Round One: Birth

You come on with it, come on

You don’t fight fair

But that’s okay, see if I care

Knock me down, it’s all in vain

I get right back on my feet again

Hit me with your best shot

Why don’t you hit me with your best shot

Hit me with your best shot

Fire away… from Hit Me With Your Best Shot, the Pat Benatar song.

Many songs have been written about the difficulties of existence. Love, hate, sex, every emotion that affects the human condition has been analyzed, examined, written and sung about.

I have noticed a huge difference in the way young people today are prepared for life as opposed to the Baby Boomer generation.

We didn’t have video games that taught us to shoot, fight demons or tackle extraordinary tasks.

We had Roy Rogers, Superman and Mickey Mouse as our leaders. We were taught snide and sarcastic by a little stinker of a rabbit called Bugs.  No one actually believed you could travel through space on Flash Gordon’s cardboard spaceship.

Superman jumping in the air to fly didn’t inspire us to jump off a roof. Or at least hopefully most of us.

And come on, although we laughed our asses off when Coyote fell off that cliff and was crushed by an anvil, we never believed it was real.

It was all fun, but did it teach us life skills? Well maybe to buy everything at Acme.

I understand that life was very different in our era. Sure there were bad guys and mobsters, but we knew there was also a real live Eliot Ness to battle them.

We were taught that despots would be destroyed by armies of soldiers battling evil. And win.

It was also very clear that Mickey Mouse had the power to make anything happen on Wednesdays.

Honestly in many ways we were ill-prepared for the challenges or the dangers we’d face. Still, although many of those came much later in life, we did learn very quickly how to fight.

When we were called to battle in Viet Nam it was a shock to the system of an entire generation. Sadly, we didn’t cope with that battle very well. Perhaps it was the lack of tools.

Maybe life is simple and people make it hard.

If everyone just took a minute to breathe and reflect on the things that would simplify one’s trials and tribulations. In just a short time it would become clear, sometimes we just need better equipment.

Can a builder construct a house without tools? Or a doctor operate without instruments? Could you bake Toll House cookies without chocolate chips? Outrageous!

We all do better when we have the right tools for the job at hand.

In life the job is often surviving. Overcoming obstacles and fighting demons, from within and without.

Can you imagine how much easier life would be if the doctor strapped boxing gloves on us at birth. We’d be ready to do battle from day one.

However, it is a long time for most of us before we have to do any serious fighting. Our parents usually intercede to be our protectors until we reach a certain age. And when we reach that age what survival skills have been honed?

Our lives have been colored by a comfortable bubble that has allowed us to grow and thrive.

We are fed, housed and loved until reality kicks in. At least that’s the hope.

Recent generations have been more alerted to life. They understand war at its grittiest because they play it online as an avatar. They know about attack on their own home turf after 9/11. They have a far different view of life than a generation that loved Casper the Ghost.

So is it a matter of preparation, or a matter of stealing childhood?

Are Baby Boomers better off because we were caught off guard by a war on the other side of the planet? Were we tough enough to rise to the challenge, or too weak and chose to march instead?

Does playing video games, watching violent television shows and living in more turbulent times toughen you up or make you want to run and hide?

It’s a bit ironic that young people today are so sensitive. You can’t say anything to them that offends or invades their space. Even with all their violent video games and movies.

Baby Boomers seemed able to laugh so much off and ignore the rest. When bad came to our door we’d hide behind our parents and let them handle it. But when they didn’t, we had to and did.

So was ease and pampering simply a good way to make us feel secure and capable? Did we need to play at killing to rise up to the occasion?

Are heroes born or allowed to become?

Baby Boomers in some ways seemed idealistic and ill-prepared for parts of life that arose suddenly without warning. Still, we seemed to find the strength somewhere.

Are young people today any tougher or stronger for their games and toys?

Does being aware of the world make you any more adept at taking it on?

Truly I don’t think so.

Wearing boxing gloves doesn’t make you Mohammed Ali. And killing monsters on Xbox doesn’t help you defeat the real-life ones.

So what are the real tools we need to do battle?

The same that have always existed. Strength, determination, brains, fortitude and mostly a great sense of humor.

