Finding Keepers

As is his wont, Mr. Ginley picked up a book at random at the library last week. He mentioned that I might like to read it.

I did and was taken with both the stories in it and the theme.

Entitled, What We Keep, the book was penned by Naomi Wax and Bill Shapiro (no relation to Harry, as far as I know).

The idea was to collect 150 stories from random people, famous and not, of an object that is special to them, and why.

This got me thinking about all of the stuff I've accumulated over the years, and  what, among the flotsam and jetsam, has special meaning to me.

There are things that belonged to my parents, the letters my mom sent me when I lived in Virginia and hand-made cards from Mr. Ginley and Joe.

But I wanted to dig a little deeper and a little farther back. And that's when I landed on the toys of my early childhood.

The magnetic board with the alphabet letters. My dolls and stuffed animals. The child-sized wooden rocking chair. The toy piano with the one key that stuck and the Casper the Friendly Ghost plastic guitar -- alas, my only forays into music (and both of which are long gone, so unable to participate in this exercise).

I landed on two objects that held a special place in my heart.

First, the hobby horse that I rode and rode and rode, as far as my imagination would take me. It doesn't look like much now, but boy howdy, I thought it was something back in the day. Now the reins are frayed and the horse's head wobbles atop the stick. But it still makes me smile.

As does the Music Box Sweeper. Someone stepped on it (probably me) and dented the top. But I could still help my mom sweep up. It has a "Genuine Swiss Music Box" inside that plays, "This is the way we (fill in the task) so early in the morning."

As I recall, my mom had a hard time getting me to understand it was a toy and that she still had to sweep the floor for real.

One of the things I find endearing about my sweeper is it depicts both boys and girls doing the various tasks (although, admittedly, there are more girls than boys).

Maybe I'm just weird, but I love hearing stories about the things that people keep.

So if you've got a story, please spill.

Or, at the very least, take a minute or two to think about what you've chosen to hold dear.

Who Needs Pants?

The opening shot was an elderly woman in a knee-length fur coat, sashaying along the streets of New York, her birdlike legs clad only in black tights. A hat crowned her grey hair, a jaunty scarf tied around her neck. Perched on her face were ginormous eyeglasses.

As she strolled along the sidewalks, adoring fans came up and told her how much they loved her. One man asked for a selfie with her.

So, who was the object of all this attention? Broadway actress Elaine Stritch.

The documentary was entitled Shoot Me, and was filmed in 2013, a year before Stritch passed away.

I love documentaries that explore the lives of people who are not in my stratosphere. And that is certainly the case with Ms. Stritch.

What I discovered about her was that she had a ton of talent and enjoyed a career that spanned 88+ years.

She told a story about dating President Kennedy before he became Commander in Chief. It was a brief period -- only two dates. On the second date, she invited him up for a night cap. His response was something to the effect of, if she was going to play records and serve him eggs and nothing else, he was not interested.

He didn't come up.

Noel Coward, disparaging a play Stritch was in (but recognizing her talent), offered her a part in his new musical, Sail Away. Stritch took on the role of leading lady and was nominated for a Tony for her performance. Her career took off.

Over the course of her lifetime, Stritch eventually won a Tony, along with several Emmy Awards.

She had a love affair with Ben Gazarra. She had a thing for Rock Hudson. And she asserted Kirk Douglas professed his love for her, although she did not return his affections.

In 1973, Stritch married the love of her life, Actor John Bay. The pair enjoyed wedded bliss until Bay's tragic death from brain cancer in 1982. She never married again.

Stritch was very candid about her alcoholism, which worsened after the death of her husband. She got it under control, but not before it contributed to the onset of diabetes, which plagued her for the rest of her life.

She was candid (and that's quite the understatement) about everything. In the documentary, she was coming up on the end of her life, and she vacillated between being at peace with the inevitable and being terrified.

Her residence in New York was the Carlyle Hotel. She also lived for a time at the Savoy in London.

Stritch played Alec Baldwin's mother in 30 Rock. She was buds with James Gandolfini. And she did a one-woman show called Elaine Stritch at Liberty.

The documentary was fascinating. Now I'm ready to read the book.

Let's hear it for the ladies who lunch...everybody rise...

Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot?

I've never been one for New Year's resolutions. To me, January 1st is just another day.*

Although, I must say, I was mighty glad to give 2019 the boot.

It's been challenging to live in the moment and plan for an uncertain future at the same time.

But it has had its rewards.

• I've spent a lot of time with Mr. Ginley. We've walked miles and miles of park trails, discovering new places and revisiting tried-and-true paths.

