Scary Movies Scare Me

I blame my childhood - watching Creature Feature featuring Dr. San Guinary on Omaha's KMTV channel 3 (one of 3 channels we SW Iowa folks got). 

Dr. San Guinary

The goofy, somewhat scary character hosted a show that ran old horror movies on weekends in the early 1970's through 1982. The early seventies were when I was home weekends - staying with my baby sister Betsy, guarded only by our faithful doggy Jud. Those old black and white movies, like "The Blob" were creepy! Suddenly the noises houses make took on a new meaning! I'm sure every light in the house was on when Mom and Dad returned from Poker Club.

Jud the dog

In high school, we were sometimes desperate for entertainment - and the only movie was a horror movie. I spent more time with my eyes covered than not. I love to read suspense - but do not like suspense in movies! I always scream like a little girl. One movie involved a lady's head - her eyeball and a paper spindle. I still have spindle trust issues!

I blame peer pressure in a weak moment for causing me to go to the original Halloween movie in Ames while I was a college student. My friends and I were so freaked out after the movie we had to get a guy friend to check out the back seat of the car before we drove back to our apartment.

This was about as scary as our Halloween costumes got

When I became a mother I wisely chose to avoid scary movies - though they were on TV every Halloween. I'm sorry to say I passed my weakness of heart for scary movies over to Jud. He'd get one glimpse at Chucky and have bad dreams for weeks! We avoided scary stuff at our house - we didn't want the poor kid scarred for life. Amy was a bit bolder, but preferred mystery movies over horror.

Today - I still avoid horror. I still scream when surprised in suspense movies - and gory ones. Though I must admit - I'd still rather see a human get it rather than the horse or the dog... Confession - I did just watch one of my all-time fave kid movies last Saturday when I caught it switching between football games - "Goonies". It was filmed on our beloved Oregon west coast area by Cannon Beach. 

Just Like Family

My sister Betsy is saying goodbye to "Grandma Helen" this week. She is the woman who helped the Kohans raise their family of five children - providing loving grandma-like childcare for a family who doesn't have relatives living nearby. When Betsy and Wayne needed time away, Helen, a friend's mother, would come to stay with the Kohan family.

Kohans - 2000? 

Grandma Helen always sounded to me like Lulubelle, a wonderful woman who helped raise many families Atlantic where I grew up. Her real name was Lulu Herbert, a woman who lost her husband (a Phillips 66 longtime employee if I remember right) at a fairly young age. She started a gig house-sitting, complete with kids and dogs/cats etc. Parents all across town were overjoyed.

One young charge started calling her Lulubelle, and the name stuck! She stayed with the Bullocks many times and she was a Belle of a gal and we loved her like a grandmother. Our grandparents lived in town but retired to sunny Florida each winter - which was often when Mom and Dad wished to travel.

Lulubelle drove a groovy AMC Javelin car. She was an awesome, if messy cook. My sisters and I still reminisce about her fried chicken, homemade noodles and sugar and chocolate chip cookies! She gave me her sugar cookie recipe when I got married. I cherish it!

Sometimes Lulubelle would be "double-dipping" and we'd go with her to another family's house and hang out with those kids, like the Cook family Terri, Sarah and Barb. Now that's a lot of girls! Or the Swishers, which I loved because they had boy toys. Unfortunately, their dog bit Betsy's face when she touched his bad leg. That led to stitches at Dr. Wilcox's office downtown. Betsy bit the nurse who also had to have a tetanus shot. That was an exciting day!

Born in 1900, Lulubelle lived a long life, passing away in 1997 in California where her daughter lived. I don't remember the last time I saw her. I wish I would have paid more attention to her and others who were so important in my young life. I should have visited them when I went back to Atlantic. But like many in their young adulthood - I was all about me. At some point, Lulu moved to California to be near family members, and the chance to see her was lost.

