 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|||||||
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
 |
|
||
 |
|
|||||||
Treasure Hunting In the not-so-distant past, when people were asked what possessions they would save from their burning houses, their answers — after they assured the questioner that they would save family members and pets before they touched any "things" — were almost always, "photographs." The wedding albums, the boxes of unsorted snapshots, the vacation videos, the family scrapbooks that date back to their grandparents' day … whatever family memorabilia with which one has been entrusted is what one feels the need to preserve. Technology has marched forward dragging us all with it. Now, most people could grab their phones and their flashdrives, knowing that all the important "stuff" is inside. Or perhaps, the true modernista can walk away from all artifacts because the really important documents and memories are stored in any one of the "clouds" over our heads. This gives a whole new meaning to a fellow walking around with his head in a cloud. Today, instead of being an inveterate daydreamer, that cloud-peeper is probably working — flipping through his tax records, sorting through his work files, organizing his photos and music. This brings me to my own cloudy-headed present. Midweek, I got a facebook message that I had been "tagged" in a photo. Luckily, I am old enough not to worry about the presence of cellphone cameras clicking away in my direction at college parties. In the early 70s, few of us had the foresight to bring a camera to an event. "Taking pictures" involved buying film, loading it in, snapping away with a flash, paying someone to develop that film, remembering to pick up the prints at the drugstore and then saving, storing and retrieving snapshots from the shoebox where they inevitably ended up. So when I saw that an old college friend had tagged me, I didn't hesitate to click. Much to my surprise and delight, I found this.
It is 1971 and I am standing in the back row wearing what we referred to in our apartment as the tablecloth dress which I had borrowed from my roommate, Vivi. The group in the photo is the Bored of Directors, a comedy improv group, and here I am a college sophomore and proud member. Fred, standing tallest, was our leader and founder and he had decided we should get some publicity photos made in case we wanted to book some gigs further afield than our own college campus. He asked Tim Blackmore, another theater major who was already an experienced photographer, who was actually doing many department production photos, to set up the shoot. This was our edgier pose for which we traveled to a motorcycle dealership.
Turns out, Tim, with whom I had lost touch, is in the process of posting his U of I archive on facebook (thank you, Tim) and another mutual facebook friend tagged me (thank you, Judd). I responded with joy, friended Tim and have, consequently, spent much time the past few days online, looking at old photos of college days and remembering and naming old friends and acquaintances, commenting back and forth with people to whom I haven't really spoken in well over 30 years. And because I am still a hands-on tactile sort who likes the idea of the cloud but likes "stuff" more, I made a trip to the drugstore this weekend where I picked up prints of the uploaded photos so I could hang them on my office wall.
It struck me after I fetched the actual photos, bought some simple frames at a craft store and then set the pictures around my office deciding where exactly to put them, that I had now plucked these images from their clouds and made them into artifacts — the kinds of objects I would grab — after family and pets — to save from a fire. I know, I know — they're saved digitally — but for heaven's sake, there's a fire and I'm not thinking clearly! These types of photographs are also the kinds of artifacts that I — and my gal, Jane Wheel — often rescue from a house sale or flea market. We look for these group shots — the team posing with the trophy, the cast picture, the office picnic, the family reunion. I bring these strangers home and stare at them, wondering about the relationships in the group, who among the gang has remained friends, who kept secrets, who is happy, satisfied and successful, who is lost, who disappeared. Where are they and what are they all doing right now? There are two people in these photographs whom I no longer know, who I hope are out there somewhere, happy, satisfied and successful. A few others I have followed through mutual acquaintances — or facebook — to remain sort-of in touch. And there are others who remain among my closest friends. I have spent the weekend with my head in the clouds, reminiscing and replaying some of our early happy days. And mourning the loss of Neil, with whom I wish I had kept in better touch. That is, after all, what these artifacts, these things do. Remind, nudge, chide, amuse, warm us. It is why I have often adopted the photos of strangers, studying them for the stories they tell and why, this weekend, I did my treasure hunting in my own back yard.
