Posted tagged ‘Throwback Thursday’

Throwback Thursday – The Negotiator

June 13, 2019

This is a post from 10 years ago and includes one of my favorite stories about my oldest grandson, Reed.

bradley-stI grew up in the middle-class suburban town of East Haven, Connecticut. The first home I remember was an apartment in a converted Army barracks but when I was in third grade, we moved to a small ranch style house in East Haven where my father lived until he went into assisted living eight years ago. We would probably have been classified as a lower middle class family but I don’t remember lacking for anything, at least until high school, and even then the the things I wanted were more wishes than needs.  One was clothes. Oh, I had enough clothes but they all came from Anderson-Little. Anderson-Little was a New England factory direct retailer of men’s clothing and while their products were reasonably priced and decently made, they definitely weren’t cool (neither was I but that’s another story for another post). The cool guys bought their clothes at the small men’s shops around Yale University where the price of a single sweater could send my father into who-would-pay-that much-for-a-sweater paroxysms. (more…)

Throwback Thursday – Unselfies

March 17, 2016

Walking in the park this morning, I came across three people (adults, yes) taking selfies of themselves in front of the lake.  When we traveled to Italy a while back, in Pisa people were taking selfies of in front of the tower.  All this focus on pictures of oneself seems to scream,” I am the center of the universe.”   But maybe that’s just my old-fashioned Inner Curmudgeon talking.  At any rate, here’s a repost of an alternative to selfies from 2014.

selfiesEvery time I see people taking selfies (shiver … the term itself makes me throw up in my mouth), I wonder.  Are we in the midst of the most narcissistic period in human history?   Or does our assortment of mobile devices simply give everyman a means to manifest narcissism in more obvious ways?  Saturday night before the Diana Krall concert, people were taking selfies all over the Segerstrom Hall.  You’d expect that at a Bieber concert, but this was a mostly middle-aged and up jazz crowd.  And really, does anyone like the way they … and their spouse … partner … girlfriend … British Prime Minister (I’m talkin’ to you, president Obama) … look in a selfie, face distorted from the parallax of the camera lens?  Now, you might ask, haven’t you ever taken a selfie, Older Eyes?  Yes, I have:

20131031_223207-1 (more…)

Throwback Thursday – Bright Lights

January 7, 2016

Here it is, the first Thursday of (gasp) 2016.  That makes my birth year, 1944, sound like is was very long ago.  Yes, I know.  It was. So for the first Throwback Thursday of the year, I’m reposting an anecdote that happened on the day of my birth.

mom letterOne of the treasures I saved from my father’s house when he moved to assisted living is a letter my Mom wrote from Casper, WY, where my father was stationed at the Army Air Corps Heavy Bomber Training Unit.  The letter begins, Dear Mother and Dad, This is an extra special important letter so I’ll send it to the two of you  (You’d best sit down, Mom).  It continues, You two have been married too long to be just Mom and Dad.  Don’t you think it’s time you were Grandma and Grampa?  My Mom was telling her parents that she was four and a half months pregnant with me.  Of course, they didn’t know I was me yet, so they’d nicknamed me Stinky, Jr.  Thank goodness that it was Buddy that eventually stuck as my nickname.  The letter says, I hope we do have a boy … with blue eyes and a dimple in its chin … not the other end like me.  Hmm.  I have brown eyes, by the way.   In the letter, my Mom went on to ask if it was OK for her to come home and live with her Mom and Dad while my Dad was shipped overseas to Italy to fight the war.   I’ll have a Pullman all the way home, she said … for free, too.  The Army was paying.  Trains playedbud and dad a big part in my Mom’s travels when she and Dad were first married.   There was even a running family joke that my real Dad was a porter.  All you have to do is see a picture of my Dad and I together and you’ll know the truth. (more…)