018 Lefties

Left Handed in a Right-Handed World

Scientists identify and study different functions of the left and right halves of our brain.  The left brain controls the right side and the right half controls the left body side.  Thus, the old tired joke that “left-handed people are in their right minds.” 

Moreover, science validates that the right side of the brain influences and deals with big picture concepts and complex relationships. Some psychological studies suggest that this helps lefties with multi-tasking and with dealing with many different kinds of people and personalities. We’re a versatile group!

Looking at left-handed studies on the internet, the statistic for being left handed is as low as 8% or as high as 30% depending on the criteria used.  My criterion is that left handedness means to write with and/or use the left hand for manual tasks.  Studies do not even agree when hand preference appears.  Some say at birth; others say as late as four years old.  

Okay.  First grade.  The  

teacher shall remain 

nameless.  She was

was not a favorite. 

My paper turned

the wrong way.  I  

didn't hold the

right. (Remember

those big, fat, over-

sized dark-red pencils?) 

And there were those desks made for right-handed little people.  So there I am, hunched in my desk to get my left hand situated to work, and an adult hand turns me and my paper to suit her.  This was not an auspicious start to school.  

Thank goodness, my father was a leftie who had been “ruler smacked” to become right handed. (Nobody, not even his mother, could read his writing which looked like the proverbial dead chicken had walked across the page.)

The primary grades did not get a lot better.  Good thing I loved to read.  Artsy crafty projects were not my strong suit.  My thumb did not fit in the scissors and their blunt blades did not help cutting either.  The only good thing about cutting and pasting was the smell of the purple mimeograph fluid and that white paste. 

A couple of final words about school days.  The outside of the left hand will always be dirty – silvery from pencil or smeared with ink. 

Notebooks all had the spiral edge or staples on the left side. Some progress is being made as now one can order left-handed notebooks and scissors. 

                                                                                     

Left handedness has some advantage in some sports.  Lefties psych out their opponents with a seemingly “wrong hand” image opposing them. “Southpaws,” as they are sometimes called, seem to be better than average pitchers. Warren Spahn, Whitey Ford, Tom Glavine and even Babe Ruth pitched a few left handed games. To baseball fans, big names!

There is, however, no advantage that I could find with power tools. [More left handers lose fingers in accidents with tools than right handers said a report from Baylor University.] There is certainly no advantage to being a lefty with a can opener or even our Keurig coffee machine with the buttons on the right side.  Forget ironing.  I have knocked many an iron off the ironing board by tangling the cord.  

And then there are the string musicians.  Bless their hearts.  Learn to play right handed or get your instrument restrung. Those are your options!

We American left handers are luckier though than those living in Africa and much of the Far East:  It is offensive to do anything with your left hand except in your bathroom.  Don’t pass food or eat with the left hand.  Don’t wave either or hail a cab with the left hand.  You will be considered unclean and carry a cultural stigma like a big scarlet letter L on your chest.  

This stigma goes a long way back in history.  “Left” harks back both to the Anglo-Saxon “lyft” meaning weak and to “sinistra” from the Latin with all the connotations of sinister attached.  Think about the boss introducing his “right hand man.” 

Annoying, too, are the looks and remarks from friends, relatives and acquaintances. Yes, if I sit beside you at dinner, I might knock elbows with you at some point.  I will say, “Sorry,” and you will ask, “Are you left handed?”  

This pie chart describes 

usual comments better than I.

There is now a National Left-Handers Day celebrated on August 13.  If you, too, are left handed, know that you are in interesting company:  Benjamin Franklin, Albert Einstein, Henry Ford, Mozart, Mark Twain, Fred Astaire, Bill Gates (and John Dillinger, O.J. Simpson, and Fidel Castro) are just a few in a long list of famous names.

Glenne           

017 Sept 11 Museum

Going back to the Twin Towers site

September 11 Memorial Museum

A recent visit to the September 11 Memorial Museum in lower Manhattan in New York City was something we wanted to do but dreaded.

We quickly discovered the representation of one of the most horrendous events in the history of the United States was well done with a factual account interlaced with compassion and feeling.  