Because in the end laughter makes it less scary and shrinks problems down to a size you can conquer.

So, laugh it up guys and fasten your seat belts cause the craziness that is life isn’t going to change anytime soon.

Because as they say, whoever this they is, “it’s not how you start, but how you finish that matters.”

Wishing you all some overflowing tool boxes.

What the Heck is a Magic Twanger, Froggy?

We all grow up with idols. I imagine who or what we choose to emulate is a reflection of our character.

So here goes and please don’t judge me.

My favorite TV personality growing up in the fifties was, drum roll please…Froggy the Gremlin from Andy’s Gang.  Hiya, Kids Hiya Hiya. Words to live by I say.

Yes, Baby Boomers were lucky to grow up with such a brilliant and hysterical array of puppets and unforgettable characters.

Although I loved Howdy Doody, Rootie Kazootie, White Fang and Black Tooth, Kukla Fran and Ollie and all the others, Froggy the Gremlin from Andy’s Gang holds a special place in my heart.

“Why?” you ask.

Who couldn’t love a frog with a deep bass voice in a suit? One who drives everyone around him crazy and gets them tearing their hair out, and screaming while you roar with laughter?

Top that off with a black cat named Midnight that says nothing except “nice” and plays musical instruments badly. Hello, pure perfection.

The sponsor was even a little strange. Some kid with a pageboy and a dog announcing,

“That’s my dog Tige, he lives in a shoe.

I’m Buster Brown look for me in there too.”

The show followed a pretty straightforward formula. Andy Divine was the host who welcomed you each week singing the sage words:

You Got a Gang

I got a gang.  

Everybody’s got to have a gang.

But there’s only one real gang for me, Good old Andy’s gang.

It all seemed pretty harmless to me. But of course, our generation was nothing if not innocent.

There was also a short film mostly starring Gunga the Jungle Boy. He rode an elephant and had adventures.

Then there may be a musical number, but the highlight was always Froggy driving his music teacher, Pasta Fazooli, and everyone crazy. He’d twist and add to their words to completely change the meaning and make them look stupid.

By the time Froggy was done they were tearing their hair out and running screaming off the stage. Froggy just laughed evilly.

Okay, so what was so funny about that you ask?

I believe this is the same generation that thought that anything bought from Acme and used by Coyote was the funniest thing of life?

And most still do.

So did we have a warped sense of humor? Or was there something we missed in the violence and nastiness? Did this lead to aggressive behavior?  What is so funny about a frog creating chaos? Driving people to distraction and freaking out while a frog breaks into fits of laughter at their pain.

Could you ever imagine Big Bird slamming the lid down on Oscar’s head? Or Bert stealing Cookie Monster’s cookies? Or Kermit making Elmo cry?

Couldn’t happen.

I see irony here. After all Baby Boomers marched against war, despite the carnage they found so hilarious.

Seriously, Coyote falling off a cliff with an anvil aiming for his head? And don’t forget that dumb look on his face. Priceless.

Despite the fact we watched the Untouchables, Froggy Gremlin driving people out of their minds, Bugs creating havoc for everyone around him and Acme selling explosives, I thought we abhorred violence.

We marched against a war and made Peace, Love and Rock and Roll the watchwords of our generation.

We were Woodstock, The Chicago Seven and flower children. If true, how were we affected by the violence we found so uproariously funny?

“Watching violence in movies and on television is potentially harmful to your child. As early as the 1960s, studies reported that watching violence can make children more aggressive.”

This is what the experts claimed.

Still, is it true? It doesn’t seem to make any sense at all.

I always turn my head away from the horse head in the bed scene every time I watch The Godfather. And I have watched it a lot.

Were we being brainwashed to accept pain and destruction as commonplace? I never felt that way, but perhaps I was naïve.

Was Froggy the inspiration for Jedi mind control. After all what is different about Froggy changing the meaning of someone’s sentence and Luke saying “You will take me to Jabba?”

Was pluck your magic twanger, Froggy some sort of secret code for brainwashing?

Have the CIA and Mossad adopted it to use on terrorists?

