Memories

I was watching a program on my local PBS station the other evening.  It was definitely not new; a few performers I recognized as having left us more than a few years back, but, it was a popular show, regularly brought out during their beg-a-thons.  I put it on while making dinner, thinking that I’d change to something else once Shelby and I settled in for the evening.  No such luck!

            The show featured music from the fifties and early sixties sung by some of the artists who made those songs popular.  It was a great program with many outstanding performances, showing that age doesn’t necessarily slow down everyone.  Or maybe it is true that music keeps you young. Occasionally, the camera would pan the audience and you’d see seniors grinning, eyes pointed to the person seated next to them.  Some were with young people, probably grandkids, but many seated next to significant others.

            A lot of the older couples were holding hands, grins spread across their faces, and eyes that shone.  A few hankies were visible. They were not sharing music, they were sharing their lives and their long ago dreams.  It didn’t take much to picture these couples slow dancing to Sarah Vaughan’s EMBRACEABLE YOU, snuggling close to UNCHAINED MELODY, or looking into each other’s eyes as Elvis serenaded them with LOVE ME TENDER.  Jerry and I related to the Everly Brothers ‘song, WAKE UP LITTLE SUSIE, after falling asleep at a drive-in movie theater and trying to explain to my parents why we were hours late getting me home. 

            Some time memories of certain songs had different meanings to us.  Take for example; I’M SO LONELY I COULD CRY and HEARTBRAKE HOTEL.  Neither song would encourage smiles but I’m sure many would be a story to tell.  JAILHOUSE ROCK might bring up some interesting recollections.  I have this picture in my head of an older man, a grandfather, who is a retired executive, living well off his pension and investments. He laughs when he hears Harry Belafonte’s BANANA BOAT SONG, remembering that he felt the same way when he was so young, doing the bottom of the ladder grunt work for the company he eventually ran.

            We may not always remember where we placed our glasses a few moments ago, but we have a tendency to remember our first kiss, our first attempt at riding a bicycle without the training wheels, or maybe, our first real friend. Memories may not always be good ones but they all have a place in our lives.  Our past impacts our future.  Today’s decisions may be based on decisions we’ve made in our past.  Do we repeat those decisions or, have maturity and experience taught us to learn from our mistakes? 

            Live today to the fullest but don’t be afraid to look back.  Remember that by tomorrow, today will be already a memory.  Make some good ones!!!

All the best for a happy and exciting New Year

Sharon

Hockey

I hadn’t thought about it in years but channel surfing came at the right time this year and I got hooked on the Stanley Cup Playoffs.  It’s a long, drawn-out series of seven games times four to see which team carries home the thirty-four-and-a-half pound trophy and a reasonable amount of money.  Quite a few more teams are vying for it now than when I used to sit at home with my dad and watch the action.  Who would have thought of Hockey games in Miami!!!

            My dad was a seasonal guy.  There was Baseball season, Hockey season, and a season for all other games like Roller Derby, Wrestling, and Boxing. Ice Hockey was my favorite.  The action was non-stop as the players darted from one side of the rink to the other, pushing, pulling, slapping, and hurtling the tiny black puck hopefully into the opponent’s net. In those days, faceguards and helmets were not normally part of the uniform, so occasionally the puck ended up in someone’s face. Concussions were prevalent as well. Sometimes your eyes hurt from trying to get in all the action shown on the small tv screen as you waited for the announcer’s, “A shot and a goal by…”

            My team was the Chicago Blackhawks and my favorite player was Bobby Hull.  Dubbed the ‘Golden Jet," he was a Canadian-born skater who played in over one thousand NHL games during his tenure.  He could skate twenty-nine mph and his slapshot was once clocked at 118 mph.  He could pass, he could score, and could he fight!  There was always a reason to raise up the sticks and pound on each other in a free-for-all! 

            I was working in downtown Chicago and I heard Bobby Hull was going to be at a Florsheim shoe store on Dearborn Street, signing autographs during the noon hour.  I managed to duck out of the office and hike my way over to the store to stand in line for what seemed forever.  Suddenly, there I was, standing across from the “Golden Jet” himself.  Our eyes met.  Well, actually mine were looking further down, admiring his false front teeth.  He smiled, asked my name, which luckily I remembered, and we exchanged pleasantries which I don’t remember.  I walked out of the store clutching my autographed photo and walked slowly back to work.  That evening I showed Jerry my prize.  He never really got into Hockey much but he always understood where I came from with it.

            A year or so after I snagged my Bobby Hull photo, I received one of the nicest gifts ever.  I think it was Valentine’s Day and Jerry had been out working late on his second job.  He walked in with something large wrapped in plastic bags and told me to close my eyes. He told me that he loved me and had wanted to get me a fantastic gift but the stores were closed and he hoped this would be ok with me.  First, he reached into his pocket and gave me a silly, children’s card that he had drawn all over.  Then, out came a Snicker’s bar.  The plastic bag-wrapped gift was handed over and I couldn’t help but laugh.  I tore off the plastic and grabbed my very own Chicago Blackhawk authorized, wooden Hockey stick that he had found in our local convenience store.  That was the sweetest, nicest, most wonderful, most romantic gift a girl could ever wish for!

            I’ve had Bobby Hull’s photo and the Hockey stick both for over fifty years.  The photo is on the office wall and the stick is in my closet.  The stick may have never played in a game but I can imagine the announcer saying “A shot and a goal by Jerry Ahern”.

Sharon