We walked in the remnants and columns of the original foundation and the footprint where the majestic Twin Towers of the World Trade Center had stood. We walked near a portion of the Versey Street “Survivors Stairs” which thousands used to survive the monstrous attacks.

A wall of photos with interactive computer terminals held images of those who lost their lives that day, not only in New York City, but also at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. and 
in a field in Pennsylvania, as well as a previous attack on the towers in 1993. 

We searched and found the photos and information about Clarke County residents, Bud and Dee Flagg, who were on the plane that crashed into the Pentagon. We had known them through mutual friends and shared the loss of two great community members. 

The atmosphere was somber but not oppressive. It told the story exactly as we remembered with news clips, artifacts, and many video accounts. An ambulance that had sped to the towers to assist is part of the exhibit to display the magnitude of the damage.

The Twin Towers before 9/11

Our visit was very moving as we remembered the many 
times we had visited the Twin Towers when we drove
to the Big Apple a couple of times each year. 

We would start our visit after a five-hour drive, pulling into a parking lot or if lucky into an on-street spot near the Towers. We trekked to the buildings in search of a cup of coffee and then headed to the elevators to reach the top.

Often we walked around on the top floor which had windows encircling the space. Writing on the glass would point out the highlights of the city. The Statue of Liberty in the harbor reminded me of my Italian grandparents who had entered the country through Ellis Island more than 100 years ago. 

On a clear, windless day the outside deck was open and you could walk on top of the building --- an amazing feeling. I would stay in the center of the walkway with a brave face not to show any fear of heights. I thought of the French man who walked on a high-wire between the towers in 1974 and how brave he had to be to perform such an incredible feat.

When the terrorist attack took place that horrible day, 9-11-2001, we were stunned, shocked, dismayed, and perturbed by the sheer magnitude of what we watched unfold. We had stood on those very floors that came tumbling down in a matter of minutes.

My husband wanted to go the weekend after the attacks, but I did not think it was a good idea. We waited a few months before going back. We visited many times after the attacks, watching as the work a the site progressed.

I had accompanied a high school student tour many years ago and we took the students to the World Trade Center. We arrived on a Friday afternoon and were absolutely amazed at the mass of humanity streaming from the floors of the center. That image stayed with me as I watched the attacks unfolding and the horrible aftermath and thought of those thousands of people trying to get out.

This summer, we knew it was the right time to visit the museum. We went online and got tickets for the Saturday morning we would be there. We were first in line when it opened.

It is a grim reminder of what can happen in this period of history as terrorist attacks have become more common, but also a beacon of hope that we can rebuild as the new tower recently opened. 

The attacks did not stop this country and did not ruin us. We keep on and never fade. One of the greatest cities in the one of the greatest countries in the world survived and is even stronger.

For more info, visit 911memorial.org.

Frances C. Lowe

017 Grapenuts?

Who Moved My Grape-nuts?

Back when I was a librarian in academic libraries and wrote to achieve tenure and promotions, I wrote an article about the research on “you-are-here” maps (known in research circles as YAH maps—everything is an acronym). The late cartoonist Tom Wilson did many, many cartoons of Ziggy standing in front of YAH maps. My favorite was the one in which the map was upside down to the correct view from Ziggy’s perspective so he was standing on his head to read it. 

Anyway delving into this research led me to the psychology studies about individuals developing mental maps of their environment in order to make their way through it. That research led me further down the path of arcana to the world of research about how to design grocery stores and the placement of products within them to get people to spend more money and to buy a specific product. Really!

When I discovered that all Post cereal products had been moved from the front of the row to the back in my local grocery store, I could imagine some young whippersnapper market researcher’s findings on my Grape-nuts: “Our research has shown that only old people buy Grape-nuts. They are pulling down our entire product line. Supermarkets are moving Post cereals to the back of the store.”