• Joe and I have continued our weekly breakfasts. I'm so proud of my kid, and he remains one of my favorite people. In August, he'll bring Jill into the fold. I hope she's ready for us!

• The opportunity to regularly meet with my friend, Chris, has been a godsend. I realize just how much I've missed seeing her every day.

• I took Excel classes at the library. And some (free) online courses to beef up my skills.

• A big blessing came in the form of a freelance copywriting job. So far, I've created 60+ pages of content. From researching and writing, I've honed my skills and learned a ton about my subjects. I really do love to write.

• How do you convert films to DVD? I learned from Axel.

• Who knew designing websites was so easy? I managed to create three of them. Programs like Wix made it a breeze.

• Mr. and I discovered all the things we can live without. We haven't missed the cable much. Our local libraries have plenty of DVDs, and we've watched many classics. (I've even managed to sit through some westerns.) And we've done a lot more reading. As an added benefit, our electric bill has gone down.

• Cooking has become less of chore, especially when I remind myself how much we save by not eating out several times a week.

• Our resident feline has enjoyed having me around. Maggie and Mr. Ginley fight like cats and dads, and I've had to intervene on many occasions. "Put her down, she doesn't like to play 'Tick Tock Kitty Clock.'" Every time I sit down, Maggie plants herself on my lap. Or on my face. (She doesn't quite get the concept of my needing to breathe.)

Hopefully, 2020 will be a more prosperous year for all of us.

Although, until I wrote this, I hadn't realized what an amazing year 2019 had actually been.

*Except for the Rose Bowl. Mr. Ginley and I watched The Game at a local bar and had a nog of ale.

Christmas Letters Revisited

As we were getting ready to label our Christmas cards this year, we stumbled across one of our old Christmas letters.

Those of you familiar with this yearly missive may join me in waxing nostalgic. Or perhaps you will give thanks that we dispensed with this particular tradition. (In which case, you should probably stop reading right here.)

In any case, I thought it might be fun to do a "greatest hits" from the yearly letters, which were written over the course of 21 years, from 1992-2012.

I've included some recurring characters. The scores from the OSU games have been omitted (sorry/not sorry, Mr. Ginley).

So, without further ado...

October 1992
Bill and Barb buy a new house. It has five bedrooms and two bathrooms. A small Korean family moves into the basement.

September 1993
As Barb's due date draws near, Bill begins to shop the local Sears' baby department. He finally locates a baby that looks like a keeper. He is named Joseph Francis and he bears a remarkable resemblance to his dad. Best of all, he is 50% off the ticketed price. (Bill always was a smart shopper.)

December, 1994
The family prepares for the holidays with a visit to Santa Claus. Unfortunately, Jolly 'Ole St. Nick is hitting the eggnog a little too hard. Looks like Mother is getting strippers, Bill will receive tickets to the Children's Farm to see the calves play, Barb can expect scented bass oil and Joe is getting a big purple Barney Fife.

April 1995
After being pushed, pulled and whacked on the head repeatedly by Joe, Marge [the cat] quietly plots her revenge. Bill is able to stop her just before she slips a little vodka in Joe's juice.

June 1996
Barb's sister, Diane, comes to stay while working at a job in Strongsville. Her first night, she locks herself in her room and wails, "They're nuts, God help me, they're nuts!"

March 1997
The Korean family firmly established elsewhere, the Ginleys decide to rent out their basement to Magnus ver Magnusson, formerly the World's Strongest Man, whose presence comes in handy when it's time to clean behind the refrigerator.

October 1998
Joe meets the President of the United States [Bill Clinton]. (For real.) He doesn't realize whom he has shaken hands with -- he only gets excited when Bill tells him he can tell his friends. And no, you rotten cynics, Joe didn't wash his hand afterward!

April 1999
Bill is surprised on his birthday when Meg Ryan stops by to wish him a Happy 40th. Just as she is about to bestow pleasures heretofore unimagined, Barb wakes him up.

April 2000
Forced by powers beyond their control, the Ginleys visit the Bide-a-Wee Cat Shelter, where a saucy feline performs the Vulcan mind meld. They are compelled to take her home and call her "Mabel."

January 2001
Having been informed by his doctor that he must lose weight and exercise, Bill says, "So long, Mr. Goodbar," "Au Revoir, Dr. Pepper" and "Goodbye, Mr. Chips."

April 2002
Joe hits a foul shot from the foul line at the Gund Arena after a Cavaliers game. They offer to sign him up, but Joe's agent holds out for that "sixth year."

