When my sisters and I were kids, the Cold War was still chilling the spines of two cranky paranoid continents to pretty much the polar-offset temperature of today’s heated heights regarding relations between, say, anywhere in the middle east and the US. So we regularly crouched under our little school desks in Cold War air-raid drill positions that would’ve made us a whole new and much more crouch-y Herculaneum if Da Bomb had ever actually been dropped on our noggins. The fact that my early heartthrob Morgan M [name redacted to protect his dignity, if any] had vomited all over our shared desk when the Hong Kong flu swept through our school might’ve made my particular spot-de-crouch that much more stalactite-covered and sculptural, had I dared to look upward, but really, there was no greater sense of danger in those classrooms than the one that some teacher might decide my huddling wasn’t taken seriously enough, so crouch I did.
I also, along with my sisters, considered playing cowboys-and-Indians pretty generally passe, so 1950s, don’t you know, and eschewed that popular pastime for the much better use of our coolness in playing Secret Agents. That we never actually spied on anything more exotic than our own basement Rec Room or went on any mission more hair-raising than to demand a pitcher of green Kool-Aid from Mom to take out to the backyard where we would guzzle it until we were bursting and then run around in sugar-high mania having our Spy-vs-Spy battles (only slightly less ludicrous than those in Mad Magazine) was irrelevant; being Secret Agents was cool, was jazzy, was scintillating and ever so grown up. Naturally, we didn’t have the remotest idea what a spy was or what secret agents of any sort did for a living/dying.
What we did have was a whole lot of green-sugar-water-fueled shrimpy persons’ fun. And then, on a really good day, we’d come inside and have nuclear-orange macaroni and cheese for dinner and some outstanding stories from Dr Seuss or perhaps the infinite child-rearing wisdom of Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle to top it all off. We were surrounded by the unspeakable dangers not only of the Cold War but of playground equipment made of heavy steel pipes and undergirded by solid concrete; by houses full of asbestos insulation and lead paint, foods crammed with deadly cyclamates and Red Dye No. 2; and of freely roaming streets full of unlocked houses with total strangers living in them and packs of mainly-unsupervised neighborhood kids playing Kick the Can on the same roads where cars full of seatbelt-repellant maniacs tore around smoking unfiltered cigarettes and spewing plumes of black exhaust every which way.
In my current glorious old age, I am quite delighted that I never had to be rescued from the depredations of cigarettes on either lungs or bank account, that I have a car with seatbelts and airbags and GPS (not a chance in the universe that I’d find my way around the old neighborhood without that), and that I have apparently lived to this advanced vintage with my teeth and internal organs basically intact and not even artificially dyed red. I’m pretty darn delighted to be, let alone to be healthy, well off, surrounded by wonderful people, and even able to remember some of those youthful dangers. But I’m still amazed by the will of modern, educated people to believe in all sorts of dangerous fictions. (I will leave my political commentary at that for today!)
Can’t say whether my love of more benign–designed for entertainment– forms of fiction, fantasy and mystery stemmed from that wilderness of seen and unseen ‘hazards’ menacing my youth, but all of that inherent excitement surely must have had some influence, on the whole. So I thank my parents for not over-protecting me from woodland fort-building and steel-wheel roller skating and river inner-tubing and from meeting the neighbors and all of that reckless craziness. And I thank my lucky stars and guardian angels and many random strangers that I have come through all of it so remarkably well that I look forward quite enthusiastically to the second of my half-centuries from here. No matter how completely that entire range of years is wrapped in mystery at this point.
So for my self-gifting and self-congratulating (I’m very good at both, as you know) on this my 51st birthday, I’m posting a couple of self-indulgent (also a talent of mine) fond and foolish reminiscences and a couple of my mystery story drawings. And wishing all of YOU a very happy day and a marvelous, surprisingly excellent year to follow: I’ll share my day with you if you promise to make it a grand year too, as best you can!
No doubt the clues are all there, but there's something to be said for just continuing to go along on the adventure and seeing what happens . . .
Art-Colored Glasses 
What a lovely post Kathryn. I would like to wish you a very Happy Birthday and I hope that you do have a marvelous surprisingly excellent year to follow and thanks for wishing one to all of us.
The mystery element in this post for me is wondering whatever became of Morgan M?
Thank you, my dear, for the sweet wishes, and I do expect you to come along for the ride as the year progresses!