Actually Grape-nuts have been around since 1897. In 1933, Post Grape-Nuts sponsored Sir Admiral Byrd’s expedition to Antarctica. Grape-nuts was part of soldiers’ rations in the South Pacific during World War II since the cereal survived jungle conditions easily. Many of us remember Grape-nuts sponsoring the Andy Griffith Show with Andy and Don Knotts plugging the cereal during commercial breaks. 

But do you see any commercials for traditional Grape-nuts now-a-days? Look at today’s Cheerios commercials. They are celebrating their history. Of course, they have babies with Cheerios in plastic bags, a market that keeps being reborn! Chex cereals have a multitude of flavors and most are gluten free. Tony the Tiger is still going strong. I am afraid Post is letting my cereal die a natural death. 

If you go to the Post page, there are plenty of marketing angles there: “Grape-Nuts is packed full of goodness. Made with all natural ingredients and fortified with vitamins and minerals, a half-cup serving of Grape-Nuts Original cereal is an excellent source of fiber and provides 100% of your day’s whole grains.” 

http://postfoods.com/our-brands/grape-nuts/our-story

We like Grape-nuts because of the whole grains and because it adds a great crunch to morning yogurt. Just as in the jungle, it doesn’t get soggy in yogurt. When I talk Grape-nuts to others, everyone mentions the crunch and that it is a great topping for many things. Market that!

At one time Grape-nuts was the seventh-most popular cereal in the country. According to Wikipedia, it held less than 1% of the market in 2005. There is so much diversity in the cereal market now from breakfast bars to granola to a plethora of hot cereals that all market shares have diminished.

But Grape-nuts should continue . . . Don’t let me find myself in the grocery store:

Trish         

015 MAX

MAX

Max is our seventh Schnauzer. He’s a two-year-old neutered male and our first white Schnauzer. He is a master manipulator with the biggest heart in the world. Max is a people person and an extrovert with an incredible amount of energy.  He thinks being with “his people” is the most fun a dog can have. He wants to be with us 24/7. This includes the bathroom and the bedroom. 

"Your blanket?  Huh?

"I hear something!"

He is spunky and does not know that he is smaller than the female Chow who lives across the road. He is a great guard dog. His bark alerts us to guests, the UPS man, the oil delivery, and the wind blowing, the squirrel who ran up the tree, shadows under the night light on the garage. In his two years, he has earned the sobriquet Mad Max. 

Max is stubborn and intelligent. I swear he understands what I am telling him. But really, really stubborn! Sometimes he looks at you and continues doing what he wants. It’s like he put paws over his ears and sang “la la la – I can’t hear you.” Most of the time, though, he follows every command. 

Remember that Schnauzers are terriers and bred to be ratters. The instinct is still there. Max, at about six months old, brought us a still wiggling, tiny field mouse locked between his jaws. Tried to coax him to let go; grabbed a plastic bag to try to extract said field mouse not yet dead. NOPE! Max sits back on his haunches and swallows it – whole and wiggling. Gross! We watched him all evening waiting for some sign of gastric distress. No problem. Okay, so creatures don’t upset his stomach – how about a tube of Preparation H? Nope, no problem there either. Apparently the door under the bathroom sink was not tightly closed. Wondered what the sticky stuff was on the floor. Max was discovered on OUR BED chewing on the tube. Again, gross. Again, no problem.

"Got in a LOT of trouble!"

Max’s haunches are like solid rocks. This means he can leap and bound wherever and whenever he wants. Up on the table in the office to get snacks out of the dog biscuit jar. We have to put food up higher than he can jump or it is gone. 

 He does not like, however, noodles. I brought home take-out beef stroganoff and put it on the kitchen counter. I made the mistake of answering the phone. When I went back to the kitchen, the Styrofoam container was on the floor with the noodles plastered to the bottom of the box and on the rug, but all the beef and gravy was gone. Max sat and smiled. I swear he smiled! Not long ago he walked by my husband sitting in his easy chair with newspaper on his lap and half a sandwich in his hand. Yep, snatched that sandwich and bounded out the house! "I am sorry; I really am!"

"I am sorry; I really am!"