How could anyone accuse Midnight the Cat, whose every word was “Nice,” of exhibiting aggressive behavior?

Let’s get real here. Do you really believe Baby Boomers were affected by Ming the Merciless when Flash Gordon chased him through space on his cardboard rocket ship?

Or wanted to emulate Superman when he hit the bad guy a foot away from his face?

For heaven’s sake people, have you forgotten about Lassie and Timmy?

Yes, I agree Viet Nam changed us. We were greatly upset by the Chicago Democratic Convention of 1968. No doubt about the horror we all felt watching the brutal violence against our peace efforts.

Yet no one can ever convince me that Froggy, Bugs or Yosemite Sam created a generation of violence-prone adults. Did we all grow up to be the Three Stooges?

Perhaps we were an angry generation, I’ll give you that one.

War, Watergate, John, Martin and Robert assassinations, drugs, the loss of innocence, all contributed to a feeling of frustration and hopelessness. But violence? I just can’t see it.

Yet, if I’m wrong about the impact, I’m not about the need for the laughter.

I admit our taste was a bit juvenile. But Froggy and his magic twanger (whatever that is) or Acme’s weapons list seemed to provide great laughs. After all Punch and Judy are older than dirt.

Can laughter be a bad thing? No one will ever convince me it can.

If you say it is I’ll get really angry with you and…

Never mind. Have a nice day.

It’s the Time of Year to Share Our Childhood Memories

This time of year is prone to dredge up memories of long ago tucked away in the recesses of one’s mind. I’m not quite certain it’s the holidays or perhaps that whole getting older and long-term memory that creates a sudden rush of childhood recollections.

I simply know that they are coming in droves.

Of course there is that desire to recapture earlier times spent with family and friends, laced with bittersweet emotions of loss and regret.

For myself living so far from my childhood home I find a lack of snow matters. No blanket of white feels as if an old friend that visited every season has deserted me in lieu of palm trees and blue skies.

Now believe me I’m not saying slipping and sliding along the streets in the cold and slush would be preferable, but there was something about falling snowflakes that just felt right.

I also seem focused on school around the holidays.

We strained at the bit to reach that last day before winter break when a teacher would dress up as Santa and pass out candy canes and Vernor’s Ginger Ale.

Our elementary school was named after James Vernor of the ginger ale company so they gifted us with their soda and candy canes each year.

Santa would be played by a teacher covered in a beard and of course we would whisper about who it might be as we waited in line for our treats.

Childhood seemed quite naïve and innocent so small moments were intensified and more special. We even believed hiding in the school basement under asbestos pipes would prevent an atom bomb from harming us. Silly, right?

Or that a wooden desk would hide us from a nuclear blast.  Either they didn’t know the truth or weren’t about to share it with all of us. Seems so foolish now.

Baby Boomers lived a life full of new discoveries. Television began small and black and white forcing us at times to strain to see the picture among snowy waves.

We used rabbit ear antennas on the television set covered with aluminum foil to enhance the signal as we moved them back and forth while our brother directed until the picture clarity was optimum.

Snowy or clear we rushed home to watch the Mickey Mouse Club and later American Bandstand. Our eyes transfixed on this new way to be entertained and transfixed.

I begged my mother to let me stay up and watch Milton Berle on Tuesday nights and still vividly remember the Texaco servicemen that started the show.

We had strange puppets like Rootie Kazootie and Howdy Doody with visible strings. We never minded or enjoyed them any less; in fact, being able to discern the strings was part of the fun. Every kid wanted to be part of the peanut gallery. Then, when a TV dinner on a metal tray table was added to the mix, it all seemed too perfect.

We even had party lines on the phone for a short time as the new technology was growing faster than the company could provide. Limiting use the phone to only certain times seems comical now when we can’t put it down for a minute.

Could you imagine kids today being told they had to share their phone with someone else? I believe it would lead to some violent revolution.

But to us it was a new magical instrument we were happy to have for any amount of time. A new way to broaden our horizons and communicate with friends.

There was no Google, only sets of Encyclopedias, no computers, only visits to the library branch nearest our homes.

