You Tube just makes me happy

Howie

I have long been a television aficionado, and have written about my thoughts on the subject often over the years, in this very blog. There are too many posts to mention here, but for anyone who is interested, just type “television” into the search box at right to check them out.

My television viewing began at a very early age--coincidentally--both mine and that of the industry. I remember well, those black and white shows and movies as our family gathered in front of the round screen in the living room to experience what was then a brand new innovation.

I was only about three- or four-years old when my older brother Bobby and I used to visit our grandparents, just next door, to watch “Lassie,” every Sunday night at 6 o’clock. That was our time. My memories are vague about those days, but I’ve heard the stories my mother tells. She said Grandma made us snacks, often popcorn and apples, and sometimes cheese and crackers. Sometimes, there was a rare treat - iced tea and layer cake with coffee-flavored frosting.

The adults in my family always had a pot of coffee brewing. What a perfect way to use the last of what was in the pot. It was, so to speak, the icing on the cake. I don’t often bake these days, but if I make a cake, you can bet the liquid in the frosting is not milk or cream, but coffee. One taste of it, or come to think of it, the very thought of it, always brings me back to Grandma’s kitchen.

While so many details of those days in Grandma and Grandpa’s house are sketchy, I’ve seen “Lassie” many times in reruns over the years. I loved that show. There was always a lesson to be learned, family was the most important thing, and I was smitten with the way Jeff and later Timmy bonded with what I’ve always believed was the most beautiful dog I’d ever seen.

Lassie was portrayed as a hero, a friend, a loving companion, and the adult in me would have to add, well-behaved and smart.

That show has been so imprinted on me that several years ago I had the occasion to buy a Collie, one that looked just like Lassie. We named him Howie. That’s him, top right, and I swear he was the best dog I’ve ever known.

Today I’m a cat person, but if there was a sable-colored, rough-coat Collie that needed a home, the cats and I would make room without a second thought.

Watch on You Tube

“Lassie” and so many other vintage programs and videos that take me all the way back to the early days of my life can be seen on You Tube. 

 It is the latest addition to my TV addiction.

Watching You Tube videos is my go to these days when I can no longer handle all the bad news and ugly politics that fills the airwaves. I briefly touched on this subject in my most recent post, “Hey there, Hi there, Ho there,” as I related to filling the hours that used to be spent with favorite TV shows, still on hiatus due to the writers’ strike this summer.  

In addition to reliving days gone by, I have used You Tube to study instructions on how to repair this or that. I’ve sought answers to the ever-growing questions that elude me like who was that actor or what was that movie.

I’ve watched videos about the neighborhoods where I’ve lived. Pleasant memories always fill my head and my heart as I ‘travel’ to another place and time. I’ve watched countless quilting videos and learned how to knit socks.

You Tube, now owned by Google was purchased for $1.65 billion in Oct. 2006. It is the second most visited website in the world, only after Google Search, according to Wikipedia. It was founded on Valentine’s Day 2005 in San Mateo CA by Jawed Karim, Chad Hurley, and Steve Chen.

I certainly appreciate their work because today, I use You Tube to seek my own happy place and it does not disappoint.

 

Hey there, Hi there, Ho there…

One Friday afternoon, I was wondering what to for the weekend. My usual favorite TV shows weren’t on due to the writers’ strike this summer. I didn’t feel like a movie and had already exhausted my fill of reading and sewing, and household chores.

So I turned to You Tube.  I often turn to You Tube to satisfy curiosity, learn more about some of my favorite things, and to enjoy a little nostalgia. Generally, my ‘feed’ shows a variety of different topics. One of which, on this particular night, was a video of the original Mickey Mouse Club, a childhood favorite when I was about three.

I watched the presentation, time-traveling in my mind to my earliest days of TV viewing. My interest was peaked, so I searched for my favorite Mouseketeer, Annette Funicello. I knew she was big, page after page depicted stories, videos, interviews, songs, and movies.

I began watching everything I could find about her. There was so much content, but I settled on a serial she starred in with Tim Considine that aired on the Mickey Mouse Club in the early 50’s. It was called “Annette” and although a little hokey by today’s standards, it was also charming, innocent, and sweet. I found it to be enchanting.