So, you are getting the idea that this is one poorly trained, bad dog. In our defense, please remember he is our SEVENTH Schnauzer. We have trained and treated him as we have all those before him during 35 years of our marriage. But Max is different! He is greatly loved, but is often scolded, crated, and/or confined. After his time outs, he makes apologies worthy of a diplomat. He runs, leaps on you and hugs you around the neck with his two front paws. Or he lies on his back with all four feet in the air, his head cocked sideways with the “I know I was bad, but I love you” look, asking for a tummy rub.  

I looked up Schnauzer traits on the internet and found the same highlights from a number of sources: people-oriented, affectionate, noisy, protective, energetic, and destructive and not to be trusted around small objects or animals he can put in his mouth. Yes, even played with a black snake under the car! Max fits all of these personality traits. In his two years he has cost us money in replacement objects. 

We no longer purchase pillows with feathers!! 

But why is he so smart and yet so different from the gentle dogs before him. And he sheds. Never had a Schnauzer before who shed. Also, our vet has cautioned us that Max is over the height and weight limit for a purebred miniature Schnauzer - usually 14” tall and weigh between 17-20 lbs. Max, who weighed in at just four pounds when we brought him home, is now 17” tall and weighs 27 lbs! “Curiouser and curiouser.”

For my last birthday, my husband ordered a doggy DNA test as my gift.  And this is what

we found: Max’s mother and her five generation line is purebred Schnauzer. Someone did not install a Dogwatch fence for his father’s line. Back three or more generations the DNA showed GREAT PYRANEES and Wheaten Terrier and Shih Tzu and miniature Dachshund! Somebody played around! 


But whichever breed(s) played a part in creating “Mad Max,” we love this dog and he returns our affection with his own unconditional love.

Glenne    

014 NYC by accident

The Accidental NYC Tourists 

Since my husband bought a table saw in New York City--yes NYC-– he has had a passion for visiting the Big Apple. And of course I tag along. 

More than 25 years ago, he discovered Garrett Wade, a store on the lower end of Manhattan, that was the only one in the U.S. to sell a certain Swiss table saw. 

This is my husband using his table saw in

his shop, the Old Virginia Workshop in

Winchester, VA.  This one, also bought in NYC,

is a newer version of the original Swiss saw.

He had to check it out and thus began a pilgrimage to the island that has continued through this year and hopefully beyond. 

Driving in the city was never questioned. We just got in the car early on a Saturday morning and headed north. Sometimes we felt like a cab sandwich as we were surrounded by the yellow speed demons, but that didn’t stop us. 

We would arrive about 10 a.m. and either head to the hardware store or the World Trade Center for coffee. The city was already alive with delivery trucks, making their usual rounds, and taxis gearing up for a busy day.

Parking could be a challenge--sometimes we lucked up and found a spot on the street but more likely in a lot. We made the most of being on the lower end of the island often taking in sights, including Battery Park. 

We adapted the philosophy of hiking Manhattan, comparing it to hiking the mountains near our home in the Shenandoah Valley, with comfortable shoes a must to traverse the island. I laminated a map of the Big Apple at least 20 years ago and never leave home without it when aiming for NYC.  The creases and folds have deepened with age.

As we became more familiar with the iconic city, we had favorite spots we would frequent. Sometimes we walked from the hardware store near Canal Street and the Avenue of the Americas to Little Italy on Mulberry Street.

Little Italy has been a favorite spot when we would visit the city---at least once a year and sometimes more. My family was from Italy so the area is appealing as restaurant employees stand on the street and beckon visitors with specials on the menu. We always have a great experience with superior breads and pastas as well as a street fair atmosphere.

After lunch, we usually head uptown where our hotel was usually located and turn the car over to the valet. My husband would scour websites for good deals. Before websites were commonplace, he would actually make phone calls to secure a room. When we found one we liked, we would frequent it until prices went up or if service declined.

The highlight of the hotels was a stay at the Waldorf-Astoria. My husband found that special in The Washington Post travel section. Especially memorable was when we were waiting on our car along with actor and singer Robert Goulet.  We played it cool and did not bother him for an autograph, but it is something we will never forget.. 

