Tag: childhood memories

TV and Nostalgia

What TV shows did you watch as a kid?

Nostalgia gets a bad rap for being a blindfold that prevents us from perceiving hard truths about our childhoods. That can be true, but let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater. I have very fond memories of my childhood that nostalgia helps keep alive, and that includes the TV shows I watched. Particularly the animated ones.

I spent many evenings with my dad watching some of our favorite cartoons: Justice League, X-Men Evolution, Samurai Jack, Teen Titans. And also one Transformers show that I can’t remember the name of (and wasn’t really all that good, but it was in the same time block, so we watched it anyway).

It was very cozy, watching TV with my dad. Television is great entertainment, but it’s somehow more meaningful when enjoyed with others. I recall those days with no small amount of wistfulness. Simpler times, for him and for me.

It’s strange how as children we take things for granted that we yearn to have back now. Saturday morning cartoons were just part of the routine. They weren’t a golden age of our lives, a precious memory to hold near and dear to our hearts. They were just … there. Fun, sure, but not precious. Not yet, anyway.

And if that’s the case, nostalgia possesses at least one positive quality: It preserves our best memories.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

The Memories of Childhood

I remember the smell of freshly baked peanut butter cookies in the kitchen wafting like a warm summer breeze. I remember how they crumbled in my hand as I ate them, little bits of delicious debris, and how there were always enough to last a week or more. I plucked them out of the Tupperware container one by one, day by day, a child’s guilty pleasure.

I remember the sound of my father mowing the lawn, a sawing roar yet somehow comforting. I remember the pungent odor of freshly cut grass coming through my open window, and I remember him manhandling the lawnmower up the steep hill in our backyard.

I remember walking through the forest park, the pine needles blanketing the ground like slivers of gold. I remember the tall trees that shaded me, and the baseball diamond at the park’s edge, where my parents and I used to buy hot dogs before returning home.

I remember the day after I had my wisdom teeth removed. My mind was a drowsy blur from anesthetics. I remember how my numb jaw felt like a lump of dead meat that didn’t hurt even when I pinched hard. I held a bag of frozen peas against it when the feeling and the pain started coming back.

I remember when I first became a writer. My parents owned a word processor, and I used it to write stories about my action figures. I printed them out and hung them on my wall, so proud of my work. I started my first novel, and never got past the fifth page. I remember getting my first computer, a great, gray blocky thing, and using it to write new stories. A child’s fancies that watered a ripe imagination.

I remember much, much more. More than could ever be committed to blog or paper. My childhood is over. The memories endure.

***

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

Ye Olden Internet Days

Do you remember life before the Internet?

I certainly remember life with less Internet, though I’m not quite old enough to remember a time predating it. I grew up in the days of dial-up when going online meant not being able to use landline phones (I remember those, too) and television had no online connection. In fact, quite a few things weren’t online. Phones weren’t, cars weren’t, watches weren’t, heck, even there wasn’t even Wifi.

Streaming certainly a thing. Once upon a time, watching Netflix meant having a physical copy mailed to you to rent and return. Speaking of TV and movies, you watched them on a channel, stuck a cassette into a VCR, or went to a movie theater. This was the days before YouTube, Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. There was MySpace, but I never used that so I can’t say much about it.

I do remember early Internet sites fondly, for some reason. Wikis didn’t exist, so people made websites more or less from scratch. Fewer templates, though there was AngelFire and similar tools. No Wix or WordPress yet. Fan sites looked unique. Silly, too, at times, especially compared to today’s sleek designs. Graphics weren’t a big thing, so a web page was mostly a bunch of text and a few pictures. And we were happy with what we got, you young whippersnappers!

Anyway, I’m not that old, but technology has a habit of making you think you are. It moves very fast, and in another thirty years, we’ll probably look at today’s Internet as something akin to the abacus. Or maybe we’ll go back to using the abacus because our calculators keep spitting out ads after every sum.

Yeah, we didn’t get many ads back then, either. Heh.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

Thoughts on The Giving Tree

Do you remember your favorite book from childhood?

I can’t say it was my favorite book as a child – I have too many of those to choose just one – but I remember The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein with fondness. A sweet story of self-sacrifice, though as an adult I realize that it is controversial. But most stories are, especially when we pry them open, dissect them, and boil them down.

Maybe I’m just a sentimentalist who likes stories that are bittersweet. Maybe I’m naive. Or maybe I never perceived the concept that the boy was exploiting the tree because I grew up in a family where I was taught to say “please” and “thank you” and learned about responsibility. Maybe a story’s interpretation depends on the context of the reader’s life and experiences. We all see something different.

Either way, I liked the story. I was young and innocent and hadn’t received a college education yet, so I saw only good in it.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

Nostalgia Courtesy of a Snickers Bar

What is your favorite candy?

Food is such a nostalgic thing. Memories of my favorites conjure up childhood memories of family outings and fun with friends. I get warm fuzzies thinking of my mother’s old cooking, or a particularly memorable birthday party, or that one time I was allowed to have a pizza when my parents left me home alone one night. And, of course, the memory of favorite candies.

Mine are Snickers. Nuts and caramel covered in chocolate. Not airy fluff like 3 Musketeers and with more texture than a Kit Kat, Snickers bars are the perfect blend of dense, crunchy, tasty and buttery smooth.

I don’t eat them much anymore, but I remember when I was young that every time I went with my parents on our monthly shopping trip to the navy exchange I would get a Snickers from the candy kiosk before check out. I had to finish it before getting back in the car, or I’d get chocolate stains all over the seat.