We could spend a lazy summer afternoon reading and sharing comic books like Archie, Katy Keene or Superman with friends munching on snacks. Candy bars were two cents or a nickel and we drank cherry cokes or chocolate phosphates at soda counters served up by kids in white jackets and hats.

We played hopscotch, four square, jumped rope, played jacks and roller skated in metal skates with our key on a ribbon around our neck. Marbles clinked along the sidewalk and we traded movie star pictures cut out of fan magazines.

We ordered the scholastic books from school and couldn’t wait to read them when they arrived.

It seemed the smallest things were a big deal back then. Including rushing over to the first neighbor’s house on the block to own a color television.

Obviously, I’m waxing nostalgic about a time that is now gone forever. Our grandchildren are living in a new world filled with things we only read about in science fiction novels.

Technology that causes my eyes to glaze over as my kids or grandkids attempt to explain it to me.

Our children do battle to keep them innocent and away from the screens and kudos to them for doing so. Yet the world changes each day and new innovation is now moving at a faster pace than ever before.

I’m certain someday our grandchildren will look back on their childhoods with a sense of joy and wonder as we do, at least I hope so.

Was our innocence a good or bad trait? Were we blindsided a bit finding the future was often as scary as Orwell had predicted, or Flash Gordon was actually Neil Armstrong? Were we literally over the moon when man first landed there in front of our eyes?

Am I implying Baby Boomers don’t embrace this new world and its wonders? Heck no! We are all into it big time and enjoying the ride. It’s just nice to wax nostalgic at times and remember our innocence.

Each generation will experience new and uncharted roads to travel. I hope wonder and peace will continue to be a part of their journey. I know it was ours. As much as things change one thing never does…the smell of a turkey roasting in the oven on Thanksgiving. We can all be thankful for that.

Please share your memories with me, I’d love to hear them.

What Do You Do When There’s Nothing to Do?

What Do You Do

When There’s Nothing to Do?

“We are always the same age inside…” Gertrude Stein

There are way too many new realities to accept when you are talking about the laugh laugh golden years. One of these is that once you stop working and raising your children life changes.

So what do you do with all the extra time?

Despite claims otherwise ageism is the last and most accepted form of ism in America.

There doesn’t seem to be any downside to businesses or corporations that pass on hiring “older” people. No one would actually ever admit they weren’t hiring you for age reasons, but there are always red flags.

Years ago I interviewed for a newspaper job in Los Angeles with a business newspaper.

The editor was someone I had known and was very familiar with my work.

During the interview he asked, “would you feel out of place working among all young people?”

Hello, red flag warning and surprise of course I didn’t get that job.

I have a friend who is far past the retirement age for teachers. Due to tenure her job is secure and she can work up until the time she can no longer find her way to the school. I have no doubt that even after the state says she can no longer drive she will be Ubering to work every day.

I totally understand because she is absolutely someone who would be lost unless she had somewhere to go every day.  

However not everyone is a teacher with tenure, so what does a person who is perfectly capable of continuing to contribute to society do to keep functioning?

I always think about Iris Apfel who now in her nineties and still running a successful design business.

Let’s face it, it’s easier when you’re in the arts and a creative person to keep rolling on, but of course you needn’t be Picasso to enjoy taking art classes.

I’ve thought about ageing a great deal and have spoken about it many times so obviously it’s bugging me plenty. I guess I get extra whiny on this subject.

Here’s why. When I was a kid in Florida visiting my grandparents, I’d see older people sitting on the porches of the hotels across from the ocean, rocking and talking and I never thought that could happen to me, but maybe deep down I did. And I’m not judging. If someone is happy sitting and relaxing it’s all good.

Yet I must ask…what can you do when you have nothing to do?

If the pandemic taught us anything it’s that one can fill their days and let’s face it we were shoved into our homes to face and fill 24-hours.

Still we all found ways to be productive and even enjoy the down time away from the hustle and bustle of daily life.

Eventually we all figured out ways to POD with our families, work streaming TV and find places from which to order toilet paper.

I’m reminded of how much our lives became reminiscent of when our children were young and a snow or rainy day came along.