Walking across the Brooklyn Bridge, lighting many candles at St. Patrick’s Cathedral on Fifth Avenue, watching the ice skaters at Rockefeller Center, trekking through Central Park---are just a few of the activities we couldn’t miss when we made the drive from Virginia.


Taking in a movie at The Paris Theatre on 58th Street near The Plaza Hotel is one of my favorite pursuits. 

It is like a trip back in time with one screen as the the theaters of our childhood and teenage years. Seats  of velvet-like fabric are worn but reminiscent of bygone days. Cost is close to movie prices anywhere and the popcorn is great. Movies are of the artsy-type which are hard to come by in many communities. 

Broadway plays are part of the plan especially if there is one we just have to see. If not, we line up at TKTS in Times Square to see what is available. “Rocky” was an entertaining musical this summer with unusual audience participation.

We had the chance to take two of the grandchildren along with their parents a couple of years ago at Christmas time. With six people, the best option was tickets on the off and on tour bus---we covered the whole island seeing many places we had missed before. They loved it as we would hop off when we wanted to visit an area and back on to continue the journey. The American Girl Place on Fifth Avenue was a very special destination and did not disappoint.

This summer, the two of us made the drive again, taking in our usual haunts.

On the left, I meet Lester Holt--not a good shot
of me.  On the right filming of the Today Show.

Sunday morning we found our way to the TODAY show, where I got to meet, shake hands, and have a picture taken with my favorite newscaster Lester Holt. 

There is always something new to see and usually a few surprises including filming crews for movies or commercials. For those who hesitate to visit NYC, don’t. It is exciting, thrilling, and invigorating. Costs can be kept down by not spending a great deal on food by finding corner stores and local restaurants to frequent, and my husband can always find an Irish pub. There is a pizza place and a Star Bucks almost on every block. 

And don’t miss taking a taxi. It is as thrilling as a ride at an amusement park and will get you to your destination in record time.

Who would have thought two Logan County, West Virginia natives---from the deep mountains near the border of Kentucky, Hatfield and McCoy territory---would have ever become city savvy. All of these wonderful experiences happened because my husband just had to check out a table saw he wanted in a hardware store in NYC. Go figure.

Frances C. Lowe      

013 Seventy times

Winchester Occupied

Any visitor to Winchester who is interested in the Civil War (and probably many who aren’t), has heard that Winchester changed hands over 70 times during the war.

There were quite a few local diarists who kept track of who was in town. Why did it matter so much to keep track? Because even if the military units that followed each other through town were from the same side, the rules of occupation were not the same. Inhabitants had to know the rules about walking the countryside to get produce, about whether their homes would be appropriated, about how to get food and clothing, about getting the mail, and so on.

There are many poignant descriptions of the occupations of Winchester. One that particulary strikes me is from Cornelia McDonald, who lived at Hawthorne on Amherst Street during most of the year.  She told of sitting outside her house, using it to protect her and her children from artillery shelling during 2nd Winchester in June 1863. All around her on the porch are her enemies—Union soldiers—who are also sheltering from cannon fire:

“ . . . [the Union soldiers] avail themselves of the only spot the shells did not reach, the angle of our house. I retreated there with my children when the shot and shells began to fly so fast, and burst all around the house; then as I sat on the porch bench, men came crowding in. Now a surgeon bringing in a wounded man . . . I tried to comfort the wounded man who sat on the bench by me, but he was past comfort; a ball was lodged in his throat and he sat with his poor wretched face distorted by pain through all those weary hours. . . . All the while the batteries thundered, and the booming of the cannon, the screaming of the shells (who has heard that scream can ever forget it?), and the balls of light go shooting over our heads, followed by that fearful explosion.”     pp.157-158, A Woman’s Civil War.

Winchester and Frederick County natives often debate whether 70 times is correct.

It is true. The city did not change from Confederate to Union 70 times but it was occupied by different troops of soldiers at least that many times. In fact, I heard a speaker this weekend at Shawnee Springs say Winchester changed hands 84 times. I have not heard that number before.