May 2003
For our 15th (crystal) anniversary, Barb sells her CD player to buy Bill a watch crystal. Bill sells his watch to surprise Barb with a Crystal Gale CD. O. Henry!

March 2004
Barb finally receives a coveted promotion to Copy Manager. Xerox promptly sends her a complimentary ream of paper.

September 2005
Rather than celebrating his birthday, we instead celebrate the completion of Joe's first rotation of Jupiter around the sun (which happens once every 12 years).

March 2006
Joe, along with his Uncle Michael, visits his Uncle Brian in sunny LA, while Barb and Bill pine away for him in cold, snowy Cleveland. Joe visits the San Diego Zoo, Disneyland, Universal Studios and the Rose Bowl. Barb and Bill visit with Big Boy, Burger King and Colonel Sanders.

March 2007
Barb wins the Achievement of Excellence Award at work, entitling her and Bill to cruise the Caribbean. An unhappy Bill realizes the u-boats that once missed his Dad will now have a shot at him.

October 2008
Mr. Clean dies. In his memory, we decide to throw all of our garbage in the corners and refuse to clean the house. We fly a dirty dish rag at half staff for the entire month. The first man we knew who wore an earring. He will be missed.

October 2009
Looking for something a bit more sophisticated to participate in at school, Joe joins the Billiards Club at St. Ignatius. "Now we got trouble, right here in River City..."

March 2010
Romper, bomper, stomper do. Who'll no longer be watching you? Miss Barbara. That's who. Miss Barbara from Romper Room passes away. At last, finally free to be a "Don't Bee!"

September 2011
Our warranty runs out on the 22nd. I guess we'll just have to keep Joe now. Sears wouldn't even take him in trade on a newer model!

August 2012
Joe starts his college career at John Carroll University. With Joe now in a dorm, we invite Chuck to come back home. Oh Happy Days!

Thrifting, Not Gifting

Christmas is turning into a second Thanksgiving of sorts for me.

Given that we are celebrating on the down-low, I have many things to be thankful for. There is no need to join the fray of crazed shoppers in a quest for the perfect gift. I didn't have to strain my noggin to come up with a list of stuff for my loved ones to buy me. And I've had to give zero consideration as to whether to acquire an ugly sweater to wear to a work function.

Mr. Ginley and I will spend our December 25th in our sweats, noshing and watching a selection of classic movies we've already procured from our local library. We'll talk about Christmases past. Laugh about the time his mom had a little too much wine but awoke with no after-effects. Or when my sister came home from a date and caught my little brother scoping out the loot one Christmas Eve.

The lack of hoo-ha may not be everyone's cup of tea, but it works for us.

Meanwhile, to support my original theme of giving thanks, I've compiled a list of The 12 Gifts of Christmas I will be thankful not to get this year.

1. Scratch the World Travel Map. The theory is, you scratch off the places on the map you've visited over the course of the year. Given our heady jet-set romps, the map would remain largely unscratched, except for Ohio, which would be obliterated.

2. Bambüsi Bamboo Cheese Board. Our personal food guru is Alton Brown, who says you should avoid purchasing a gadget that does only one thing. It just clutters up your kitchen cupboards, and when you do need to use it, you'll forget where you put it.

3. Skin Gym Facial Roller. No one will be surprised that I'm not up on make-up trends. Apparently, this little knick-knack rolls over your face to do something that makes you look younger. To me, it looked like the rollers we used during paste-up to keep copy in place on mechanicals. (Chris and Kim and Judie will know what I'm talking about.)

4. Name Earrings. In all the years I worked for a jeweler, I never did get my ears pierced. Mostly because my hair was so thick, it covered my ears, so you wouldn't be able to see the earrings anyhow. Also because it was one more thing to have to think about in the morning. Even if I did have pieced ears, however, I would not get eponymous earrings. The cashier at Heinen's already knows my name, it's on my checks.

5. Golden Girls Chia Pet. Some would argue that Chia Pets are a classic holiday gift. I've even known folks who read the instructions and followed the progress of the sprouts as they sprang forth. Different strokes, I guess. I never had a pet rock, either.

6. Tiki Tunes. A pair of wireless speakers depicting tiki torches may be the star of the show for someone's outdoor luau, but I'll pass, thanks. Aloha (meaning "goodbye," in this case.)

7. Long Distance Touch Lamps. The perfect gift for the helicopter mom, one lamp remains at home while the other, presumably, sits in her child's dorm room at college. Equipped with wi-fi, when one person touches their lamp, the other lamp lights up. Ah, I can picture the tender scene, young Sally sitting in her room on Saturday night, periodically tapping her lamp, so Mom knows she is thinking about her. I can't think of any scenario where this doesn't end in heartbreak for Mom. So, nope.