It was when we were about this age that Lulabelle used to stay with us, and after Susi went to college

Family relationships are important, but so too are those who weave their way into our lives, filling important roles such as childcare (with love). Maybe they need us too. They need to be needed. Sometimes those relationships are temporary. Other times they last a lifetime.

Here's to Grandma Helen, loving keeper of the Kohan children and to Lulubelle Herbert, who corraled the Bullock girls and fed them well. Perhaps you have a pretend Aunt or Uncle in your family in your life. Don't lose track and visit them when you can. No regrets!

Speaking of characters...

Isn't it interesting that as I am writing a series of blogs on characters, a big character emails me pics of a group of my high school classmates - including himself.

Todd Pellett, Jeff Becker, Kirk Wickman, Jack Bunce, Roger Underwood met up in NYC recently where they all dressed like CEOs

That person is Roger Underwood of course. I didn't know Rog until we reached Junior High School in Atlantic, Iowa. That's where all the presidents (the elementary schools in town are named after Washington, Lincoln and Jackson) spewed forth the kids to come together into one student body. He was in Mrs. Royalty's reading class with me.

I took notice of Roger when I heard he was going to be a big brother. He was the youngest kid in the family. How embarrassing! Cuz we were like 13 years old, and I knew where babies came from at that point. Golly. Roger's mother eventually gave birth to Roger's brother Jeff - and the family was complete. I got over the trauma of thinking about where babies come from.

I think Roger must have been one of those kids who was born a grown up. You know the type - they can act silly and have fun, but even then they seem a bit more mature than the average kid. They converse well with adults and seem to have a plan for everything.

It turned out pretty well for Roger - after a successful four year stint at Iowa State University (he served as my roomie Sally's campaign chair for her successful run for Student Senate), he started a company with another classmate Jeff Becker. The company grew and grew until the two eventually sold it. I think they're members of the idle rich class now - but the seem to keep pretty busy with other businesses they dabble in. Roger likes to wear bow ties. He's married to Connie and they have a couple sons that are in their early 20's.

Seeing the guys in the photo really takes me back. In my opinion, I grew up in the "Wonder Years". A big group of girls and a large group of boys - in about sixth grade we began to notice each other. We started to rendezvous on weekends - to "play football" in the fall. Silly me, I really wanted to play football. I hadn't yet been struck by the hormone stick. Some of my friends had - they were all about flirting figuring out who liked whom. I wanted to run plays and score touchdowns (the football kind). Such a simple girl.

We had a lot of slumber parties during those years. Our poor parents - 12 screaming girls for a whole night? And guess what - the boys would usually have slumber parties the same nights we did. Coincidence? I think not. We often found a way to get together at least part of the night. I think it drove poor Anne Wickman (Kirk's mother) crazy - the whole girls after her son thing.

One time at Sherry Smith's party, the boys actually came in for a while. Greg Parker lived nearby and he had a houseful of guys. I think Betty and Ralph Smith got a kick of it. I remember getting to ride Robin Kautz's mini-bike in that neighborhood too. My parents would have freaked had they known.

I was oblivious as to how lucky I was to have:
a. such a big group of friends
b. a bunch of guys interested in hanging out with me and my friends
c.  parents that were willing to put up with our antics - slumber parties, schlepping around town to meet up with guys to "play football"
Today, at a ripe old age, I realize how blessed I was.

When we got a bit older we even started sneaking out to meet the boys. I mean um those other girls did that... not me Mom...it was all those boys' faults.

Childhood memories of summer

Paul and I are just back from a short bike ride. We scooped the loop. No - that doesn't mean what it used to - driving up and down Highway 6 in Atlantic! Today, to this 'ol gal it means riding my bike east on the WDM trail then south just past Jordan Creek Elementary School.

The trail runs along big back yards of some beautiful homes and a creek. Paul and I were quietly peddling - and I could hear the critters. I think they were locusts - singing, with their legs eeeoooeeeooo. The temperature was just right too. It's summer in Iowa! It took me back for a few minutes. Back to my childhood in Atlantic.

