Our Town

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Our_Town

One year the High School Drama Club staged “Our Town” by Thornton Wilder.  In previous years they had performed ambitious edgy projects (The Crucible and Inherit the Wind).  Those may have been too edgy for a rural town where the local movie theater showed one movie on weekends only and at only one show time.

Thornton Wilder

This play, however, requires minimal staging and props.  It does require serious thought, about serious subjects.  Wilder once said that it is a small play about big ideas. 

 “Our Town”:  it could actually have been a story about our own town.  Small town, church picnics, choir practice, sweethearts, gossip and town secrets, etc.  This was the grist and gristle of small town life.  The performances at my school were well received and praised.  

The main character is Emily Webb, whose life we follow through each act.  In Act III, she dies in childbirth.  She is granted her desire to review one day of her life, and she chose her twelfth birthday.  In her memory, that day was the best day of her life.

At the age of 16, I watched and wondered why-the-heck-did-she-choose-that-day?  Now, I wonder what day I would choose.  For that matter, if I could go back in time and spend time with someone, talking and asking questions, whom would I choose?  What day?  

What about you?  What day would you choose?  Who is important enough in your life that you would want to see?  Would this person be one from history, or your experiences?

Note:  If you would like to view the movie, visit this archive site.

Here's to a Midwest Publisher

One of many titles

Scanning through old books at antique stores is something that gives me joy.  Holding a well-used book and appreciating the hands that once turned pages fills me with happiness. 

Sometimes I find a real winner, like The Ideas of a Plain Country Woman.  The writer (The Country Contributor) preferred to remain anonymous, although she had written articles for Ladies Home Journal.  Her observations and honesty are rare now, let alone in her times, circa 1909.

And other times my finds are true disappointments.  The Farm Animals on Strike by A. H. E. Hoosier, published in 1923 by A.Flanagan Company, Chicago, Illinois, is one of these.    I tried to read it, but the book was an ill-disguised lesson on proper treatment of farm animals.  When the animals were speaking, it was entertaining.  But the moment a human started dialogue, the sentences were blogged down in verbosity.

One of many titles.

The thing is I truly wanted a real gem here, and in a way, I got more than I had hoped. 

There is a library card pocket glued on the inside cover. Taken from Port Allen Library, librarian’s peculiar cursive states the author, title, and book number.  The book was checked out on Feb. 5, 192-, by Jackie Forbes, followed by Patrice and Randy.  Tucked into the book are two 3X5 index cards.  One side of each has been mimeographed (remember that??) “Superintendent’s Check-Out Card”.

One of many titles

The teacher, Hazel E. Pine, was clearly closing down the school year, doing the mundane paper work which required that every book be accounted for and returned.  Necessary, but mundane work.

So, here I am, holding this old book.  I went to an archived site (included beneath the pictures) and found a collection of educational books published by A. Flanagan and other publishers.  Each book is accessible for on-line reading.  Definitely worth checking out, especially Mistakes in Teaching.  

Not exactly a gem, but maybe a gold mine from the past?

Fate in the Sock Drawer

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The occupants of Sock Drawer saw this coming.  All the indicators were present, and doom was inevitable.  

Clustered together in the dark recesses of the Sock Drawer, whispers and muted conversations rose from the worried pairs.  Gold Toes and Ankle Crews rolled into little balls and hid in the dark corners.

Whenever a pair of socks reached “Favored Socks” status, it was only a matter of time before the end would come.  This would be the fate of the Neon Green Sport Socks.

Hard wearing and dryer heat were a sock’s mortal enemies. 

It was barely noticeable at first, but tiny holes began to appear.  Thin patches on the reinforced heels and rips along the double-stitched toes were the tell-tale signs.  The Neon Greens acknowledged this.

When they returned from the dryer time, the Neon Greens called the Sock Drawer inhabitants together.  All gathered around the Greens to say their good-byes.  

Lint was shed in copious amounts and static electricity charged each one as the Greens touched their worn toes to others.  Spandex to wool, cotton to mixed blends, without words farewells were expressed.

The next time the Neon Greens left the drawer would be their last.

Such is the fate of all well-loved, well-worn socks.

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