Summer: Time to Work or
Time to Play?  

    What was your first real paying job as a teen? Did you work during your summer vacation? Or did you play, watching your days melt away as fast as the soft-serve ice cream cone on a July day?

    My mother was certain I would not find a summer job.

    First off, summer had started, as defined by the last day of school, which meant all the cushy, decent-paying positions were taken.

    In my hometown, unless you knew someone who owned a family business, choices were limited to toiling at the degrading, greasy fast-food chains or relentless waitressing at the truck stop. Apart from babysitting, I was out of luck. I had no farmhand experience and was scared of tractors, which ruled out earning good money bailing hay. 

    That’s why I walked into Hardee’s, filled out an application, and walked out excited to be employed. I had a minimum-wage job behind the counter. Easy-peasy. 

    I proved I could find a job. That’s all I wanted. However, my first shift forced me to contend with bossy managers only a few years older than me, work weekend hours until closing, and smile at surly customers. I dealt with nicer, patient people than not. And I learned about Hardee’s unadvertised menu item— cheese sandwiches, ordered by the vegetarian patrons.    

    Employee perks included discounts on any menu item. My favorite meal was a fish fillet sandwich and fries. (I still like fillet-o-fish with yellow cheese on a soft bun.)   

    But there weren’t enough fish sandwiches or digits in my paycheck to compensate me for wearing the mandatory ugly uniform. A muddy brown polyester fabric, which always smelled like greasy fries, was the worst.  Although every Hardee’s employee looked as drab as their uniform.

    As miserable as I was, I worked weekends through the fall. I suppose I needed to prove to myself (and my parents) that I could keep this lousy job. An experience that taught me I had to start my job search earlier next time.  

    The following year, I was wiser in my quest to find summer work. My best friend and I got a gig serving three meals to rowdy campers at the college. No weekends! Afternoons off! Only hairnets, no goofy uniforms.   

    Funny, I can’t remember a supervisor. Perhaps she was out of sight doing important stuff while I was lifting heavy trays, weaving in-between long tables. Back and forth from the steamy kitchen to the dining hall and back. It was hard, sweaty labor.

    The day started at 6 a.m. and I didn’t mind because working alongside my best friend made every hour fly by. The joy and misery of a summer job forged our friendship deeper.

***

    My retired girl friends, and I were enjoying a gelato in a coffee shop this summer afternoon when in walked a smartly dressed teenager. He wore black pants, a white button-down shirt, and clean black shoes. Our table was close enough to eavesdrop on his job interview.

    “What experience do you have?” she asked.

    He told her he worked in food service, grocery stores, and restaurants. I didn’t hear her response, only his.

    “I’m a hard worker. I understand your loyalty to the people who worked here last summer,” he said.

    He didn’t sound upset, and I thought he had likely faced rejection a few times because it was already summer and job-hunting season had begun.

What can I write about roses that hasn’t already been said? Such exquisite beauty, fragrance, and thorny nature are well known to poets, writers, and gardeners around the world.   

 What does it mean to be lost in your art? 

    Morgan Fleming, a Kansas City jeweler, inspired by Peter Carl Faberge’s work, designed his own masterpiece titled “Morgan’s Egg in Renaissance Style.”

        “I didn’t know if I ever existed before the egg. It totally changed my life,” he told me when I interviewed him in the 1990s.

        He labored for six years on this million-dollar masterpiece. Fleming fit the profile of a mad scientist obsessed with his project who rarely left his lab. His family had tremendous faith in him, though he rarely saw him. Neither did his friends. Or customers. He hired out repairs to focus on finishing the regal egg.

        Every detail he painstakingly perfected for his Imperial Easter Egg. The stunning sterling silver egg features 18-carat gold lattice work dotted with 51 clusters, each featuring four diamonds accented with a ruby center. The gold base is trimmed with intricate white, red, and green enamel designs.

        Fleming thought he’d finish the egg in a year, but he estimated he devoted 4,500 hours. Other jewelers worked with him to replicate the design details. But he reminded me that Faberge employed around 400 craftsmen. His workforce produced one jeweled egg a year for the tsar, who presented the egg as an Easter gift for the tsarina. 

        Despite the setbacks and sacrifices, Fleming told me that he never contemplated failure. He was remarkable in his determination and imagination.

    (Footnote: I’ll work on this mystery to see where this extraordinary egg resides now.)

 

Have you heard about Stop the Sexualization of Children Act HR76661? The American Library Association its opposition to this recently introduced book banning legislation stressing that “parents, not politicians should guide their children’s reading.”   

Protect the Children, or How to Ban a Book in 5 Simple Steps

If you have a child, or know a child that you desperately want to protect, read on. Are you worried that books are corrupting young minds? And by corrupt, we mean ideas and beliefs unlike yours.  

