STORYTIME TAPESTRY

The Newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world

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Jan 19, 2006? 

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Today's Queue Stories
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? CHUBBY

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? Sharon Bryant

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"Hey, they've got some 45's on sale over at Federals, you want to go see what they got?" asked my friend Susie.?  "I've got to get some needles for my phonograph also," I said.

On Saturday, we both hopped on our bikes and rode the four miles to Federals to check out the latest 45's.

I had saved babysitting money so? we had enough to stop by Saunder's and have one of those delicious hot fudge cream puff's also.

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When we got to Federals, I was amazed at the selection of 45's.?  I grabbed "Soldier Boy" and "The Twist."

Susie got a couple for herself.?  I was bound and determined to get the dance "The Twist" down pact before the big dance at school the following week.

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Susie came over to my house one night and we put that record on my phonograph.?  We grabbed a couple towels from mom's linen closet and got ready to practice.?  We spent the evening rocking and rolling in my bedroom.?  We were ready for the dance.?  Chubby, here we come!

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American Bandstand was the big scene in those days.?  How I loved to watch that show.?  After all, all the latest hair do's were viewed and I was always looking for something different to do with my hair.

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It was the night before the dance.?  After supper dishes were done, I went to my bedroom to get ready for the next day for school.?  I grabbed my bag of rollers and began the tedious job of combing sections of my hair and rolling it with the wire bristles rollers.?  After I looked like I was wired for sound, I grabbed the can of Aqua Net and sprayed each roller.?  On the stand next to my bed was the roll of toilet paper.?  I slowly wrapped my head over and over with the soft tissue.?  I wasn't going to be up all night with metal pieces jabbing my head.

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The next morning I got up a good hour and a half early so I'd have time to "rat" my hair.?  I pulled the rollers out and was satisfied with the stiff curls all over my head.?  Everything was going to be fine.?  I combed, I "ratted my hair, I sprayed, I patted, and soon, I was ready.?  It would have taken a mighty strong wind to move one hair on my head.

I then went to my closet and decided I'd wear my plaid "kilt" skirt and a white blouse with a sweater to match the colors in my skirt.?  I slid my feet into a pair of "flats" that were in my closet, and in no time, I was ready.?  Ready for a day at school, and the dance that night.

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When I got to school, everyone was buzzing about the dance.?  Darlene asked, "Are you going to do 'The Twist' tonight when they play it?"?  "I sure am!" I replied, "and I'm READY!"?  It was tough sitting through biology, Science, English, Shorthand, and Typing with my thoughts on the dance.?  Yet at 3:00 P.M. the bell rang and I ran to the bus to hurry home, grab a bite to eat and wait for my dad to drive me to the dance.

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When I walked through the gym door, the room exploded with lights.?  Kids were everywhere.?  I laughed when I saw Denise standing over against a wall with a towel, practicing "The Twist."?  Everyone was ready for the big dance.

And then one of the teachers got on the stage and gave our usual pep talk about behavior, common sense, etc.?  The music began.?  It was a slow dance.?  I was waiting, my toes were ready, my shoes were hot, waiting for the big song.

Suddenly it began and every single kid in that gym ran out on the floor getting ready to Twist our lives away.

Chubby Checker's voice belted out through the large room and we were having the time of our lives.?  Pat Snider found his way in front of me and said, "Can I share this dance with you?"?  "Sure can," I said.?  He and I finished the dance together.

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We were teenagers.?  It was the 60's and life was good.? 

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Fast forward a few years.?  It's 1986.?  I'm at a club with my parents.?  The oldies are playing.?  I danced a slow dance with my father, when suddenly the music changed and Chubby Checker's voice belted out through the speakers.?  I giggled as I stepped back in time and remembered that night in my bedroom years ago with the towel teaching me the right way to twist.?  Dad looked at me and I said, "Can you do this?"?  "I'll try," he said laughing.?  He did great.?  We twisted the night away.

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Every time I hear that old song today, my mind goes back to many years ago.?  To a time of innocent youth, to great music and the Good Old Days.

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Sharon Bryant

1946 @bellsouth.net

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About Me:

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I am Sharon Bryant,? 59 years old and reside in Alabama. I lost my child in 1977 when he was five and I write articles on bereavement often. I am a chocolate/candy maker and also a wood crafter and knitter. I am married to a wonderful man, and have two remaining children, a daughter 26,
Amy, and a second son, Randy, age 24.

My main goal in life is to help those who
have lost a child. My website is: www.angelsremembered.tk

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~**~**~? 

? ValueSpeak

A Weekly Column

By Joseph Walker

valuespeak@msn.com

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WORLD SERIES IN YOUR EAR

I might have made it all the way through elementary school with a spotless citizenship record if not for the World Series.

I got along well with others. I was respectful to my teachers. I kept a relatively neat desk, and only once was I caught passing notes during class. I was not a troublemaker.

But when it came to the World Series I was incorrigible. Part of this may have been due to the fact that I was a Yankee fan. And part of it was a fascination with new technology that kept creating ever-smaller transistor radios and ever-more concealable earphones.