I was surprised that I had zero recollection about what we might call a ‘mini series’ today, although I know I watched it. I watched the Mickey Mouse Club every day. I remember lying on my stomach in front of the television set as my mother scolded, “Don’t get so close!”

When I was five years old, I adored Annette. In fact, the picture above is of a much younger version of myself with my favorite stuffed toy that I named after her. I loved that little tiger. Perhaps that was the beginning of my cat fancy too, who knows? I carried her everywhere. Now that I think about it, I have no recollection of what ever happened to her, but I have never seen another toy like her. Believe me, I have looked.

I was not surprised at all the information about Annette on You Tube. She was the most popular Mouseketeer, hand-picked by Walt Disney who first saw her at a school dance recital. Annette was about 12 when she “got her ears.”

I learned so much about her during my viewing marathon. I realized that my adoration of her was very well-placed as she was an incredible human being who by all accounts was as sweet as the girl she portrayed in her beach movies with Frankie Avalon and in the myriad appearances she made on talk shows and interviews, and on the records she sang. She remains my idea of what a child’s role model should be.

Annette became ill in the late 1980’s. I was a busy young wife and mother at the time, so I was unaware of the struggles she went through after being diagnosed at age 50 with multiple sclerosis. I had no idea how brave and giving she was, or how much she suffered in her last years. She began the Annette Funicello Research fund for neurological diseases with the hope of finding the cause, treatment, and cure for MS. She made it the purpose of her life. While the disease made her unable to walk, eat, or speak in her last years, she never gave up the fight, nor did her devoted husband Glenn Holt.

Annette died April 8, 2013 at the age of 70. Holt died five years later.

It was an emotional weekend where I laughed; I cried. I admired this woman as a child, but not only was she a good role model for a young child, but as an adult, I found that she was even more inspiring. Life is hard for child stars, but Annette seemed to take it all in her stride.

I think about early television and how innocent it all was. But those were the times in which we lived. I’m so grateful to have experienced those years. I think when people talk about the good ole days, this is what they mean. It wasn’t all sunshine and roses, of course. And I can only relate my own experience. Times were simpler, slower. There was a sense of purity and trust. I am glad that at an early age I learned to admire a person with good qualities and character, not just someone who was famous, beautiful, or rich, although Annette was all of those things.

My marathon was filled with emotion, but isn’t that what life is all about?

 

US DOT Secretary visits Gary/Chicago International Airport

U.S. Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg returned to his Indiana roots Wednesday to visit the Gary/Chicago International Airport where he remarked about the future of the facility. 

This is music to my ears, as I've been an advocate of the Gary airport for the past 30 years. I've long felt that it just makes sense to improve an existing airport in an urban area close to Chicago, rather than build a brand new airport far, far away from where anyone wants to go.

Oh, I know, the State of Illinois' latest iteration of Chicago's Third Airport is to settle for a cargo airport at Peotone, rather than the sprawling 7-square-mile rival to O'Hare International Airport, one of the busiest airports in the world, which is what they really wanted. 

Illinois' flawed plan for a simply wrong-headed project has never received the support necessary, financial or otherwise, to actually lift the thing off the ground. 

I remember when studies were performed back in the 1990's in search of a perfect location; there was a no-build option for the project, but only for a short time. It was never taken seriously by airport advocates, so they simply dismissed it. 

A long, long time ago

The project was actually first proposed in 1968 by three area chambers of commerce but accomplished little. It was resurrected in 1985, in the Illinois legislature as a means to bring economic vitality to the south suburbs. 

A small contingency of south suburban officials are all that ever really took the project seriously. Even the airlines balked at a new airport. And despite millions of dollars spent trying to make it happen, there has never been a proven need for it.

That isn't for a lack of trying however. Illinois transportation officials and south suburban leaders would try anything to bring back the economically-depressed southern suburbs, trying everything to get the airport to fly. They made it central in planning discussions, proposed economic opportunities with the airport front and center. But they never really looked at what was necessary in the corn, soy, and wheat fields, along the tar and chip roads, and working farm economy of eastern Will County.

