I was born in Jersey and lived there until I was 15. I don’t look like Carmela Soprano or a blinged out housewife, no leopard print leggings or teased shellacked hair … but I did retain a bit of New Jersey twang in my speech (think dawg and cawfee) and I’m most definitely a fast talker.
Jersey people have places to go and people to dump in the Meadowlands swamp, we don’t like wasting time with slow conversation .
First… read a book. The old fashioned bound paper variety. As much as I love my tech, I despise Kindles and their ilk. I’m a tactile reader and love nothing more than opening a newly printed book.
Second… I pay my bills by check, through the mail. No automatic withdrawals linked to my bank account, no monthly debits on my card. We’ve been hacked too many times for me to voluntarily give my info to every company we pay for services. It may be slower, but it also helps the struggling USPS… because when that goes under we’re all in trouble
The Good Humor truck song. Music to the ears of every hungry child in the 60’s and 70’s.
I grew up in suburban New Jersey and every summer we had a special bowl filled with change by the back door. When you heard the first far away strains of that distinctive little ditty? You grabbed a handful and ran outside.
My preferred treat?
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The toasted almond bar.
To this day, I crave them… which is a tragedy.
.
.
Sometimes life just isn’t fair. No more toasted almond goodness. Though I discovered I could buy this on eBay….
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But if my favorite treat isn’t available, why bother?
How about you…
What sound from your childhood don’t you hear anymore?
If you’re a long time reader you know my husband and I met and married in six days. He was on leave from the Marine Corps and came home to be with his family at Christmas. It was a hard time for him as the Beirut bombing was a few months before and he was deployed to the area at the time. On that horrible day he volunteered to help with the rescue efforts after a 12 hour night shift and no sleep. He took 5 bodies out of that building… some whole, some in pieces.
I’m sure all he wanted at that point was rest and relaxation. What he got was a wife.
We met. We fell in love. We got married six days later. And to be honest we would have done it sooner but we had to wait 2 days for the license.
Everyone thought we were crazy.
Some thought I was pregnant… which was even crazier.
But 39 years later here we are.
Our wedding took place at a Justice of the Peace office during a raging N’Or East blizzard. We were staying with his mother on the Island at the time and had to take a boat to the mainland in the storm. I wore a pink cashmere sweater and dove grey slacks with high heeled boots. There was no dress, no cake, no reception, no gifts. We had 3 witnesses. My mother, his mother and his step father. There was a champagne brunch at a lovely waterfront restaurant… period. We had to leave the next day and drive to North Carolina so he could report back to base.
I was never one of those young girls who dreamt of big fancy weddings. I’ve been to many of them that cost more than our first home, and you know what? Every single one of those couples is divorced. For me, the ceremony isn’t the important part. It’s the love and commitment that mean something.
We may not have an engraved sterling silver turkey baster or a drunken video of Uncle Ted giving a toast….. but we’re still in love and still happily married almost four decades later.
I’m an avid reader and start to twitch if my pile of unread material drops below a dozen.
I order so many books from Amazon I may be personally responsible for Jeff Bezos’s new yacht.
Our little local library can’t keep up with me and trying to buy books at thrift stores has me walking down the aisles shaking my head, ticking off titles and mumbling read it, read it, read it…..
River's world..... 