Tag: Orwell

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.

Why We Refuse to See The Unseen

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Why We Refuse to See The Unseen

I’ve never seen a UFO. I thought I heard one outside my window one night, but of course that’s pure conjecture. So no, I have no evidence they either exist or don’t exist. The truth is UFOs have given me a rather interesting perspective on life that I’ve embraced and believe has been greatly responsible for my points of view. Simply, I understand that it’s not so much what we see in life that colors our reality so much as what we won’t see.

The empty space that exists between what is seen and what is not can answer questions, inject wisdom and provide a vital perspective to the answers we seek.

How can a void be so filled with information you ask? Because it’s sometimes the lack of information that is most clear.

Although a simple analogy, most people will tell you that at stressful times like funerals or serious moments in life, human nature may not notice so much who is there as whom is missing. I believe we’ve all felt this during our lives and heard others speak it as well.

So and so wasn’t at the funeral did you notice?

It’s not about being petty, it’s actually about new information that absence or empty space affords us.

We expect the people who show up, to well show up, so there is no surprise when they do. However when one doesn’t, that is new information. If we apply this simple logic to most things in life it becomes apparent. There may be much to see in the abyss.

As a reporter I often made it a habit to look for the non-existence in the room before what was before my eyes. Who might be absent from a crucial meeting? Who was seated far away from a former colleague or someone’s silence in lieu of speaking? I often learned a great deal from observing what wasn’t there.

I’ve come to the conclusion it’s what we refuse to observe that most effects our lives. The obvious cannot surprise or catch us off guard. The silent however is capable of the strangest and most deadly consequences.

Have we all been guilty at times of closing our eyes to what is unseen or our ears to the unspoken?

To be Cleopatra, Queen of Denial instead of facing the silence that literally screamed at us to notice while we covered or averted our eyes.

Are there UFOs, does China have ten more viruses at hand even more deadly and dangerous than COVID19, is Iran on the verge of nuclear power, has the day for robots to take our place already come and we refuse to see? No, I’m not claiming there are UFOs, they are merely a good example of the schism between those who have witnessed them and those who say absolutely not. Perhaps the expression, “I couldn’t believe my own eyes,” may be relevant.

The scariest part of recent events is that in our relationship with China we avoided the space that held the truth. What else are we refusing to see that may come in the night and catch us off guard? When did we ignore the potential of an oppressive regime that had committed atrocities against its own people? The warnings of so many experts, or were we simply no more than a foolish woman who is blinded by a man’s good looks and wealth and ignores his five previous marriages?

These are global examples, but the truth is there is an unseen every day in our lives.

Google is now running the world in the void between sight lines. They are far more dangerous than Big Brother because even Orwell who foresaw the power didn’t see its true extent.

Computers have relegated every area of our lives into a giant open book of data they now possess and use to control us. How we buy, shop, travel, live, eat, work and even love. Yet we shake it off and say “no big deal.”

Artificial intelligence is already baked into the cake we consume each day and yet we don’t see.

Will we awaken one morning as we did to a pandemic and find we have been taken over by robots? Or a terrorist nation with a bomb they’ve handed to one of their proxies to explode in Times Square, or perhaps even aliens among us unseen and close to being unmasked? Is the element of surprise not really a surprise at all?

What might next catch us off guard because we’ve refused to notice, to read between the lines, to avoid those parts of reality we’d rather not observe?

Hamlet said, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Shakespeare acknowledged the determination of human beings to refuse to test reality, to look away from the unseen even when it stares us in the face.

“There is no there there” is probably the most misleading statement in human existence, for if we look into the void we will see there is always a there there. What we won’t see will always ultimately be revealed, so the question we must ask is; will we be prepared when it is?