Step 1: Pick a book that you have not read. Any book, genre, or target age. Do not worry if the book is not controversial; your job is to make it more controversial with a fact-finding expedition. It’s never been easier to make any book controversial without even reading it! The goal is to prevent an innocent child from learning something. Remember: Protect the children.

Step 2: Judge the book by its cover, the title, the awards it’s received. Does the title sound suspicious? Does the cover artwork make you anxious? All signs indicate that this book should remain closed. Remember, do not read the book, because this will inject positive bias. Pro tip: The literary award name usually appears in a gold circle stamped on the front.   

Step 3: Read the front flap to understand the book’s premise, setting, and characters. No matter how interesting it sounds, do not read the book. Studies show that if you read the book you cannot argue effectively against banning the book. Trust us.

Step 4: Read the author’s bio to figure out what offends your sensibilities. Maybe you don’t like their name (too foreign sounding), where they live, or that they have an awful haircut. It’s tempting to get bogged down in the writer’s confusing pronouns, religion, or ethnicity but you don’t need to conduct research. Yes, really. Pro tip: Pick one offense and don’t back down.

Step 5: Is this book “required reading” for school? If yes, then storm the school board, picket the library, or harass the parents and teachers who have failed to think of the children’s future. Remember, act outraged that reading books promotes a student’s ability to think for themselves are available at school libraries. Fiery eyes, fist in the air, and foaming at the mouth (kidding) draws more attention to you than the cause. Pro tip: Calmly declare that the book contradicts your family values, depicts real historical events, or uses inappropriate language. Don’t use foul language when giving your opinion.   

Finally, if you are concerned that the next generation will be duly influenced by what they read, expanding their knowledge and understanding about who they are and the world around them, it’s your duty to speak up. But we advise against telling your children about your ultimate book burning, banning plans. Teenagers, in particular, will want to read the very books you are protecting them from. Then, these ungrateful children will challenge you and publicly fight for their right to read all the books.   

Dreams of Winter 

When I greet winter,
I’m in Robert Frost’s poem pausing “between woods and frozen lake.”

❅❅❅

Where I see winter,
it’s a backyard of barren trees, showing off their naked shape,
the fleeting red flash at the feeder,
animal tracks in criss-cross patterns. 

❅❅❅  

What I sense
is calm wrapped in stillness,
an excuse to hibernate, tuck in, peer out.

❅❅❅

How do I dream of winter?
It’s gentle, well-behaved snow,
without the bullies wind, sleet, and ice.

❅❅❅

 

Image: Handwritten note by author. 

What do you think about cursive writing?

As a reporter, I relied heavily on my handwritten notes. Writing someone else’s words helped me better remember what they said. I invented my shorthand to capture key concepts. I starred passages that stuck out as ideal quotes because they explained a concept, described an experience, or made me laugh or cry.

    As a writer, I find my ideas flow easier with pen and paper rather than typing. Tapping on the keyboard or using dictation works too. But first, hand me a pen and let me balance a notebook in my lap.

+++

New Jersey dropped handwriting from its curriculum after the adoption of the Common Core State Standards in 2010, which didn’t require handwriting instruction. Many states said goodbye to cursive, but New Jersey reversed its decision.  In September, New Jersey public schools will start teaching cursive writing to third-through fifth-grade students.

Cursive is back! That's why I designed and typed (you’re welcome) a special cursive writing quiz in honor of cursive writing.  

How excited are you about the return of cursive writing to New Jersey school students?

A.     Woo-hoo! Everyone should know how to write in cursive and read it too.

B.     Every student in every state should learn longhand.

C.      I didn’t know they stopped teaching cursive.

D.     What a waste of time. What about Latin?    

What are the benefits of adding cursive to the curriculum?

A.     Improves spelling, motor skills, and hand-eye coordination  

B.     Signing legal documents and writing checks  

C.      Reading my parents’ love letters

D.     Students can write their own absentee excuses

What should our elementary students be learning besides cursive?

A.     Latin

B.     United States History

C.      Leonard Cohen’s musical catalogue  

D.     Writing with artificial intelligence

What careers are open to those who can read cursive?  

A.     Digital subscriber for the Smithsonian

B.     Teachers

C.      Historians

D.     Transcribing spells for wizards, witches, and magical beings.

What was the first instrument you used to write?    

A.     Pencil

B.     Leaky fountain pen

C.      Don’t ask. I was traumatized by the whole experience.

D.     Voice dictation

Have you ever had a pen pal?

A.     I still have pen pals.

B.      Sounds like fun. Sign me up.

C.      I’ve thought about writing to inmates.

D.     I exchange notes with my neighbor. She leaves a note on my car when I park in her spot, and I put a note when her dog does his business on my lawn.