We know about the many occupations of the town from the diaries kept by many local women, some who were Southern sympathizers while others supported the Union. In an often reprinted 1955 publication of the Winchester-Frederick County Historical Society, Diaries, Letters & Recollections of the War Between the States, Lewis N. Barton wrote an article that went through Julia Chase’s diary and listed each troop occupation that she had recorded. I counted and there were at least 70.

Winchester was, and is, at the center of roads leading to Washington, Richmond, Maryland and Pennsylvania so it was advantageous to hold it. When Lee went to Gettysburg, it was part of his supply and retreat line. Winchester was too close to Washington for Lincoln’s comfort and many attempts were made to take it.

But with many roads intersecting, mountain passes nearby, and multiple hilltops suitable for artillery placement, Winchester was difficult to hold.

In the fall of 1863, after the Battle of Gettysburg in July of that year, here is what life was like for civilians in Winchester:

“September 19    Federal Cavalry passed through town.
  September 25   Confederate Cavalry occupied Winchester.
  October 8         Imboden with 800 cavalry [Confederate] passed through town.
  October 13       Federal Cavalry passed through town.
  October 13      Confederate Cavalry passed through town.
  October 16      Confederate Cavalry in Winchester.
  October 18      Federal Cavalry in Winchester.
  October 20      Federal Cavalry in Winchester.
  October 26      Confederate Cavalry in Winchester.
  October 27      Federal Cavalry made a raid into Winchester.”

Diaries, Letters & Recollections, p.11.

Silly, I checked the calendar for 1863 to see if October 13 was a Friday. It wasn’t, but for Winchester residents, every day must have felt like Friday, the 13th.  We are fortunate in this community to have so many diaries and recollections of the Civil War and you can see many in original or published form in the Stewart Bell Jr. Archives at Handley Library.

If you want to read one local diary, I recommend the book Winchester Divided, the Civil War Diaries of Julia Chase and Laura Lee, edited by Michael G. Mahon.  The narrative alternates day by day the accounts of Julia Chase, who was a Union supporter, and Laura Lee, who was a stanch Confederate. Local residents had no idea of what was going on outside their community as Julia and Laura illustrate in their entries. For example, Julia would say that the Union troops were nearby and coming to town while Laura said that “our boys” will be here for a long time since no Yankees were anywhere close. They really had no idea—only hope for their side!

Winchester is unique in the number of occupations. I have tried to imagine living through the war in Winchester but cannot. At times, the residents dealt with battles outside their home, with huge numbers of soldiers looking for food and housing, with sick and wounded filling every building in the city, and with many, many deaths. That is why changing hands 70 times matters.

Trish Ridgeway    

012 Reunion

The 50th reunion

It is ten p.m. on Saturday night at the George Washington Hotel. We committee members are packing up the memorabilia we displayed for our 50th class reunion. We are not hugging goodbye for we will be attending church together on Sunday morning. Our small class had only 75 members, 17 have passed away, but we had 47 at church! 

What to say about a reunion? Plenty! First, it is bittersweet to see our old classmates.  Many innocent memories and a few shameful events flash through the mind when you 

recognize someone you may not have seen for 20, 30, 40 or 50 years. I do wonder how many of the thoughts are accurate. Does the storytelling over the years embellish or omit details? I am guessing some of each. 

Our committee of 16 began meeting last spring. We looked at old pictures, told stories, and assigned members to find “lost” classmates. WE DID IT. We found them all spread out all over the country. We did the entire event planning necessary for a gala event weekend. When? Where? Accommodations? Activities? Etc., etc., etc. Got it all done.

I was impressed with the willingness and hours put in. Now we all have a DVD of grades 1-12 with a sound track that includes “Bali Ha’I” from the prom and, of course, “Pomp & Circumstance” for the end.

Some class members have gained over the years (money, weight, ex-spouses); some

Some of the reunion jokes do apply. 

others have lost over the years (hair, mainly). Some of the athletes (aka: jocks) don’t look nearly as good as the geeks do now. I have adapted sociological theory based on this. 