Snickers isn’t just a favorite candy. It’s a catalyst for fond memories. I can recall nearly every part of that store: the maze of grocery aisles; the home and garden section with kitchen supplies and clothes and magazines and knick knacks; the garden greenhouse, which had a fun corner where they kept the action figures and other toys; the tiny food court where we occasionally grabbed McDonald’s (and where I confirmed that McDonald’s will never be as good as Burger King).

I haven’t thought about any of this in a long time. Food really is a key to nostalgia’s lock. Good days long gone, but readily remembered with a little gastronomic prompting. I miss them.

***

My latest book, The Trickster’s Lament, is currently available on Amazon in both Kindle and paperback format.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

The Ancient Age of Computers

Write about your first computer.

It was a big deal in my life owning a computer for the first time. Oh, I grew up using my parent’s, but having my own was almost a rite of passage into adulthood.

As many of you already know, I’m a writer, and I’ve been writing for most of my life. My first typed ramblings were done on a word processor, the grandaddy of modern computers where the only thing you could do was type and print. No fonts, no editing, no formatting. The missing link between the typewriter and the computer.

My first proper computer, though, was a birthday gift. It was a big deal, as you might imagine, especially since I was in, what? Fifth or sixth grade? A long time ago, in the days of yore when computers were big solid blocks, the mouse and keyboard were wired, the monitor was tiny, and it was the really big towers tucked away behind the desk that held all the processing power. These were the days of floppy discs that could hold maybe a single magazine issue’s worth of information before filling up and needing you to buy another one. No memory sticks here.

Before touch screens. Before iPhones. Before Bluetooth. Yes, the time when there was only – shudder – dial-up.

Some of you reading this remember dial-up. Using a landline phone connection to hook up to the Internet. When I wanted to go online, I had to tell my parents, because we couldn’t use the phone and be online at the same time. And then there was the sound. All I can really say is, if you know, you know. The sinister symphony of beeps, honks and screaming static. The sound of an age before instant convenience. Back in my day, we waited minutes to get online.

I liked that computer. Well, it was my only one, so I had better like it, but it was fun. Surfing the old version of the web, playing computer games that required actual discs (sometimes more than one for a single game!) and using the old Microsoft Word that came in an actual package rather than be an online service.

But that computer is gone now. It died, as computers tend to do. A moment of silence for the Ancient Age of Computers. But not for dial-up. Dial-up will not be missed.

***

My new book, The Trickster’s Lament, is currently available on Amazon in both Kindle and paperback format.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.

He may be disrespected. He may be kicked about. He may even be falling out with his pantheon. But Hermes is a trickster. He knows how to play dirty in a world that doesn’t play fair. But though he can best man, beast, and god, he isn’t prepared for his wiliest opponent yet: his own conscience.”

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Snow and Me: A Complicated Relationship

Winter is approaching fast, and that means snow is on the way where I live. And snow means a clean split between those shivering with excitement and those groaning in despair.

Snow is weird. You want to paint a happy picture of winter fun? Throw in some snowmen and snowballs and snow forts. Want to paint a picture of a barren wasteland? Take OUT the snowmen and snowballs and snow forts.

Snow is great until it isn’t. Making snow angels and trekking through knee-deep drifts is all well and good until the melt seeps into your pants and you can’t feel your toes anymore. Or your fingers. Or your nose and ears. Hey, look! My pinkie just froze and snapped off! Isn’t this FUN?

Look at this magical winter world
Image by Bonnie Moreland; Public Domain Mark 1.0.

When I was a kid, I loved snow. Snow meant days off school and winter play and running around trying to come up with new ways to use the stuff. I loved playing in it and rolling huge snowmen. Well, more like snow boulders. We would just roll a bunch of big uber-snowballs and leave them scattered across the field. And I have fond memories of watching snow slipping off the tallest tree branches during the thaw. Snow is fun – when you don’t have responsibilities.

Nowadays, I prefer to stay inside and enjoy it from a safe distance.

You see, kids don’t have to drive in snow. Or walk down to the mailbox in it. They might have to shovel the driveway, but pay them in cash or candy and they’re happy enough. Too bad adults can’t pay themselves for cracking their spines lugging shovelfuls of very heavy frozen water. Growing up is a terrible thing, sometimes.

Ah, yes, snow is water. Which means it melts. And that brings on the SLUSH. Nobody ever mentions SLUSH when discussing winter. It’s a wintry wonderland, happy and clean and pretty! And then it all turns to SLUSH. Dirty, half-melted bogs of detritus covering roads and pooling in every yard and gutter. The aftermath of winter.

There are people who never see snow, for whom the concept is a distant fantasy. These people probably enjoy snow very much because they never have to deal with it. Snow is a pleasant image on TV screens and picture books and never, ever interferes with their lives. They can safely imagine what it would be like to be in the snow without having to actually endure it.

SOMEONE has to clean up this mess …
Image by jpctalbot; CC BY 2.0.

Yeah, you grow up and little fun things become big pains. Alas. But, snow IS pretty, I’ll give it that. And freshly fallen snow is one of the purest, cleanest things you can see in the world. And the morning after a snowfall is so quiet and peaceful and contemplative. Or eerie and spooky if you’re so inclined.

To all the people who live in regions where there is snow most, if not all of, the year, hats off to you. You are tougher and more patient than I am. I would say that snow only belongs in regions uninhabited by all life, but since humanity always seems keen on colonizing the most desolate and inhospitable regions on Earth, I guess that bus has long since passed. At least some people know how to make really pretty art out of it.

Snow is just weird. It’s this twisted dichotomy of life and death. Snow-covered landscapes are either joyful, festive scenes or just pits of death. Maybe a person’s changing attitude toward snow is some sort of reflection of our changing nature from childhood into adulthood.

Or maybe we’re all crazy and should just stay inside where it’s warm.

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Title Image: “snowman” by Dan’l Burton; Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.