Author: Lauren Mirs
Photo: State Fairgrounds, DuQuoin, IL
Photo: bison at Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area, TN
Message in a Bottle
My great-grandma owned a typewriter, and when my family would visit relatives in Florida over Christmas vacation, typing on it was entertainment for me. On one visit, I typed an entire copy of Yoko Ono’s book Grapefruit. As kids, my brother and I had to write to a far-away relative every Sunday as one of our chores. At the time, it felt like an actual chore, but now, it’s hilarious to look through them and see what we wrote. I got a card back from my great-grandma once, thanking me for a drawing I had sent, and she added, “I don’t know if you are going to be a writer, an artist, or both.” God, I wish I had gripped those words like a life raft in fifteen-foot waves. If you receive any encouragement toward your goals, don’t forget about it like I did. Bottle it and let it buoy you in pessimistic, confusing, or disappointing times.
Photo: Platte River, as seen from Fort Kearny Recreation Area Hike-Bike Trail, NE
The Power of Schmaltz
A couple years ago, I started visiting a lot of antique stores. Although I do like old objects- each item with its own history, handmade objects crafted with incredible attention to detail, made back when things were made to last- I figured out that what I liked most about antique stores was the music they played. It seemed fitting to hear Jo Stafford singing “I’ll Be Seeing You” or “You Belong to Me” while surrounded by Depression glassware, toys made of tin, and heavy wooden trunks. Frank Sinatra, Patsy Cline, “Moon River,” Ray Charles, Glenn Miller, “In the Good Old Summertime,” Nat King Cole, “Bill Bailey Won’t You Please Come Home,” Elvis, “Love Potion Number 9,” and the teen dance music of the 50s and 60s enchanted me. Although a lot of the lyrics and subject matter feel schmaltzy and dated, there is something charming about those Golden Age of Radio songs and jukebox classics. I guess it’s just nostalgia. But I shouldn’t underestimate the power of schmaltz- after all, Wilbert Harrison singing “Kansas City” always made me want to hop in the car and take a road trip, and look at me now.
Photo: carnation
