project. Again, more work for me to do on my own. 

Then there was my class make-up. As good as my class was the year before, this class had a lot of issues. There were a lot of power and control issues throughout the year. There were different learning styles and levels, different emotional needs to be met, and different cliques within the class that kept working against things I tried to do. One group I nicknamed “The Grand Alliance”. There was actual fighting, name-calling, and refusal from some to do work.

I remember one point in December while the class was off to specials; I went into the 6th-grade classroom next to mine in tears and said to my colleague, “I can’t do this anymore.”

That night, I wrote in my journal, “I’ve semi-decided that teaching will not be my lifelong profession. It can be too frustrating and not as rewarding as one could wish.”

I was running on empty.

Luckily, the year improved by the end, though not by much. I learned more about their positive feelings about me on the last day of school than I had all year. Interestingly, I’m Facebook friends with almost half of the students from that class.  

I would have done much better if I had had this class later in my teaching career. Experience is a good teacher. And as I said, I did teach for another 30 years after that, and I still teach when possible. 

I’m glad I stuck it out.

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It Can Be Done

Posted on October 14, 2023 by hdh

It Can Be Done

He opened his hands slowly. Knowing that the power within takes time to appear. His mind cleared as he focused on the task at hand. 

The world was in a jumble. There was no sense of calm. There was no sense of logic. Everyone was out for themself. Empathy had been lost. Compassion was non-existent. Guidance was needed, but the powers that be would not work together. 

There was no right or wrong. It could be defined as a simultaneous monologue. Would someone please listen?

He knew what was happening all around him. He tried to understand what was going through people’s minds. But it was complicated: too many thoughts, too much disparity, too little time.

As his mind began to focus, he could feel the energy flowing through his body towards his hands. 

A normal person would shake and shiver, but he stood firm. And at the appropriate time, he released that energy into the world. The world stopped. 

People stopped in their tracks. Rain falling from the sky froze in mid-air. Birds stopped chirping, and the wind ceased. The world went dark no matter what time zone you were in, whether daytime or nighttime, all went completely dark. 

Then came the words that formed the question. They were simple words that needed no explanation but were simultaneously heard in everyone’s mind. “Reflect…Is this what you want?”

Silence reigned, and everyone reflected. I’m unsure if he guided those reflections or if everyone came upon them independently. But they all thought about a time when they had worked together, a time when they did listen, a time when they were happy. For some, it was a single instance; for others, it was an extended time period. But they reflected.

Again, the silence was broken in their minds with one thought, “It can be done. It’s up to you.”

He opened his eyes and closed his hands. As he did so, the world turned again. People moved, the rain fell, the birds chirped, and the wind gently blew. 

What happened next is unknown. For you see, I wasn’t there. I only heard about it as a story from long ago. I would like to think that it all worked out. 

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A Tale of Fashion

Posted on October 12, 2023 by hdh

A Tale of Fashion

“Did you hear about the latest fashion?” she said.

“Let me guess,” he said, “Could it be a tuxedo?”

“Wow,” she said, “how intuitive you are. Of course, it’s not a tuxedo. Everyone wears those.”

“It’s our native costume,” he replied.

“That is why it’s not a new fashion. This has to do with your feet.”

“What about our feet? We don’t wear anything on our feet.” 

“That’s true, but don’t your feet always get cold?” she said.

“A…We walk on ice.” was his reply.

“That’s true, but what if you could put something on your feet so they wouldn’t be cold?”

“And how would we do that? We don’t have any hands.”

“These slip on, you just put your feet into them,” she said, getting a bit frustrated. “What do our kids do when they get cold?”

“They put their cold feet on top of ours?” he replied questioningly. Their feet stay warm, and ours get cold on top and bottom.”

“Their feet do stay warm. So what if you could have something warm to put your feet on?”

“I guess that would work, but where would you find something like that?”

She replied, “It just so happens that I found an open crate by the place where all the ships come in filled with these foot warmers. Everybody’s wearing them now.”

“Seriously,” he said, “and the people there don’t mind.”

“It doesn’t seem so. They all laugh and take pictures of us.”

“They always do that. Why are they laughing?”

She said, “There is a problem with wearing these foot warmers.”

“And that would be?” he questioned

“They are very slippery when we walk. Oh yeah…they tend to slip off when we dive to get supper. I think that’s why they laugh.”

“I think I’ll pass on the ‘slippers,’ if you know what I mean.”

“You’re so old-fashioned,” she said. “Get with the times. You’re only a penguin once you know.”

“I know, and I like uniformity, not fashion. A penguin is what a penguin is. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Suit yourself,” she said.

“ I will. There’s nothing wrong with a tuxedo,” he replied, “look around and you’ll see.”

 

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Life without technology

Posted on October 5, 2023 by hdh

Your life without a computer: what does it look like?

I wrote about this topic in 2017 https://www.hdhstory.net/Storyblog/?p=778.

Here’s an excerpt from my piece

 

Suppose there was some solar storm, worldwide blackout, super lightning strike or something like that, that shorted out computer power supplies. And to make this interesting, your tablets and phones, once the battery drained, couldn’t be recharged, so no longer worked. What would happen?

The biggest implication would not be whether or not you could handle the lack of computers, but the worldwide implication of what computers do to run our lives. Think of national defense, traffic control (both on the ground and in the air), many of our appliances, communication, as well as our electronic health records (which are mandated by law) use computer technology. These are issues that would be catastrophic. Our own little problems of having no computers would not be the problem, true survival might be the bigger issue.

So let’s scale back on our computer shutdown issue. Suppose all of the global things do work, it is only our personal devices that are affected. Could you live without them, and if so, for how long.

I have an advantage over the large population. I’m old enough to have lived quite a long time prior to all of these things being invented. I got my first computer (Apple //e) in 1983. I was 33 years old. So I have been able to survive without computers through some of my adulthood years. Things like writing and research and reading books, I would be able to do without much difficulty. I would definitely miss the speed and amount of information that I can retrieve and of not being able to have the books and writing I’ve done always at hand. I would probably take more walks outside and put more energy into things like writing and storytelling. Unfortunately most of my life I have been around televisions so I would still watch TV unless that was gone too. In that case, I might suffer a bit more withdrawal. But I think I could do it.

One could ask, that if I thought I could do it, would I be willing to go cold turkey for a length of time, such as a week to prove it. The answer would be, “No”. I have no need to prove myself.

What about the rest of you?  A large number of you have only known life with computers and technology. Your lives are built around its use. Unless you are living in some Amish country or anti-tech commune, your experiences without technology are very limited. What would you replace your gizmo’s with? How would you spend your time? Could you do it, for any length of time?

What’s interesting is that I’m not the only person to think about this topic. I googled the question, “ What would life be like without computers?” This is the number of hits Google got in 0.69 seconds: About 124,000,000 results.  Try it yourself.

And what if computers had never been invented, where would we be all today? Your guess is as good as mine.

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