Going Down a Rabbit Hole

A memory marker is something that reminds me of a story. Memories that may be way in the back of my brain that I’ve not though about in years come flooding back when one of my senses gets hit with something that reminds me of that past event or story.

It happened this morning. I was scrolling through Facebook when I saw a picture of Gumby. Gumby is a stop-motion animated clay character. When I was a kid, Gumby and his side kick, Pokey, came on every weekend on tv. Seeing that picture this morning was a memory marker that took me down a rabbit hole – come go with me.

When I saw Gumby, I thought of a particular episode when Gumby asks his mother if he can have some crackers and milk. That reminder took me to my father: he loved Premium saltine crackers with hard cheese or sometimes just a little butter. When I was a kid there were times my father and I would sit and have a “coffee break” together. Daddy would pull out the Premium saltines and some cheese or butter. He would pour himself a cup of coffee (from the percolator not a coffee maker), I would get a glass of chocolate milk, and we would sit and have a “coffee break” together.

That memory lead me to the black and white sandwich cookies he would buy. They were always in the house. He would get a couple, put them in his pocket, and we would walk around the yard a bit before sitting to have a picnic with those cookies. He continued that tradition with his grandchildren; my kids and I named those cookies “Grandpa cookies.”

That memory directed me to my new granddaughter, Jubilee. When little Jubilee says, “Grandmommie, tell me a story,” I’ll be sure to have a cookie in my pocket.

Goose & Gander

My dad used to have a phrase – actually he had a lot of phrases – but one in particular that came to mind today was, “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.” My mother altered the phrase to fit her perspective: “What’s good for the goose is not necessarily good for the gander.” Depending on the situation, I can agree with both of those statements.

Yesterday I went ‘gandering’ (pun intended) through a thrift store and found a couple of items that I could use. Then I scanned through the book section of the thrift store and spotted a 1948 copy of Grandfather Tales by Richard Chase. I was so excited I scooped up that book and paid the $2.00 cost. Richard Chase did research in Appalachia and wrote down the old folktales and legends that were told to him by the people of the mountains, quite a gold mine for this storyteller and puppeteer. 

One might say of the person who donated the book, “they didn’t know what they had,” but I rather think,  “What is no longer good for the goose gets passed along to the gander.”

On This Day: 18 Years Ago

I remember where I was 18 years ago today. I was working in a central secretarial area for a some executive suites. I answered phones, typed, and did other office type jobs for the businesses that rented space there. On the morning of 9/11 one of the clients who rented an office in the building came in the front door and said, “A plane just ran into one of the twin towers. I heard it on the radio”. I honestly thought it was someone with a single engine plane who miscalculated.

“That’s terrible!” I said, “Are they ok”? The woman who delivered the news looked at me and realized I did not understand the magnitude of the situation. “It was a jet,” she said.

I was stunned. There was a second girl who worked the desk with me and as more and more people came in with updates I turned to her and said, “I have a portable black and white TV at home. Do you want me to go get it?” “Yes.” she said.

About twenty minutes later we were watching it all on an 11” black and white tv.

Another of the suite renters came in as we talked about the people jumping from the tower. “That’s impossible,” he announced. “I was just there and there is absolutely no way anyone could jump from those towers. Impossible, absolutely impossible!! The media is just pumping this up.” The rest of us in the office were all silent as he explained to us why he had knowledge of this.

The towers went down. The pentagon was hit. People were… gone.

Silence.

Where were you on this day 18 years ago?

Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit

I remember my mother saying “Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,” on the first day of each month for good luck. I have friends on facebook who post rabbits on the first of the month in recognition of the phrase; ok, I might do that too. I’ve always known repeating rabbit three times was for good luck, but I don’t understand why it is supposed to be lucky. Carrying a rabbit's foot is supposed to be good luck, but it’s not so lucky for the rabbit. There is a rabbit in the Chinese horoscope; I don’t know much about that either. There are rabbits in my back yard and they eat my vegetables, so that’s not lucky for me, but the rabbits enjoy it.

Wikipedia, the mecca of all knowledge, says the phrase originated in Great Britain and North America. Was that simultaneously? Did a person on each continent have the same revelation at the same time and announce, “We must say, ‘Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit!’ on the first day of each month or we shall not have good luck!”

I read that President Roosevelt said it on the first day of the month. Was it lucky for him? I have no idea. The Energizer Bunny just keeps going and going… why is it pink?

In the end, sometimes we say or do things because of tradition, a touch of superstition, an element of hope, or maybe just for fun. I say rabbit, rabbit, rabbit because of all of those things — it certainly isn’t going to hurt and what if it does bring good luck?

So, on this first day of May, join me in saying, “Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit,” and have a very Hoppy Month of May!

Irish Heritage

This past weekend we celebrated St. Patrick’s Day. I sure hope it was a good day for you. I wore green, did you?

A fair percentage of my heritage is Irish, and I incorporate that heritage into my storytelling. As with many of us, I was not raised specifically in the heritage of my ancestors, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t come from history. It is up to me to learn about those who came before me. I am a storyteller; that is my profession, and as such, I am intrigued by the stories that were told in the countries of my ancestors. I’ve learned a lot of Celtic stories and I include them in my performances. I do not try to speak with the accents of the native lands and I am sure I would not give them justice. I speak with my own tongue, the one that belongs to me. However, passing on the ancient stories of my ancestral lands is important to me. It helps me to know myself and understand the traits I have.

I have a dream to one day go to Ireland. Oh my, I want to see that land with my own eyes. For now, I have the stories; I read them, remember them and carry them in the pocket of my mind… and I desire to share them.

What stories do you have in your mind's pocket? Share them with someone.