Conversely, the Gary/Chicago Airport has enjoyed support of presidents, mayors, governors, and members of the public who recognized a real need to revitalize this airport and this region of the country. For many years, the State of Indiana and City of Chicago have been doing just that. 

Now, add the U.S. Secretary of Transportation and the Biden-Harris Administration to offer their support as well. 

"And I want to lift up the story of Gary because this is a community that kept the fires lit, that literally kept the furnaces going to supply the tens of thousands - tens of millions - of tons of steel that this country needed…" Buttigieg said, likening the viability of the airport to the once-heralded steel industry that actually built the region. 

He added that the federal government wants to make sure that there will be boom times again. 

"We've made new investments to build that heavy air cargo apron and logistics center here at Gary/Chicago Airport," Buttigieg added.

According to the Chicago Tribune, Gary’s airport received a total of $8 million in federal community project funds in 2022 and 2023, with the money going toward a specialized fire truck, snow removal equipment, a heavy air cargo logistics apron and a new sanitary sewer for the cargo center. The airport has requested another $3.5 million in federal funds for 2024, which would help further expand its cargo operations, airport executive director Dan Vicari said.

When I first learned that Pete Buttigieg, the former mayor of South Bend, Indiana was named Transportation Secretary, and that President Joe Biden got a sweeping infrastructure bill through the Congress and signed it into law, I wondered how this would affect the third airport debacle. 

This is what I had hoped, that funds would flow to Gary which has been steadfast in its quest to serve the aviation needs in the region. So far, the federal government barely recognizes the Peotone project.

Peotone does not now nor has it ever had aviation needs. And it is time to pull the plug on the project.

 

Red, White, and Blue and a little surprise

I cannot let another day go by without mentioning how very much I enjoyed the concert put on by the Mountain Home Symphony for this year's Red, White, and Blue festival, coined, Red, White, and Beautiful.

Indeed it was. 

We are very fortunate to have this dedicated group of musical performers to entertain us. I found this concert, held at Arkansas State University Mountain Home, held on the evening of June 23, to be extra special. It was even more than I had hoped because of a surprise not long before the rousing finale of The Stars and Stripes Forever. 

I love music. Like so many others, listening to music has always had a soothing, calming effect on me. I decided to attend the concert when I first learned about it in the local paper. Since the death of my husband John, just two months ago, I felt some good inspiring, enthusiastic, marching tunes were just what I needed.

I had no idea how emotional it would be. 

I admit I was a little weepy during the first beautiful solo rendition of our national anthem. My patriotism always makes me a little emotional, especially given the nature of the politics of the day, but there is also something about a voice with the ability to make beautiful music. The human condition that allows such a thing confounds me. I have no musical talent, but am in awe of those who do. 

The concert was beautiful, as each individual instrument blended so perfectly with the others in the making of music. 

But then, in the program, of which I was unaware, the selection was Henry Mancini's Moon River. At that moment, I felt utter joy as I saw my life flash before my eyes. Moon River, originally written for the movie, "Breakfast at Tiffany's" was Andy Williams' theme song and I have loved Andy Williams since I was 14 years old.

Just hearing the first few bars of this so-recognizable melody left me breathless.

As I closed my eyes I was transformed back into my early 20's. I was at Airie Crown Theater in Chicago. It was in the 1970's and my late husband John and I had first met and that was one of our first dates. He took me to see Andy Williams sing, backed by a full orchestra conducted by Henry Mancini. Of course, Moon River was prominently featured. That night was magical. 

Several years ago, when I attended his book signing, I was able to meet my idol, Andy Williams. I wrote about it at the time. (click here). I was able to tell Andy I was his biggest fan, and that I married my husband because he took me to hear Andy sing. That became a legend in our 46-year marriage. I had told John that so many times that we both actually believed it. 

I am grateful to the Mountain Home Symphony Orchestra for giving me the opportunity to relive this special moment in my life. But isn't that what music is all about? It has the power to transform us. It can bring us tremendous joy. And it can simply make us happy. So I offer my appreciation to every performer who is dedicated to making music. They did a splendid job. We, in this part of the country are so lucky to have them. And, I look forward to their next concert.

I am a widow!

I've been called many things in my life, but one of the hardest names to deal with is the latest - widow! 