I recalled in an instant those fabulous summer evenings - playing with my sisters and the neighbor kids as the summer sun dwindled. I didn't want it to get dark, because I knew my Mom would call and we would have to go in for the night. Those summer days were golden - how lucky we were to have them.

Kick the can, Sardines, Ghosts in the Graveyard - it was such heady stuff when I got to play with the "Big" kids on warm, humid summer nights. We even stretched it out under some moonlit nights too. A few times put on plays, like "Little Red Riding Hood" in Reinertson's backyard - using their clothesline with a blanket for a curtain. My grandma, Momo typed the tickets on her IBM Selectric typewriter.

Tonight after we rode through the small park a couple blocks east of 60th Street, we turned and rode back north through a neighborhood. I was happy to see a gang of about eight kids in a front yard of one house. They sounded like they were counting off, perhaps to see who was "It" for their next game. There was one little guy - no doubt he got cheated into being "it", courtesy of being youngest. It's nice to know some things don't change.

On the way home, we rode along Jordan Creek on the north side of EP True, we heard a catbird call and some blackbirds made themselves known. It was a beautiful summer evening. There were lots of other bikers and walkers out tonight. Perhaps they too were on a walk down memory lane.

A view from the bridge we cross - taken earlier this summer

 Amy texted me last night from Nicaragua. She wanted to know if I'd gotten rid of her lava lamp when we moved. Um yes I did. It didn't really work anymore so I tossed it. Sorry. (no not really). I chuckled though. What the heck was she thinking about that for. Guess I'll have to wait until she gets home to find out...1 week to go!

Deep thoughts during mass

Once again during Holy Mass I was daydreaming. I know...I'm going straight to hell. At least I wasn't thinking about what I was going to eat next! I do enjoy the music, and try to listen. I just have a little MAD. (Mass Attention Disorder) I've had it since childhood. I don't think I'm the only one.

We attended our usual Saturday evening Mass. During Father Pin's homily, as he attempted to get his point across, he told the story of a little boy in a sand box. That's what got me started daydreaming. But then somebody's phone started ringing. And unfortunately they didn't answer it. The caller was a persistent bugger! Finally Father said -" I'll wait for you to get that before I go on". He wasn't snotty about it, though he had a right to be, really. So there was a break and he went on...and it rang again! He said, "Check your purse!" Finally, thank God (or some higher being) it stopped.

So I started thinking fondly about our old sandbox - while listening a bit to the story Father told of the kid who found a giant rock in his sandbox and wasn't strong enough to get it out, even though he tried and tried. Finally his dad came out and said why didn't you use all your resources? The kid says, "I did." But the dad says - you didn't ask me! So - now I get it - the dad is God and I'm the kid....enter the way-back machine.

Oh how I loved my sandbox at our house in Atlantic. It was made of plywood and had little triangle seats in the corners. When I was really little, it was right next to our driveway. By the swing set. Later, I don't know why, we moved the swing set into the back yard and the sandbox farther back, just below the deck - at the top of the woods.

Every so often my parents would have a load of new sand delivered - that was when it was most fun - before the neighborhood cats had their way with it. We would make roads in it, and sometimes add water to really make it moldable. I bet Mom hated it when we trotted in the house with our clothes all full of the stuff - but I don't remember a thing about that.

And so it goes - I did get the point of the homily, and had my walk down memory lane too! Plus I turned my cell phone off before church.

Stages

I think back about when the kids were young. It seemed I was always looking ahead to the next stage of their lives. It started right out of the chute. Literally - just after giving birth, I started reading those new mommy publications the hospital staff gave me, describing the different stages in the first few months of birth.

Let me just start out by saying newborn babies are scary! They're so needy and seem fragile. So I would take a bath and read ahead. (The bathtub was my sanctuary in those days. Who am I kidding, it still is! The tub was a place I could shed all the "equipment" post childbirth - nursing bra with breast pads, post childbirth sanitary napkins etc and Paul would be in charge of the babe).