Would that I knew the fate of that childhood dreamboat Morgan. Perhaps someday, somewhere I will learn what became of that young prince . . . at least I know he *did* recover from that hideous influenza! 🙂
Happy Berfday!! Darling Girl. How On earth did you survive such an action packed dangerous childhood full of green and orange food with all your teeth!? Wandering about streets where there were strangers behind their unlocked doors!! ha ha ha awesome.. ( I saved your post for beer o’clock today i love to just sit with your writing and really read!).. love love c..
The only thing missing from my childhood was the knowledge of beer o’clock. How could I have known?? Thank you for the greetings, almost-twin!! It was a very good day and the start of what looks to be a grand week. 🙂
xo!
K
Happy Birthday Kathryn! It sounds like you had a very action-packed childhood! The one that fond memories are made and your imagination is able to run wild!
Fortunately for me, my childhood was so good I’ve opted to extend it right through to the end. Thank you for the birthday greeting, Belle!
Well, Happy Birthday, Ms. Kathryn! Cent’ anni!
Oh, how well I remember the “duck and cover” drills, as well as the “sugar water”! Mac & cheese, however, was a rarity, be it “nuclear orange” or just yellow. Now, don’t you go feeling bad for us and let it ruin your birthday. We had more than enough pasta to make up for it. Really. We’re OK!
Again, dear Lady, Happy Birthday!
Mille grazie! I’m enjoying the Birthday week so far! I would call Pasta in Bianco a dreamy substitute for boxed mac & cheese any old day, but coming from Norsk stock I didn’t get introduced to such a thing earlier 🙂 .
I am so glad that you survived that very dangerous childhood in order to celebrate a great half century and 365 – I am not too many years behind you, my friend, so I remember hunkering down under desks for the drills – I started school at 4 years of age, so I remember being confused about why I was hiding under my desk and I remember being frightened.
We were déclassé in our little corner of the world – we enjoyed hide and seek and weren’t afraid to admit it and use an entire city block for our adventure. When we tired of that we went on to playing “Statue,” our strange version of tag. Our sugar energy consisted of copious amounts of Pixie Sticks, Bazooka bubble gum culled from Topps baseball card packs and wax lips. Ahhh… The adventure of youth.
•••A birthday is just the first day of another 365-day journey around the sun. Enjoy the trip. •••
… And a very happy birthday to you!!!
Oh yeah, playing Statues! Wax lips!! So many years ahead to revisit these treasures and find plenty of new (and preferably, shiny and sparkly) ones. It happens that December is usually a very *good* month for me–partly, I admit, because I do my best to make sure everyone knows every party ever held is really all about me, and the winter holidays are *loaded* with parties. I wish to give you all of this spill-over happiness you can handle so your Decembers can be better for you. You deserve it. You are loved and needed. 🙂
Oh… this was such a wonderful skip down memory lane… the place we’ve been… but now, this poem for you (which I’m sure you’ll recognize!) Happy Birthday, creatively gifted, artistically talented and oh so wise Kathryn!
Oh, the Places You’ll Go!
by Dr. Seuss
Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.
You’ll look up and down streets. Look ’em over with care.
About some you will say, “I don’t choose to go there.”
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you’re too smart to go down any not-so-good street.
And you may not find any
you’ll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you’ll head straight out of town.
It’s opener there
in the wide open air.
Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen,
don’t worry. Don’t stew.
Just go right along.
You’ll start happening too.
OH!
THE PLACES YOU’LL GO!
You’ll be on your way up!
You’ll be seeing great sights!
You’ll join the high fliers
who soar to high heights.
You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have the speed.
You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you’ll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.
Except when you don’t
Because, sometimes, you won’t.
I’m sorry to say so
but, sadly, it’s true
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.
You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You’ll be left in a Lurch.
You’ll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you’ll be in a Slump.
And when you’re in a Slump,
you’re not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.
You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they’re darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?
And IF you go in, should you turn left or right…
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it’s not, I’m afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.
You can get so confused
that you’ll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place…
…for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.
NO!
That’s not for you!
Somehow you’ll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You’ll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.
With banner flip-flapping,
once more you’ll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you’re that kind of a guy!
Oh, the places you’ll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. there are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame! You’ll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.
Except when they don’t.
Because, sometimes, they won’t.
I’m afraid that some times
you’ll play lonely games too.
Games you can’t win
’cause you’ll play against you.
All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
you’ll be quite a lot.
And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance
you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on.
But on you will go
though the weather be foul
On you will go
though your enemies prowl
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.
On and on you will hike
and I know you’ll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.
You’ll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You’ll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life’s
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.