As I look back on it, though, the biggest element for me was just the challenge. Could I sneak a transistor radio into class and find a way to listen to the ball game without getting caught? While many boys huddled around pocked-sized transistors during the afternoon recess, only a few were bold enough to try to listen to the radio broadcast during class.

My first attempt during second grade was, in retrospect, pretty lame. My first transistor radio was just a little smaller than my math book, and it fit awkwardly in my desk. I didn??™t have an earphone ??“ I just tried to listen to the Yankees and Dodgers on the lowest possible volume. Even at that, I might have been able to get away with it had I not pounded on my desk in disgust when Sandy Koufax struck out Mickey Mantle. My radio slid out of my desk and clattered to the ground, spewing plastic parts and Eveready batteries. Miss Tuttle confiscated my radio and made me stay in during recess to write "I will not listen to the radio during class" 50 times.

The next year it was the Yankees and the Cardinals, and I was prepared with a smaller radio and a plastic-coated earphone. I didn??™t think Mrs. Campbell would notice the radio bulging in my shirt pocket or the wire running from my pocket to my ear. I was wrong. She picked up on my attempted subterfuge quicker than a Bob Gibson fastball, and I spent two recesses writing "I will not listen to the radio during class" 100 times.

By the time the World Series rolled around my fourth grade year I was determined to listen to a game without being caught. Never mind that the Yankees weren??™t in the Series ??“ I had worked out a plan that was almost as much of a sure thing as Koufax and the Dodgers against the Minnesota Twins. It had been launched the previous Christmas when I asked for the smallest transistor radio on the market. Then I had saved up my allowance money to purchase the longest earphone wire I could find and a roll of Scotch transparent tape.

On the day of The Big Game Albert met me in the boy??™s restroom during lunch recess. He helped me tuck my radio into the back of my pants. Then we wound the wire around my body under my shirt and t-shirt, applying tape so it wouldn??™t slip, then up the back of my neck into my hair, and then out under the back of my ear so the earpiece just barely fit in my ear. No dangly cords. No tell-tale radio bulge. It was perfect.

Even though I was pretty sure I didn??™t need to be perfect. My teacher was Miss Green, who was a wonderful teacher (and, OK, I??™ll say it: a babe). But she was young and Canadian. What did Canadians know about baseball? She probably didn??™t know what the World Series was, let alone that a game was being played during school hours. She wouldn??™t even be looking.

Game time was just a few minutes away when Miss Green asked Ron and I to go to the library to get one of the big, rolling, portable TVs. I couldn??™t believe my good fortune. The lights would be off, everyone would be concentrating on some dumb educational TV show and I??™d be on the back row listening to Koufax wax the Twins. And then during the afternoon recess I would go out on the playground and tell all the other guys how the game was going and how I??™d been listening to it all along. And I??™d be a hero!

"Class, we??™re going to have a special treat today," Miss Green said after we got the TV set up in her room. "Because you have all been working so hard and so well, we??™re going to take a little time off to watch the World Series!"

My heart sank as my classmates cheered. This couldn??™t be happening! I had finally concocted the perfect plan, only to have it scuttled by a . . . a . . . Canadian. Miss Green flipped on the TV and brought out several big bowls of popcorn. There was so much general commotion in the room that I didn??™t notice her standing next to me until she tapped on my radio earpiece.

"You can still listen to the game on your radio if you want," she said, smiling.

I pulled the earpiece out of my ear. There was no point in listening with permission. Instead I took out a piece of paper and began writing: "I will not listen to the radio during class."

Only this time I meant it.

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Those were the Days that Were

Claudia Kerens

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"The things that will destroy us are: politics without principle; pleasure without conscience; wealth without work; knowledge without character; business without morality; science without humanity; and worship without sacrifice." --Mahatma Mohandas Gandhi.

Since Gandhi spoke these words during one of his last hunger strikes prior to his death, one has to wonder if he wasn??™t more of a soothsayer. One cannot number the times that members of America??™s ???greatest generation??™ [WWII] say that they lived in the ???best of times.??™

Often that concept may stop a person in their tracks querying: ???What do you mean you lived in the ???best??™ of times????

There was a massive depression that resulted in starvation, suicides, deprivation, Oklahoma turned into a dust bowl plus these were very hard times; then to top that off there was a massive world war that resulted in the deaths of millions of people globally, and on the home front- gas rationing, meat rationing, sugar rationing, no tires to be had much less any new autos to put them on while the black market flourished around the world.

How could that possibly mean those were the best of times?

Then again, given the state of the 21st century, we can say we do have ???politics without principle, pleasure without conscience, wealth without work, knowledge without character, business without morality, science without humanity, and worship without sacrifice.???

Not only are people accused of rigging political elections- some accusations bleed over into rigging small town prom queen elections. To achieve pleasure without conscience, view all of the addictions that ensnare people resulting in harming them, others or even ending their lives- just the existence and the spread of HIV bespeaks the concept.

How many scam artists rip off others through fake investment schemes, behemoth stock trades among corporate CEOs that steal the retirements of employees, bookkeepers embezzling to a parent selling their child for a quick fix or the number of arsonists looking for insurance dollars to be gained just by lighting a match along with those who sue for millions because they were scalded by a hot cup of coffee placed between their knees?