As parents we often had to round up our kids and find fun and interesting things to do to fill those hours.

So now suddenly at this age we have become our own parent and we are the kids with nothing to do.

I guess we could bring out the arts and crafts boxes and cut snowflakes.

Paint T-shirts maybe?

After the pandemic I can’t even look at another jigsaw puzzle.

Cooking? Oh right, my cardiologist would be thrilled that I was in the kitchen finding new ways to fill my face.

Exercise? If I hated it when I was young why would I want to do that now?

I have friends who play pickleball and God bless them for it, but my feet start bitching the moment I step out of bed in the morning.

Of course there’s the tried and true older person fall back fun stuff like Bridge, Maj Jong, Canasta and anything that involves sitting at a table and intermittently reaching for the nearby bowl of M&Ms or nuts.

In a new world one would think there are tons of new options available for golden yearers. Is all we can hope for the same old same old and videos of us dancing with our grandchildren on Instagram Reels?

Despite the fact a majority of seniors avail themselves of the new technology playing scrabble online can’t fill a day.

I am fortunate in that I play Roblox, whatever that is, with my grandsons online. I have no idea what I’m doing but as long as it’s with my boys I’m happy.

But what about the rest of the hours in a day?

Can we still find ways to feel relevant and in control?

Time to shift gears to optimistic here.

I say yes.

I truly believe there are more opportunities now than ever before.

I have been able to do things and achieve goals now I couldn’t before because of my age. So from a certain perspective there is definitely an upside to this aging thing.

I needn’t list the enormous variety of options available to fill our days, but a new one is definitely leaf peeping and yes that’s a real thing.

I guess the list is endless actually, but it does take a certain amount of commitment.

It’s great to have a group of friends who will inspire and force you to make plans and join in the fun.

I don’t pretend any ideas are new or revolutionary and haven’t been used for ages. It does seem though that there should be some new ones out there and that’s just it, there doesn’t seem to be any.

The options for filling our days are pretty much set in stone and in this exciting and scary new world, one would like to think there are new places to visit and new adventures to be had.

Space travel which I believed would be an option by now is unavailable, so I don’t think I’ll be joining Flash Gordon on Mars anytime soon.

Like most of us I thought it would be different this whole aging thing, but life is pretty much as expected.

Youth, careers, kids, grandkids, and arthritis.

Nothing much new there.

So is life actually predestined? If we reach a certain age can we hope for nothing more than our parents or grandparents were able to experience? Costco, walks in the mall, various activities and of course constant doctor visits. Even if you’re well.

What did I expect? I thought new and exciting times would exist for us, but nope, pretty much the same.

We do live longer and feel better now than our parents, so being able to fill our days with fun things to do should be easier.

When I look at life it’s pretty obvious we can be as busy or as idle as we choose and it’s up to us to decide.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but when once our problem was how to find any free time now it’s about finding ways to stay busy. Kinda upside down so maybe that’s why I feel discombobulated. I imagine the important take away is it doesn’t matter what we choose to do with our time, as long as we enjoy what we’re doing. But that’s really what it’s all about at any age, isn’t it?

Crunchy Apple Pork Chops in Cream Sauce

6 pork chop tenderloins or chops with bone in can also be used, but cooking time will increase.

2 apples (your choice) peeled, cored and sliced

¼ cup apple cider vinegar

2 cups heavy cream

1 cup flour seasoned with salt and pepper

1 ½ cups panko crumbs

1 ½ cups dried apple chips ground up well

1 tbsp butter

1 tablespoon of oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Season pork slices with salt and pepper and set aside

Put apple chips in the food processer and ground up well, but not too fine. Combine with panko crumbs. 

Melt butter and oil in frying pan and dip pork into flour and pat off excess. Dip chops into beaten egg then into panko/apple mixture.

Add to frying pan and sear until golden brown. Remove from pan and place in oven at 350 degrees until internal temperature of 150 degrees is reached.

Add apples and cider to frying pan and sauté apples until fork tender and then add cream. Heat over low heat until cream reduces by one third. Taste sauce and add salt and pepper if necessary.

Add back pork into frying pan and cover with cream sauce and heat through two more minutes until all is combined and warm.