Interview with Sharon Sharon made a guest appearance at the Kankakee Farmers’ Market June 11, signing copies of Backstage Stuff and distributing recipes of “Nellie’s EZ Way Inn Vegetable Soup” to Market shoppers. Market Manager Bill Yohnka presented her with a key to the Farmers’ Market and just generally made a big fuss over one of their own. Her gifts included a bouquet of rhubarb, a Jane Wheel/no make that a Jane Wedge of cheese – many fresh veggies, pickled beets, flowers, and this beautiful plaque pictured belowwith an antique key to an unknown Kankakee barn donated by a local locksmith – plus many other treats and surprises. It was terrific. Bill Yohnka, pictured holding the mic, declared June 11, Bittersleuth Day at the market when he presented the rhubarb! And in anticipation of the big day, Sharon was intereviewed on local radio. Click here and here to listen to the interview in two parts, and click on each photo below to see a larger image. And click here for your own copy of Nellie's EZ Way Inn Vegetable soup! 
This is a Hermes 3000 portable typewriter – the iPad of the fifties and sixties. You know how some lust after a Porsche? Or a big fancy house? Or, for that matter, a Hermes scarf? Well I have wanted a Hermes 3000 portable typewriter ever since I saw a picture several years ago. Oh yes, I want a Hermes Rocket model and a Baby Rocket, too – those are other sleek models from the Paillard Company – but a 3000 was the place I wanted to start. You can read more about these machines here – http://mytypewriter.com/hermes3000of1958.aspx
So this beauty is now mine. It is in impeccable condition and it was sitting on the shelf at my new favorite thrift store – Lake Forest Thrift Store in Lake Forest, Illinois. I attended the grand opening on Saturday and came home with this sleek machine, the current object of my affection. Why a vintage typewriter, since I am now quite comfortably typing away on my laptop and will continue to write my books on my trusty MacBook? Is it the satisfying sound of the keys striking, the freedom of true wireless technology, the romance of using a machine whose relatives were used by Hemingway and Kerouac? Or is it because actual writing is so different from the idea of being a writer? I write. It’s my job and my passion and I know – no matter how much I complain about how little my writing pays or the lack of respect for my job – “Gee, must be swell to sit around all day in your pajamas and write!” (And let’s get this straight right now, I only stay in my pajamas half the day. I am almost always dressed by dinner) I will continue to write because it’s what I do and I am damn lucky to be able to do it.
That said, I also love the idea of being a writer. Always have. While some played with dolls, I instead played office in the back room of the EZ Way Inn, punching numbers into my dad’s Victor adding machine – probably planting the seeds of one of my later loves as my fingers struck those gorgeous bakelite keys. I loved sharpening yellow pencils and sorting and arranging the minutia of a desk top—the real wooden scarred and warm oak desk top, not the virtual one on which I file my chapters of Jane Wheel’s adventures. Which is probably why I have this shrine dedicated to vintage office supplies hung above my current desk. Getting to do and be what I always wanted to do and be is a privilege. Looking at the Hermes 3000 makes me remember that. And makes me so grateful.
It’s rummage sale season too! Another reason to be grateful. Despite the rainiest, gloomiest spring ever, hope springs eternal for treasure hunters. Even those who are waiting in line in the rain – do you think this shopper will be looking for a used umbrella? Please check the calendar page. I will be at Printer’s Row in Chicago the first weekend in June although I don’t have the exact time yet. The second weekend in June? Big doings. On Friday afternoon, June 10, I’m stopping in at the Kankakee History Museum to sign some copies of my books in the gift shop. I am thrilled that they are going to carry all of the Jane Wheel titles! Then I proceed down to The Heartland in Gilman Illinois, where I will be the weekend guest speaker at the Heartland Spa. It is an incredible place – filled with good vibes and a talented staff and I am a lucky writer since I get to go down and talk about my books and the creative process and get a massage! On Saturday morning, June, 11, I will leave the Heartland Bliss behind for just an hour or so while I drive into Kankakee and visit the Farmer’s Market where I will be signing books in the Letterman-gifted Gazebo (see several of my books!) and handing out recipes for Nellie’s EZ Way Inn vegetable soup. There’s a rumor that a carrot will be named after Jane Wheel, too. Let’s face it, Hermes 3000 or no Hermes 3000, when a vegetable is named after you at your hometown farmer’s market? You have arrived. Happy Spring – if you have that season where you live. Around here, we, apparently, do not.
|