I'd read to see what baby should be like at 1 month. I remember really looking forward to three months when the baby would start being more interactive - smiling. It's a big thing to get used to a new family member! There are lots of stages those first few years - smiling, rolling over, sitting up, adding solid food, and ahh sleeping through the night. That one took Jud a while.

I remember lusting for the time we no longer had to purchase and change diapers. It's funny - just like many things, you don't really know which diaper is your last and you quickly adjust to life without that thing that was so pervasive in your life. We got over the diaper stage very quickly after Jud was potty trained. (I was beginning to think he would go to pre-school in diapers).

When Amy and Jud grew up a little bit - grade school age, there were other stages. First grade brought a full day of school, after half day kindergarten. Why didn't I enjoy my time with those little kids more? The business of everyday life works against us I think.

Our children were never huge snugglers and lap sitters after toddlerhood. But we had our snuggly times. I distinctly remember walking into church with Amy, who at age 10 would still hold my hand. I thought to myself, "enjoy this time, it will be over soon."

Many stages were great while they lasted, but I wasn't sad to see the end. Like high school for the kids - and high school sports. We (mostly) enjoyed them. Hanging with the other parents was fun - especially Jud's group. But it was time to be over.

This time of year, I find myself missing little A&J. The excitement of Christmas and Santa. Amy reading the children's bible - the story of Jesus birth. It was a cheap book I guess, and the print wasn't the best. Amy was surprised to read that Marv gave birth to Jesus! I miss reading to the kids and having them sit on my lap.

For now, I'll enjoy this stage of our lives. Empty nest, young adult children. Life is good.

Red Rover

Above - Washington Elementary in Atlantic. Far right is the site of Mrs. Christiansen's Kindergarten, where Tommy Sandhorst peed around the tile clock on the floor, and Robbie Dob got me in trouble for talking during nap time. Yep, I'm blaming her and Dan Mason!

This brisk weather's got me thinking about my brown corduroy coat. I must have been in about 4th or 5th grade at Washington Elementary School - the newest of Atlantic's 3 elementary schools, when I wore it.

The schools included: Jackson Jackass - the oldest school in town. Heck my daddy went there. Lincoln Stinken was next oldest - right along Highway 6 in town. In the early 50's the town built Washington Washtub the Bullock girls' alma mater. It was in the newer part of town, and because of that, we Washington kids were perceived as the "rich kids." No matter which school we went to, we all had competitive spirits hence the naughty nicknames to go with!

Speaking of competitive, I'm the first to say I'm not a real competitive person - in MOST things. (yeah, I know Cyclone sports bring out the worst of my competitive juices). Example A: the DM 1/2 Marathon last week. Sure I was interested in my time - to see how I compare to what pace I usually walk. But I'm not interested in killing myself in order to win.

During my childhood I had an older sis who would beat me every chance she got to - even if she had to cheat! (Yeah that's you Cindo, moving your bombs in Stratego). And Betso had a fit if she didn't win, so sometimes I went easy on her just so I didn't have to deal with it.

But put me up against a boy in athletic type events and I was all about competition! I've mentioned before what a tomboy I was. I was jealous that they got all the good stuff. Cub Scout uniforms were much cooler looking than the brownie dresses I had to wear. That great blue color and oh that neckerchief! Boys got to play sports - and 60's girls only got to look forward to being a cheerleader.

So when it came to physical education (or gym class) and recess, I tried to be as good as any boy there. And before puberty I probably was equal to many of them in speed, strength, agility. Before my muy largo Pat B. legs grew, slowing me down. Yes, I will blame my mommy all my life for large legs and a small chest.

At recess, all my life I had a competition thing going on with boys. In pre-school at Mrs. Lewin's I explained in another blog about how we were playing boys chase girls, and I leaped off the large slide, falling on and breaking my arm.