It has been nearly two months since my husband John passed away in my arms, as I was helping him from his wheelchair to his bed. John had been having difficulty breathing and was experiencing pain in the side of his abdomen. This had been going on for two days and I was alarmed. There have been so many instances like this, so I didn't anticipate his inability to snap back from it once again. 

I went into his room after he had a nap. I asked him how he was. 

"I feel good." I asked him if he was in pain. 

"No," he said. 

Those were the last words he spoke. 

He had slept in his chair and wanted to be in his bed, so he asked me to help him. During that process, he simply slumped to one side. I struggled to get him onto the bed and tried to wake him. This had happened before, several times, but this time, he didn't wake up.

John had experienced many health issues, some really serious, since he had a severe stroke eight years ago. We dealt with problems as they arose and with medical intervention, had always moved forward. Clearly his external deficit on the right side of his body left him without function. It caused countless other problems. But there were internal issues at play as well, that were not so apparent.

Suffice it to say, his condition was hard on both of us. Despite my exhaustion, complete mental fatigue, in addition to his frustration and depression, we still found ways to cope. We even found ways to laugh, an important component of our 46-year marriage. We knew one another and were compatible in all the ways that count. We laughed at the same things, were frustrated by the same things, and had a lifetime of memories, with friends, family, and so much more to draw upon. There was always something to talk about. We even enjoyed the same television shows.

For nearly a year, John was a Hospice patient, so a nurse and bath aide came to visit at least three times per week. These angels of mercy not only helped John, but they were invaluable to me. Since our moving to the Ozarks, nobody has ever visited us three times per week, or more, so we looked forward to seeing them. I was especially grateful because they relieved the heavy burden of responsibility for John's health care from my shoulders. 

I am so grateful to Allison and Liz for all they did for John and for me. I will always be appreciative. 

Each month, Hospice offered a 5-day respite, whereby John would spend 5-days at a local nursing home, leaving me with all that time to do whatever I wanted. I usually spent that time cleaning the house without interruption, playing my favorite music as loud as I wanted, and even singing, which I could never do in anyone else's company because I suck at it. John was always quick to point that out. More laughter! Sometimes I went out with friends, but usually, I just needed time to chill alone. 

John would call me in the mornings and sometimes throughout the day. We would talk about the latest goings on in the political world, people I'd heard from, what was going on with our two kids and their families, and of course, the weather which we old people often obsess over. I told him when he was at respite and he'd call me, it was like having a boyfriend. On the last day, I was always anxious for him to come home, only to begin the often painful cycle again.

I make no excuses, but must admit that respite was a lifeline for me. Caring for him, monitoring his medications, vital signs, and trying to keep him as healthy as I could was exhausting. At the same time, I cared for our aging cat family, did all the chores, and tried keeping up with everything to run a household. It was especially hard when I got sick. And, I seemed to be sick often. Constant worry and wondering what to do if something happened to him or to me, caused constant anxiety. The responsibility was often times more than I could cope with.

Today, I find myself thinking about all that has happened, not just in the last eight years, but the years when we were so happy here, exploring new places and enjoying the beauty of our surroundings. We both loved it here, and although we miss our friends and family back home, we loved where we live.

The last eight years were dark days for sure. And although I miss my life partner and companion, I wouldn't want to revisit all that we went through again. 

So now I sadly wear my new title. It is hard to say it out loud. I am a widow!

The wounds are still fresh, but I know I will be OK. I've always been resilient. I'm proud to have survived those dark days. And, my heart is full as I feel the love of friends, family, and everyone around me who have been so helpful. I know I have leaned on so many. That is not something I'm comfortable doing, but they have kept me standing.

One of my favorite words is 'understanding.' 

I now practice that on myself as I try to sort out the often conflicting emotions I now feel. I am looking through a lens of awareness and hopefulness where once there was neither. I will always miss John. And, I will always talk to him, as if he is still here. I may not verbalize those words, but they are there, even if only in my head where only I can hear them. I have finally come to the realization that he isn't just at respite and is not coming home again. But he left me with so many thoughts, so many memories, two beautiful children, and a lifetime of laughter. Who can ask for anything more? I'll be OK.