Serve over any pasta or rice or with a mashed potato.

How to Avoid Failure

Should We Ever Be Afraid to Fail?

I’ve often been asked how I’ve managed to leap into so many interesting adventures?

Of course crazy does come to mind and strangely enough there is also that archaic belief floating about that opines, “Jack of all Trades Master of None.” Perhaps when one’s lifespan was thirty years old that may have been the case, but I must disagree human beings are only capable of excelling in one profession, skill or area of their lives.

About to embark on that tenuous journey into the land of pitching a new book to publishers, I’ve been giving a great deal of thought to rejection and its impact on our lives and careers.

Always aware of my desire to become a writer I penned my first short story at around the age of eight. A science fiction tome about space travel, which makes sense since Flash Gordon was a particular passion. Many years later my first book was a science fiction-fantasy-comedy-murder mystery (is that even a thing?) that convinced all my friends I was indeed far crazier than they’d even imagined.

My sanity aside, the point is this, how can one be a writer without living, experiencing and failing?

Oh, of course the old adage write what you know is still very relevant, however this may work for some writers, but for many varied life experience contributes volumes of information to their skills.

I didn’t set out in life to be so ADD in my professional choices, so how did I end up going from journalist to comedy writer to stand-up comic to bakery owner to newspaper editor to cooking show host to radio talk show host to college professor, NBC’s Baking It cooking show judge and back to writer?

I can only sum it up in one word…risk. And how do I count these adventures as successes or failures?

Was I afraid to fail at any of these or other endeavors? Yes and No actually is all I can answer. 

Many expound the theory failure is not an option when speaking about how to achieve success, and mindset is indeed a critical component. Yet is it the only one that propels us forward?

I truly believe that failure is an option and it’s not to be feared, but embraced as a life lesson necessary for many to achieve success.

We learn far more from our failures than our successes. This is universally agreed upon and yet so many fear failure and employ it as a valid excuse for failing to try.

Perhaps it is the path I have chosen that leads me to such conclusions. Any career in the arts is fraught with rejection. 

What constitutes a magnificent painting, a funny joke, great writing, or an incredible opus?

Are there those who would balk at George Gershwin, stand aloof before a Picasso or sit dumbfounded and silent watching Robin Williams perform?

Of course there would be, which explains why so many great artists are maligned and ignored during their own lifetimes.

Taste is relative to life experience and since we all share different histories our penchant for art, music or literature will naturally vary.

However there are certain universal truths. What makes Picasso stand out from other artists who have been passed over despite obvious talents?

What makes a Scott Fitzgerald or Lady GaGa a star?

Man has sought the formula for success since art became a commodity to be bought and sold like pashminas in an Indian street market. 

How many sales constitute gifted? Did our ancestors drawing on cave walls consider themselves the Picassos of the prehistoric world?

Should art be measured by volume of sales or prices and be discounted if it boasts only ten fans? 

Doesn’t the mere appreciation of any creation by even one person signify its success as a vehicle to inspire?

Does an artist ever fail when the very action of realization is in itself success?

For then we must ask ourselves at what point does an artist achieve greatness? Is it when one critic gives thumbs up to a symphony? When a gallery displays a new sculpture or when a publisher buys a book?

Failure encompasses all areas of life so why do we fear it so much we fail to achieve what gifts we possess?

The stigma of failure is debilitating to so many yet the act of creation is joyous. There seems to be a paradox afoot.

I can’t be certain why some fall short while others with lesser talents succeed, no one can.

Is it persistence, luck, karma, talent, no one seems to know for sure although many will claim they have the absolute answer to that question.

I suggest that there is no failure and the act of doing is successful despite the outcome.

If a lesson was learned, or a feeling of achievement seeps inside one’s soul, or the sheer joy or accomplishment of a goal or dream, there can be no failure.

Many believe that the only failure lies in not trying at all and I must concur.

Success is no guarantee of happiness and yet if missing the mark brings us closer to achieving our goals, it remains a positive outcome.

I say try and try and try again until you have achieved what you seek to create and enjoy the moments spent in the effort.