We know little girls mature faster than boys. The girls read earlier, are more polite, and well behaved. The boys did “stuff,” acted out, and got more attention. Hmmpf!  Eighth grade boys-- those few willing to dance at parties-- came about shoulder high to most girls. Girls talked on the phone--a lot--and had sleepovers. The boys were outside--being active. Geeks were essentially ignored. Seems it was not until after high school, that these folks turned into intelligent, interesting, taller people. But we were no longer in the same community when they matured. Seems too bad. We may have ignored some of the really great. No wonder high school angst is so high! 

So, here is my unsolicited advice to all our blog readers: 

GO to your reunion--whether you want to or not! It will be worth it. We are senior citizens even if we don’t feel like it. When I look in the mirror, I wonder how all years slipped away. We may not see these old classmates or recall the old memories ever again. According to the Bureau of National Health Statistics, our class is right on the actuarial table with 22% gone. That means that we need to embrace our “old” selves now. It is a scary truth, but some of us might not be here for the next reunion. While we may not be exactly the same as we were in high school, this is where we got our start, intellectual seeds were sown, and basic principles learned. So, please, Go! Celebrate life! Give homage to your past. Share your memories. 

In some cases, we aged
better than the photos!

I found the April 1964 agenda of our class’s senior trip to New York City. We left at 6:45 a.m. and took a bag lunch for the bus. Was there no fast food available? I even have the room assignments. On the trip I went to see “Funny Girl” on Broadway starring Barbra Streisand. She is somewhat of an icon to me still. 

As I remember this moment, I think of her song “The Way We Were.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?V=n-KPGhwysw 

 I believe the words will speak to you, too, as Barbra sings about how “mem’ries, light corners of my mind.”

Glenne White    

011 Interviewing Willie

A second chance from Willie Nelson

Reactions to meeting celebrities can be very unpredictable --- intense heart palpitations, quickening of breath, over-the-top comments gushing forward, as well as screaming and fainting.

I found out I don’t react that way at all when I had the opportunity to interview a famous singer.

Reporters working for small town newspapers don’t get too many chances to interview big-time celebrities. But lucky me, I was given such an assignment several years ago.

I was writing a preview story for a concert Willie Nelson was headlining in Winchester, Virginia. He was coming for the first Patsy Cline Classic, a concert held in honor of Winchester’s native daughter. He knew her, her husband, and wrote one of her hits, “Crazy.”

The local promoter gave my cell number to Willie’s manager and I was told I would get a call. Usually it takes a couple of days for a call to be made with a time decided and contact person making the call. At least that was the case with other big wigs I had interviewed---authors, newscasters, singers, etc. So I thought it will be days before I hear from him or his staff.

But that was definitely not the case this time.

My cell phone rang a few hours later after I had left work. I was headed to the check-out counter at the grocery store. The name of the caller popped up as private so I am thinking it is a telemarketer

It wasn’t. It was none other than the legendary singer himself, not a secretary or publicist to set up a time for the interview.

It definitely sounded like him with that distinctive voice, and he was calling me by name. “Frances, I heard you wanted to talk to me.”

I was so shocked and flabbergasted and totally thrown off balance I told him it was a bad time since I was at the grocery store and could he call me later.

Well, he said, he was busy that evening – he had a concert and it would be pretty late.

I thanked him and said I hoped to hear from him that evening.

(Did I really just tell Willie Nelson I was too busy?)

Once I hung up the reality of it set in, and I thought I’ll never get that interview. I kept my cell phone close by but no calls came from the celebrity I had told I was too busy to interview.

I began to beat myself up mentally for not taking advantage of the call -- who tells Willie Nelson she is too busy grocery shopping to talk to him!

I got no sympathy from family, friends, or co-workers, who didn’t hesitate to tell me how crazy I was and how foolish I had been.

I back tracked and talked to the local promoter to contact the publicist again and please, please ask for a reprieve and a second chance.

Several days passed and still no call. I was sleeping with the phone and kept my notepad and pencil with me every second of the day and night.

Finally, the phone rang and the word private popped up again. Could it actually be him?

Sure enough, Willie’s melodic voice answered. I immediately apologized. He said “You must have been pretty busy when I called before.”