8. Candles. I love candles, but I confine their use to bath time, when I can close the door and keep the cat out. Kitties are fascinated by the flame, and I've had nightmares about Maggie catching fire and running around the house, setting the place ablaze.

9. Darth Vader Clapper. Clap on, clap off, welcome to the dark side, Luke. I'll grant you, this has high kitsch value, but once you've done your parlor trick for guests, it would get old pretty quickly. Perhaps if it had a 30-day return policy...

10. Genetic Ethnicity Test. Mr. Ginley and I have done lots of genealogical research. His family hails from Ireland. Mine is mostly from Germany and Switzerland. No need for an expensive test. That was easy!

11. GPS Smart Dog Collar. Also an easy "no thanks," given that we don't have a dog. Although it might come in handy for Maggie the Magnificent, who can make herself magically disappear and reappear with a casual, "Oh, you were looking for me?"

12. Wireless Home Security System.  If Santa wants to know if I've been naughty or nice, he'll just have to figure it out the old-fashioned way.

A very Happy/Merry/Jolly Christmas/Hanukkah/Festivus. I hope you all find peace and solace in whichever way you choose to spend your day.

And I hope Santa brings you all your heart desires!

Mr. Gets His Due

"You never write about me," complains Mr. Ginley every time I struggle for a blog topic.

Of course, we all know this isn't so.

But it's also true that I've devoted a larger portion of my blog to my son and my cat.

And so, in the interest of fairness, I've decided to devote this space to my life partner, the man who is king of the vast Ginley estates, the only one I know who can document every important event in our lives based on the sporting event that took place that day.

I've come up with some of the (repeatable) phrases that have either tickled my fancy or elicited an eye roll. Or, sometimes, made me glad us two quirksters found each other.

Bon apetit.

"If it weren't for me, you'd be living in Lakewood with 50 cats."

"Here's how it works: If I ask, it's begging. if you ask, it's nagging."

"This all becomes academic if we win the lottery and become millionaires in the next couple of weeks."

"Cat, I'm gonna beat you like a red-headed mule."

"You married me. Isn't that the act of a desperate woman?"

"I gotta go where the goddam dirt is."

"I beg to differ. And I beg a lot."

"I saved you from a life of loneliness and desperation."

"The proposal of record is the one where you asked me to marry you, because every time I asked you, you said no."

"Even a blind squirrel finds a monkey every now and again."

"Joe was acting up today, so I demoted him to house plant. I told him to stand in the corner and photosynthesize."

"Cats don't live in your house, they live in your heart."

Bing and Rosie and Danny and Vera-Ellen

Sisters, Sisters, there were never such devoted sisters...

My own sister, Diane, used to sing this (sans the feathers). If you're a fan of the movie White Christmas, you know what I'm talking about.

It being the season to be jolly and all, I got a copy of the Christmas classic from the library and watched it last night. Mr. Ginley took a pass, but he stayed in the other room and didn't make any comments, so it was a win-win for me.

I kept oggling at the costumes and marveling. Yes, I discovered, they were indeed designed by Edith Head.

The dancing was fun. Vera-Ellen was quite the hoofer. She even managed to recover from Danny Kaye tripping her once. I couldn't believe those legs. I don't think I've ever seen legs that loooonnnng. Fun fact: Back home in Cincinnati, Vera-Ellen used to carpool to dancing classes with Doris Day.

The real life ages of the actors were all off. Bing Crosby was old enough at that point to be Rosemary Clooney's dad. And although she played Vera-Ellen's older sister, Rosemary was actually several years younger in real life.

(Yes, the Google is an amazing thing.)

I do enjoy the fantasy of a classic song-and-dance musical. I can't think of any modern film that can compare. There's not much dancing and singing in movies anymore.

Unless you count Mama Mia. Which, sorry to any fans out there, I just couldn't get through (not even the first one).

I'll probably be watching a lot of other holiday flicks in the coming weeks, but I won't torture you with the details or fun facts.

But for now, I have two more tidbits. Bob Fosse was the choreographer for White Christmas. And they used a grown-up photo of Carl Switzer (aka "Alfalfa") for the photo of Benny Haynes, the sisters' brother.

Sorry, one more fun fact. Irving Berlin, the composer of the song White Christmas, was the only Oscar winner to open his own envelope at the awards ceremony. What was Berlin's acceptance speech?

"I'm glad to present the award. I've known him for a long time."