Or, even worse, when natural disasters or acts of terrorism occur, some acting like victims, rip off the dollars given by some Americans in the hopes of helping other Americans get back on their feet isn??™t even sacrosanct.

And, let??™s not forget those eating at the government treasury trough whether they are employed by the government or they are taking advantage of government programs created to offer a person a hand up towards the American Dream. The point of the latter was to help tide folks over during the bad times; they were not meant to become a whole new dependent lifestyle that the rest of us have to pay for in order for others to do nothing. Most of us don??™t mind helping others in need; but, we don??™t like to be taken advantage of over and over again.

When it comes to science- a greater fear is when will science cross the human line and begin to offer one the ability to play God? That is the crux of the major concerns of our day: abortion, stem cell research, cloning, and the list can and will go on.

Why would we even be faced with any of these issues? What else is lacking to even allow these issues to smack us in the face?

The ???greatest generation??? will reply: ???Character.???

These folks will support their view by recounting how many a deal was sealed by a handshake. They remember a time when someone??™s word meant something. They didn??™t go in for the shallow drama of ???He said- She said??? discussions. They remember a time when everyone worked to help support their families. Some will recount memories of leaving school in the 8th grade to join the family on the farm, or take a job in a factory, or take on any job that would help put that dinner time meal on the table.

The ???greatest generation??? will also talk about the morals society demanded people to follow. Most didn??™t sell their bodies, their souls, and their kin to make it to the next level.

They also didn??™t compromise principles in order to get ahead. When the news was delivered by Morrow or Cronkite, it was the news. There wasn??™t this vitriolic version plastered from one extreme to the other. Journalism wasn??™t about being the first to print ??“ report at all costs. Journalism was more about who was delivering the truth and truly proving the old founding father belief- that the ???pen is mightier??™ than the sword. But that doesn??™t mean that journalists are members of the fourth branch of government.

The ???greatest generation??? will remind us that they respected each other.

Now stories go beyond invading the individual rights to privacy; and, it??™s not about the good that is going on- rather ??“ it is about digging up the dirt- no matter how old- and flinging it and making it more of a story than it ever was before the age of exaggeration.

The ???greatest generation??? will add: ???This was a time of personal responsibility- it wasn??™t everyone else??™s fault.???

Then there is the Sunday ritual of heading off to any denomination of religion and declaring that they have been saved; are among the righteous who can judge others severely ??“ only to go out afterwards tilting their halos, flinging them like Frisbees, in to the sea of temptation- sins that confront all of us. Just mention televangelists ??“ and people reflect upon the actions of Jim and Tammy Faye Baker. They weren??™t the only ones out there wanting to have their palms greased with ill gotten gains. Where was God in all of this?

Now, we live in a society that on the whole doesn??™t necessarily value human life of any age or have lives woven with moral fiber.

All that said, we have to wonder: ???What happened to us????

Claudia Kerens

mina1986 @ midwest. net

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About Me:

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General Bio - 51 year old educator who has

worn several hats in the broadcasting,

office and restaurant worlds. Turning 50

is a freeing experience thus most of my

writing revolves around lessons learned

and wisdom to pass on so that others don't

hit the same brick walls I did. The sooner

folks love themselves, they can give love

to others. And that, is the greatest

gift of all.

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Writers Feedback

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Prayer Requests and Updates

Nikki is now at 7.5.. she's back in the normal range... she's in good spirits and was even allowed to see Sierra today.?  They are going to let her rest a few days before taking her through the bone marrow testing, which is going to add more pain?  to see if the white blood cells have any abnormalness in them.?  God bless you all... Alice ? 

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? SENIOR WRITERS

Chief Writer: Sharon Bryant

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? Agee, Vance;? Apted, Violet;? Baker, Kathy; Batt, Al;?  Berry, Nell; Blaine, Pamela

Boda, Ginger;? ? Buhagiar, Victor; Cassady, B.J.;?  Cavalera, Robyn; Crider, Mark;? 

Deming, Barb; Doherty, Maria; Gilbert, Robert Jr; Goodier, Steve; Halley, Ellie Braun;

Harris, Kathy Anne;? Hunt, Sharlette;? Hymes, Christina

Jacobson, Gary;? Kiser, Roger Dean; Kerens, Claudia; Kevin, Tim Jenkins, Pamela;

Liles, Norma; Lilly, Jodi Flesberg; Lock, Joyce; Mazzella, Joe;? Morris, Deepak;

Ojeigbe, Georgewaters;

?  Petry, Dianna Doles; Roberts, Susan;?  Shiveley, Debra; Shaw, Bob; Sims, Richard; Streidel, Saskia; Swarner, Ken; Vaknin, Sam; Verhoeff, Jan

Walker, Bill; Walker, Joe;? Warner, Gorden K; Walsh, Sue

Weymouth, Barbara; Whirity, Kathy;? White, Robert;

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STORYTIME TAPESTRY STAFF

Publisher: Carol Roach-founder

Moderator: Thelma Hartselle-co founder

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