And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)
KID, YOU’LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!
So…
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O’Shea,
you’re off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So…get on your way!
What can I say–it’s CLASSIC! Thank you, Dr Seuss; Thank you Beautiful Barb. O loverly day! Yay hooray!
A long scroll down the page to my short reply. Happy, happy birthday. Welcome to this half of the century. I will celebrate heartily, in your honor. Thanks for sharing those wonderful thoughts.
Thank you, bella Bella, it’s great ‘over here’ already. I’m delighted if you’ll celebrate both heartily and at great length.
xo!
Kathryn
Kath, it’s just the beginning of the second half of your life story. Happy Birthday today, and many more to come. xoxo
Thank you, beloved Auntie! Here’s to us enjoying a long long time together yet to come.
Happy Birthday to you, Kathryn…sharing a year together sure sounds like the fun I would love to have. Hoping you are enjoying yourself 🙂
Thank you, dear Anyes, I look forward to your company as we plow through the delightful year ahead!
A slightly late Happy Birthday. Just entering your 50’s while I’m close to leaving mine. Speaking of remembering, I have vivid memories of my childhood – it’s what happened yesterday I have problems with.
What did you say?
Oh, thanks for the birthday greetings. So much better slightly late than only slightly happy! 🙂
Happy belated birthday. Green kool-aid was the one we avoided like the plague, it was red or grape only. But my brother and I had a collection of MAD magazines out of this world! I think I may still have a few. I could kick my past self for giving away my collection of comics when I got married the first time because I thought I was too “mature” to have them anymore.
All I can say is the green Kool-Aid probably explains a bunch about how I turned out! Probably lucky for you that you avoided it. 🙂 Thank goodness you had the MAD mags to steer you in the right direction after all! Maturity, schmaturity.
Thank you for the birthday well-wishing!
Dear Kath, happy belated birthday greetings! Life IS indeed good and I hope your day was Mahvelous. I’m sure it was. I look forward to your upcoming rant on the sanitization (is that a word? it is now (to quote one of my favorite people!)) of play and the demise of the innocent and adventurous childhood most of us had. Warm hugs to you and fond greetings (and a man-hug) to Richard. We miss you guys – gently and insistently. Road trip to Texas still in the offing, but I’m not sure when. Have a wonderful Christmas if I don’t manage to connect before then!
Thank you, Peter darling, all’s well with the partying here. R had a delightful concert with his Chamber Choir at noon on the 2nd, followed in the evening by a gorgeous concert with his Collegium and the UNT Baroque Orch. This Sunday evening was the first of 2 Lessons and Carols @ the church, which went beautifully and I expect will be equally lovely, if not even more so, on its second outing next Sunday. A slew of Xmas Eve services, a New Year’s Day service, and then we’ll sneak a couple of days OFF. For now, enjoying tons of good music, though of course we’re *homesick* for Edmonton and our loved ones there, especially around PC concert times! Sending much love in your direction.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! I hope it was an amazing day for you. I too lived in a neighbourhood with open doors and packs of kids and playground equipment that most definitely did NOT have three feet of impact-absorbant material underlying or any sort of speed-limiting device. We were dirty and over-sugared, scabby and wild. We ate all manner of synthetically enhanced food, stayed out until the street lights came on, and were well aware that Mrs. Anderson on the corner had exactly as much disciplinary authority as our own mums. And it was The Most Fun Ever. Thanks for the trip down memory lane. Happy birthday, sweet lady. ((hugs))
Apparently we grew up in the same neighborhood, just a couple thousand miles apart! 😉
Yes, a good b’day, capped by dinner with friends–and more fun to come throughout the rest of the month. That’s the advantage of a Dec birthday: I just claim all of the holiday parties as my own. They are, aren’t they???
Well, silly me, I’m a day behind on reading or we would have known it was your birthday yesterday! Glad to know we were able to share not only the anniversary of your birth but such good friendship and conversation AND dinner. We need to do that one over so you don’t have to cook on your birthday! See you tomorrow.
Thanks to you two for sharing the time with us! We always enjoy being with you. No need for do-overs, except that–well, we enjoy being with you! 🙂
And many more ♬
Gosh, not only are you a gorgeous black and white cat but you sing beautifully too! Thank you!
Happy belated birthday. How I missed your blog yesterday I don’t know. I hope you celebrate more than one day. You are a delight to so many.
Thank you, my darling, I’ve had *two* good days of birthday-week for a starter, and expect to keep on partying for as long as I can get away with it.
xo,
Kathryn