The magical power of books...

I have seen this little piece of writing everywhere lately. It reminded me of how my husband got my attention and won me over years ago. He was a handsome stranger who placed In the Inmost Hour of the Soul by Marina Tsvetaeva in my hands then walked away.  It was 1999. That book started something that only a book could start, it took over a decade to unfold. If you want to make a lasting impression, definitely give someone a good book.




















It is important to me that August know what a typewriter is and how it works. She plays with a rotary phone I have and counts as she dials. The smooth, swoosh noise it makes is a comforting one. I still remember the sound my grandmother's number made when dialed, my best friend's, my own home number. I have two Brownie cameras, a Polaroid Land Camera and a few Holgas, I'd love for August to learn to use them all.

The other day, I brought out one of my typewriters to work on a project. August came along, curious and enthusiastic. She gently shoved me aside and started hitting the keys before I had a chance to insert paper. I showed her how it worked and we ended up working on the project together. She was excited about the letters and called out each letter as she'd hit the key. I kept telling her to hit them harder and she finally got the hang of it, laughing when she'd miss them.

Today August picked up my phone, found the camera icon, clicked on it and aimed it at her Aunt Cecilia and said,"Ceeeecil! Then clicked and took a photo." I'd show you that photo but Aunt Cecilia didn't find it flattering. I am constantly amazed at what August learns from just watching me and people in the world around her. At her young age, she has no problem using any modern device. She learned how to use the DVD player by 18 months old, the remote control as well. She was at our laptops well before a year old. This is why I refuse to text. I don't want her to pick up texting from me, it can be a rude and dangerous habit.

I'm not raising a "Luddite", but  I want August to learn to use all those wonderful and noisy mechanical devices, the wind-ups and crank-ups. It's important. We no longer have the option to opt-out of technology.  Maybe my rebellion is in not completely letting go of the old, passing on the swooshes and the clickety-clacks.



Wipe Out (1000th blog post)

Parked at a tienda in a strip mall on a busy corner, from the radio I heard a voice that called himself Cousin Brucie. The show mimicked the old radio call-in shows from another era.  What crossed my mind was the fact it was 2014, Wolfman Jack and Paul Kallinger are no longer on this earth.  I looked around at the strip mall, located in a part of the city that was the outskirts of a town only twenty years ago. Only twenty years ago... Twenty years is a long time ago and it did mostly creep along.

A caller asked Cousin Brucie to play Wipe Out by the Surfaris. In my head flashed my Surfaris record that I bought several years ago. I increased the volume because it would be the first time August heard Wipe Out.  It's a tired song, I thought. It is still full of an optimism and energy from another time yet a very tired song. As it played I looked around. You couldn't be further from the beach, California, surfers or 1963.  From the window I watched young men walking in and out of the store, two cop cars parked over in the next lot and young girls [dressed to send their fathers to an early grave] sauntered by. I was too present to time travel. The song fit the scene. It had traveled forward to 2014 and I witnessed it's short visit.