Life speeds by and the only way to get where we want to go is to keep moving so jump on that train and ride it until the end. 

No one is ever a failure that has attempted to succeed and no one has the right to nullify anyone’s efforts, no matter the outcome. Doing something you love is a blessing and a joy. To avoid those moments in a lifetime because of a fear of being judged by others would be truly the greatest failure.

Easy Keto Style Chicken Magenta

Four chicken thighs 

4 Thick slices of Swiss Cheese

2 Cups of Heavy Whipping Cream

2 cups chopped mushrooms

1 egg with ¼ cup of water added

2 cups of Almond Flour

2 tablespoons oil

2 tablespoons butter

¼ teaspoon of nutmeg

Salt and pepper to taste

1 tsp chopped parsley for garnish is optional

Season the almond flour with salt and pepper. Pound thighs flatter then dip in almond flour, pat well to get excess off and dip in egg mixture then back in almond flour. Add butter and oil to frying pan and heat. Add chicken pieces and fry until cooked on both sides. Remove chicken and add mushrooms and sauté, then add cream and season with a little salt and pepper and nutmeg. Cook down cream until it thickens. Add chicken back in and cook until done in cream sauce. When the chicken is done add a slice of cheese to the top of each piece and place pan under the broiler until cheese is browning and bubbling.

Serve and enjoy.

From Clarabell to COVID-19. Have Baby Boomers Come Full Circle?

spaghettipie

 

 

From Clarabell to COVID-19.

Have Baby Boomers Come Full Circle?

As a child, Wednesday was my favorite day. Why? Well as any Baby Boomer knows that was “Anything Could Happen Day.”

This piece of information means little to anyone under seventy of course, but to my generation not privy to the wonders of Alexa and Instagram, “Anything Can Happen Day” meant mystery, excitement and something unique was about to enter our unsophisticated worlds.

For those of you who don’t remember and I’m sure you’re few, “Anything Can Happen Day” was the weekday on the Mickey Mouse Club when we could be surprised by a guest, adventure or anything out of the ordinary.

The other days we pretty much knew what to expect. Monday was “Fun With Music” Tuesday was the guest star, Thursday was “Circus” and Friday was “Talent Round Up.” We were also treated to serials like Spin and Marty, Corky and White Shadow, Annette, The Hardy Boys, all shows we anticipated and watched faithfully? Okay, why?

Was it merely because we secretly longed to be Mouseketeers or Meesketeers like Cubby and Karen? Were the Mooseketeers, Roy and Jimmy with his “mouseguitar” so appealing? Beats me, but I’d love to hear some thoughts and opinions about why we were so dedicated to those mouse ears.

As you probably guessed I have some theories or I wouldn’t have brought this up in the first place.

I think it was partly the thrill of belonging to something that was not only featured on that great new innovation that possessed us called television, but also that these kids were our age.

Our worlds back in the fifties were very small and protected. Most families had one car and we walked to school. Our friends were in our own neighborhoods and within walking distance, which is why we socialized with kids on our block.

Suddenly there was this new great invention that took us to worlds far away with people outside our sphere.

We became interested in their lives and adventures and felt a part of some strange new unique planet we could reach by simply turning a knob.

The Mickey Mouse ears were a symbol of something beyond ourselves and outside our comfort zones that made us feel energized and curious.

We were joiners back then, Soupy Sales had his Birdbath Club with its membership card and we could also buy and wear our own mouse ears.

We were cub, brownies, girl and boy scouts and this belonging seemed to come natural to us.

The delight in the assurance the world was far larger than our small corner made us hunger for more.

After we outgrew the Mouse, and I’m not certain we ever really did because Disney has remained a big part of all our lives, it was all about American Bandstand.

We rushed home from school to watch ABC’s daily dose of teen addiction as all the regulars danced their way through the show. There was a guest singing and chatting with Dick Clark or as I refer to him, the Dorian Gray of our generation. That man never aged and although he was a nice man I’m sure he had a picture in the attic somewhere that was growing old while he stayed young.