How would you describe your signature?

A.     Big and bold like me.

B.     Tidy, tiny and unassuming  

C.      A cross between printing and writing

D.     Unruly, illegible, but hey, it’s unique.  

Do people compliment you on your signature?

A.     I’ve been told my handwriting is mesmerizing.

B.     Everyone says I have a doctor’s handwriting. Does that mean it’s awful?

C.      Sometimes. People who love loopy loops.  

D.     People ask: What language is that? Are you writing in code? Can you spell that for me?  

What is the most valuable or oldest handwritten document in your possession?

A.     I’m proud to own my great-great grandmother’s molasses cake recipe written in her own hand.

B.     A Girl Scout cookie order form (circa 1973) because it proves I could sell anything to anyone.

C.      My college essay.

D.     A postcard from the window installer looks like it’s handwritten.    

What historical documents would you like to see, read, or interpret?     

A.     Declaration of Independence

B.     Gettysburg Address

C.      Correspondence between Abigail and John Adams

D.     Give me the faint and fading documents

Key: For those with an abundance of As, buy yourself a journal. If your responses were mainly Bs, you understand the business and historical value of cursive writing. Readers who chose the C answers have good outlook on life.Write me a letter, please. If you circled more Ds, may this quiz inspire you to become a more well-rounded individual. But don’t fret if you had a few Bs, some Cs, and the rest As because it’s all for fun.

Did you know George Orwell was a pseudonym?

Orwell’s real name was Eric Blair. I learned this literary fact while hopscotch-reading through an anthology of essays. (1) 

This revelation about one of my favorite authors surprised me. I called my mother, who taught English for many years, to share the news while secretly hoping she didn’t it would be news to her. Mom didn’t know but noted it’s a common practice for authors to protect their privacy.    

Why did Blair use a pen name? Well, literary scholars have plenty of theories. A prominent one suggests that Blair didn’t want to embarrass his parents by publishing Down and Out in Paris and London (1933) under his own name. His nonfiction work is a portrayal of poverty based on working menial jobs in kitchens in Paris and living on the streets in England. An experiment to experience first-hand what poverty tasted like and felt like.

It reminds me of Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America (2001) by Barbara Ehrenreich. Ehrenreich worked undercover as a waitress, maid, and a chain retail store, to see if she could survive on minimum wage. Her work helped readers understand that living on minimum wage is not living but struggling.   

Back to Orwell, perhaps he chose the name in honor of a racehorse that had a reputation for losing races even though the odds were in its favor. “Naming himself after a loser with a disability might well have appealed to the writer’s dark sense of humour,” says Ronald Binns, author of Orwell in Southwold.

Or another guess: He wanted an English-sounding name.  

+++

A fiercely loved paperback of Orwell’s 1984 has a permanent home on the handmade pine bookshelf closest to my bed. It’s hard for me to read because of its physical state, not mine. Tiny typeface on dog-eared yellow pages. Plus, it smells musty and old, unlike the other crisper, younger books keeping it company. I imagine this edition has been with me since my high school days.    

Rarely do I reread books. However, 1984 has been the exception. I have returned to this classic, first assigned in school. My sense is that high school teachers dissected the meaning of the author’s satirical work, rather than the author, in this case. (2)

+++

Perhaps geography plays a role too when teaching literature. As a proud Missourian, I know that Mark Twain was Samuel L. Clemens’ pen name. It’s knowledge that I suspect they teach in school, but I believe it’s buried in the soil, or that it floats down the Mississippi River. The Mississippi River, a virtual character, in Twain’s work.

How did Clemens pick his pen name? Clemens claimed that his nom de plume was inspired by river boatmen. The boatmen called out Mark Twain, shorthand for two fathoms, helping navigate their craft. My mother also confirmed this legend. However, I found another story explaining that Clemens earned the nickname from ordering his usual drink, Mark Twain, which meant two shots of whiskey.  

Pick your story. How about another one? Twain was born on the same day Hally’s Comet shone in the sky in 1835 and died, as he predicted, when the comet appeared again in 1910.  

“Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn’t,” as quoted by Twain’s own character Pudd’nhead Wilson.

As a writer, I plan to take more care to learn and remember authors’ names and their life stories beyond what’s on the page.

Footnotes:

1    I was reading Orwell’s essay “Such, Such were the Joys,” in The Art of the Personal Essay An Anthology from the Classical Era to the Present.   

2   Inside this book was George Orwell’s biography, which noted it was the pen name of Englishman Eric Blair, born in Bengal in 1903. I’m a better reader now, never skipping over introductions or avoiding afterwords.