The interview commenced as it should have the first time and I got the story. Willie was a true delight. Listening to the voice I had heard so often in song was a real thrill.

He gave me great information about his relationship with Patsy and her family, explaining that was why he was coming to this small town at the top of Virginia.

He was absolutely gracious and a real gentleman, especially after I had put him off the first time he called.

Several years later, a story showed up on the Associated Press wire about a reporter who frequently received calls from Willie. He elaborated on when the call came he never refused it often causing him delays and even missing flights. I realized then I was in some pretty good company.

I don’t know why I reacted as I did. It was a gut reaction that couldn’t be explained. If I had it to do over (which never happens of course), I would have sprawled on the floor of the grocery store, taken out my reporter’s pad, and started firing the questions.

But due to his really nice disposition and evidently forgiving nature, he gave me a second chance! I am eternally grateful.

Frances C. Lowe

010 Walking Tootsie

Just a-Walking the Dog

My dog Tootsie and I have been helping Frances map out walking trails in the area.

It is not difficult for me to get ready—clothes, shoes, hat, sunscreen, phone and I’m done. Gearing up Tootsie and me with all the puppy accoutrements is more difficult.

Tootsie checking out
poopy bags at PetSmart.

One necessity for modern-day dog walking is the poopy bag. You can buy rolls of bags and poopy bag holders at the pet store—designer colors and patterns, scented bags (good scents, I mean). Recyling grocery-store bags works for me. When I want a more designer look, I switch to a gray Walmart bag or a lovely yellow one from some other store. One important thing to check before you take the bag is to make certain it has no holes. Don’t try to imagine the consequences . . . Tootsie is a four-year old Jack Russell Terrier and a strong puller when we walk. It is hard to believe how much pulling strength a fifteen-pound dog has. Cesar Milan, famed television Dog Whisperer, states that the dog owner should be the pack leader and be in front of the dog. I bought a harness that has the lease connection on the front of the chest instead of the top of the dog’s back, which makes pulling impossible.

I consult the printed instructions before each walk because I do not have harness engineering background. Each time I try without the instructions, the harness is hanging loose around the side of her neck and Tootsie is in the alpha dog position again.

In the summer, of course, Tootsie needs water. I have a plastic bottle with an attached bowl. I fill that bottle from the tap, but I have a dog-walking buddy who gives her dog Juno, a Boston terrier, bottled water at home and on walks. I am not sure why because when we walk around her neighborhood, Juno stops at every drain and drinks as much standing water as he can before she can jerk him away! Maybe the expensive water helps rinse him out.

When it looks like it may rain, I take an umbrella for me. I used to put Tootsie’s raincoat in my pocket to use in a heavy rain. We were once caught in a downpour. I juggled my umbrella, the raincoat, Tootsie and her harness in the pouring rain and eventually got her suited up. She stood there in her cute pink raincoat and refused to move. I pulled the lease and dragged her a few inches, but she would not lift a foot off the ground. She now walks in all rain conditions in her natural fur coat.

I also need a pocket full of doggy treats for walks. My husband started this habit on his walks with Tootsie. Whenever anyone wants to pet her, he gives each person a yummy to give to Tootsie. I think she makes some people nervous. When anyone passes, she stops and gives them a fixed stare. I probably don’t help the dog-phobic when I say, “Watch out for Killer.” They must think she sees them as a tasty bite, but the hard stare merely signifies a hunt for doggie treat distributors. It does affect the speed of the walk since Tootsie insists we stop for every possible yummy distribution. I have to carry many treats.

Once we get moving, walks are fun with Frances leading the way as she seeks out new and different walking paths. Tootsie gets very excited when we pull up to a walking site as the video below shows.  Check her out on youtube:  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1pDPuch5KLc

I think Tootsie's favorite walking path is Third Winchester.  She also likes Shawnee Springs, Sherando Park, and the Clarke County park.  She is happy wherever we walk--as long as The Pack (Tootsie, Frances & Trish) stay together.

We are ready for out next excursion, Frances!