Just like the Mickey Mouse years we reveled in the feeling of being a part of the Bandstand phenomenon and bought magazines to keep up with the lives of regulars like Pat Molittieri, Justine Carrelli, Bob Clayton, Arlene Sullivan, Kenny Rossi and Carole Scaldeferri.

Wow! I’m freaking out right now that I remembered those names without having to look them up. Please don’t ask me what I had for lunch yesterday but fifty years ago, no problem. Actually the sixties are much clearer to me now than when I lived them.

But I digress.

What does it say about our generation that we were so willing to leap on the bandwagon and embrace Howdy Doody, Soupy, Micky and Bandstand?

Can we judge it as negative or was it truly one of the most positive things we ever encountered?

Okay, I’m going with positive here and not just because all my readers know how I feel about Black Tooth and White Fang.

Those early shows actually shaped our characters more than we knew and the lessons were subliminally woven through the fabric of our lives.

First, we became eager participants in society. Our experiences with these shows or the clubs they offered were positive reinforcement for the importance of being a part of something greater that existed outside oneself.

Second, it provided a better sense of the vastness of the universe. Our worlds were small and contained, but we were suddenly able to travel to distant lands and observe places that offered us new adventures in addition to reading. Sure, we had the cardboard spaceship of Flash Gordon, but no one was buying that whole flying-through-space-on-that-primitive- paper-cutout were they?

Third, it taught us that knowledge could be obtained anywhere. Outside of the schoolroom we continued to learn and grow as individuals.

And perhaps one of the most hidden and obscure subliminal messages came from Clarabell, Howdy’s favorite clown. No, I haven’t lost what’s left of my mind. Although he could only honk his horn to converse we realized that speech isn’t the only path to understanding and communication, and often we need to listen with our ears, instincts and at times our hearts.

We also discovered that “Anything Can Happen Day” is not only a metaphor for life because each day is unknown, but something we should embrace and if we’re open to the unexpected many amazing journeys await us.

There was nothing overt about these lessons and they seeped into our souls without our awareness they’d found a home. Yet they colored our lives, helped create the people we became and still today remain part of whom we are.

So by now you’re wondering how COVID-19 enters into this discussion. Well sadly it seems to have brought us full circle.

All the lessons of our childhoods that propelled us out into the world to travel, socialize and absorb are now stifled by this horrible invader that has us locked down. Once again we are watchers in front of the television and sadly at a time when most of us are free and able to move about in the world.

Okay, so it’s a flat screen nowadays and a great deal larger than the twelve-inch RCA black and white, but we’ve returned to living vicariously once again.

We must be content with travelogues instead of that trip to Tuscany we planned. We watch that chef prepare his special lobster bisque instead of visiting his restaurant in New York to taste it first hand.

We watch the Disney channel to keep up with our grandchildren’s favorite new shows, talk about coming full circle that damn mouse never left.

Sure, we’re back in front of the television again and of course there are far more options than the couple of channels we had as kids, but we’re prohibited from socializing, traveling or seeking those adventures we were programmed to undertake and embrace.

So life has changed and I know I’m not the only one anxious to get back out and live.

So please Clarabell, honk your horn for a cure for COVID so we can hear, see, love, live and engage without the need for Netflix.

Spaghetti Pie

1 generous serving of spaghetti cooked

2 eggs

1 cup of grated Parmesan cheese

1 cup of spaghetti sauce

6 Meatballs broken up

1 cup of shredded mozzarella cheese

1-8 ounce package of cream cheese

1 tablespoon of chives dried or fresh

1 tablespoon of olive oil

Salt and pepper

Place your cooked spaghetti in a bowl and add Parmesan cheese and 2 eggs and mix together well. Spray a 10-inch pie pan and place spaghetti inside pushing it up the sides to form a piecrust.

Place in a 350 degree oven and cook for 10 minutes until partially set. Set aside

Mix together your cream cheese and chives.

Scatter meatballs in a layer over spaghetti crust. Cover with a layer of sauce. Dollop the cream cheese on top and sprinkle some mozzarella cheese on top.

Roll out piecrust to fit over top of pie pan with enough to tuck edge of crust under rim.

Cut in pie slices and serve hot. Enjoy.