Then in lower elementary, I remember again playing some type of tag. I had a reversable rain coat - with a red side and a blue side. I would tag someone, and then reverse the coat and dodge around the other kids playing jump rope and four square, trying to evade getting tagged.

In upper elementary, on a chilly muddy day like this one, we began to play the 'ol favorite "red rover" game. Where you form two lines, holding hands and facing each other. One team calls out "red rover, red rover send jimbob on over". Jimbob runs towards the other line and tries to break through the arms (holding hands) of two people in the other line. If he fails, he joins their line. If he wins he takes a "hostage" back to be in his line.

I was wearing my special brown corduroy coat on this particular day. I was known for being strong (at least in my own mind) and breaking through even the strongest of bonds on the opposing team. Sure enough, they called me on over. I decided to bust through between my nemesis, Greg Younger and some buddy of his. If I could do that - I'd be acclaimed all afternoon!

Please recall in those days, girls had to wear dresses every day, no matter how cold it might be outside. How dumb was that? Oh but ladylike! So in my slickery school shoes, jumper and coat I barreled towards Greg, determined to bust through. Right when I reached them they let go, so I didn't meet any resistance! Somehow I slipped on a patch of mud just beyond the line of kids and fell flat, getting my coat all muddy. And getting my pride all muddy as well. I don't remember if I cried, but I do remember being humiliated. Guess that's how I remember it some 40 years later!
Oh the angst of childhood. Sometimes I wonder how I survived.

purloined 'puter

I'm sneaking my roomie and landlady Joan's lovely HP 15" computer to write this. Don't tell my Dell! Joan took it to work today to ship it via FedEx (where she works) back to the Dell Baby Factory for "some work". Dell can't come home fast enough for me!

But the Dell story reminds me of just one of the little mind-games my dad used to play on us. Yes, I've mentioned before that he was a bit of a sadist. Pretending the car was out of gas by lurching on the gas-pedal, sending 4 little girls into spasms of fear. He called that game "bump the peg", after the way the gas gauge looks when it's nearly empty and the indicator is resting on the E. My mother spent a lot of time chastising him "Oh Dave, cut it out!" she'd yell.

The Baby Factory game was when he would not like our behavior, and would swing by the old Cass County Hospital where we were born (thus Baby Factory) and threaten to leave us there. It was a scary looking place, 3 stories brick and very forboding. I once had my stomach pumped there after drinking lighter fluid - New Years Eve when I was 3 or so. My sis Susi recalls one time, Dad went so far as to take her inside the old place while they were remodeling and there were plastic sheets hanging from the ceiling. So it was scarier than usual! Scared Straight anyone?

Another little thing Dad liked to do was to try to freak us out about supper. Betsy would notice that we were grilling (that was the only time Dad was on food duty back then) and ask "what's for supper tonight Daddy?" and he'd say something like "Dead Chicken". Just because he knew that would gross us out. Back then they would buy whole chickens to grill - the grill had a rotisserie, and they'd even cook the hearts. They were quite crunchy and satisfying. Kinda reminds me of the 'ol Bill Cosby Turtle Heads routine.

Dad couldn't get to Cindy though. If we were having steak he might say we were having snake, and she'd say "yum!" That Cindy liked (and still likes) everything. Or he'd say "We're having Frog Legs" and she'd ask, "Are they green?" When she was around 12, the whole fam was in a New Orleans restaurant and Mom was busy with Betso and me, who were only 9 and 5 years old. So Mom didn't notice what Cindy ordered until they brought out a whole horse shoe crab for her enjoyment! I think I got spaghetti and meatballs - I'm much saner (read boring) than Cindo when it comes to food!

Dad and Cindy made life interesting! Cindy and I are built like our mother - very sturdy thighs and legs. I sent her a copy of an article I read in the New York Times saying a new study shows that women with larger thighs have fewer heart problems. So we've got that going for us!