Whatever happened to traditional Thanksgivings? You know the kind with tons of gravy, stuffing and more gravy, potatoes and more gravy, and yams all loaded down and accessorized with pounds of butter. Who said back in the 50s that turkey was good for you?

 I recall as a small child my grandmother injecting her turkey with loads of butter and she topped it off with more butter. Hmmmm, now that is what I call a butter ball! Then there was the carbohydrate heaven which meant two kinds of stuffing, two kinds of potatoes, and two kinds of dinner rolls. And if we looked really hard on the table, there were vegetables, but I am sure that was a carb too, it was probably corn, with guess what? Lots of butter.

 I love TV and stuff showing the woman cooking the turkey and the man cutting it at the table. I have never really seen that done except on TV. I personally think carving the turkey is the hardest part, and my grandmother would be at her kitchen counter with her electric knife, swearing as she tried so hard to get that turkey cut. It was always that darn drumstick that got in the way.

 After the feast, we sat then ate puddings and pies. Lots of puddings, and lots of pies. The adults would drink beer and wine, and we kids would feel drunk on kool-aid and pudding. Though an odd combination, the taste was quite yummy.

 Today, we hardly use butter; it makes our cholesterol levels go up, so we look for the healthy alternatives. I did not say tasty ones; I simply stated healthy. We make choices which carb we would like at our table. Lord knows we do not serve two kinds of potatoes, two kinds of stuffing, or enough bread to feed an army. No we do not do that any longer. After all, we do not want to gain too many pounds because in America obesity is a growing problem that causes diabetes and high blood pressure, or some other new ailment that we will probably need a prescription drug for.

 Today, our table holds not a lot of carbs, no real butter, and a salt substitute so we don’t get high blood pressure. I am afraid to talk about dessert. So I will leave it at that, whatever did happen to the traditional Thanksgiving dinner?

Gossip by Norman Rockwell

I run a support group, and like any support group, it has its problems and issues. Some people want this while others want that. Some people like that while others like this. In the past few months, we have had a great deal of gossipers, which is really too bad because gossip is not the truth, just some poor, angry, bored people who need to stir a pot up and get attention for themselves. I realized that for the most part we need to pity people who gossip, and this got me thinking….

 Though we know it’s wrong, and we should not do it, and people get hurt, Americans love to gossip just as much as they love to listen to the gossip, and why not? We promote it! As we check out at the market, we see all sorts of gossip newspapers and magazines and we view the headline because we want to know which celebrity is getting fat, and who is cheating on whom, and then we pass it around like it was the drug we put in our crack pipes.

 But how did some of this Hollywood gossip get started? Why do Americans love to hear the dirt on celebrities and people they don’t even know? Well, I believe we can begin to unravel some of the mayhem with one of the queens of gossip, Rona Barrett.

 Rona Barrett became a gossip columnist for the newspaper Bell-McClure in 1957. In 1966, she began broadcasting Hollywood gossip on a Los Angeles television station. The rest is history. She became a national gossiper. Nearly every major star of the era revealed their deepest secrets to Barrett, and if they didn’t she sure created secrets. She had many fans, and enemies. Barrett made an enemyt of Frank Sinatra by criticizing his personal life, particularly his relationships with his children.

 So who is this wild and wacky woman who could do this? A gossiper! And guess what folks, we ate it up; in fact, we gobbled it up. We couldn’t get enough. People like Rona ate it up too. What she wouldn’t do to give the public something to talk about. She sent spies to get shots of Elvis and Priscilla kissing and sunbathing on his private property right after they were married.

 Why, she even picked on poor Frankie Avalon. He was a good guy, but Rona revealed that Avalon fathered a girl, born in December 1960, by a fan. She let the world know and truthfully it wasn’t even our business, but she was in the business of making it our business. In fact, to make it more of our business, Rona also produced prime-time specials, where she tried to make celebrities more down to earth and human by interviewing them in cozy settings. Oh now who does that sound like? Barbara Walters perhaps?

 Yes indeed, some things never change over the years no matter how much time has gone by. Good wine and good gossip. We have had Hedda Hopper, Louella Parsons, Rona Barrett, and now Barbara Walters. One will have to wonder who will be the next great American gossiper.

 Whatever happened to the good old-fashioned grocery store? I remember as a child shopping at a place called El Rancho and when you walked in, it seemed like everyone knew you. They knew what you wanted, what sort of meat cuts you liked; they probably even had your grocery list memorized. In fact, no doubt they knew that Monday was meatloaf and Thursdays were taco night in your house.

 A.J. Bayless in Tucson was another store that when you walked in the people said hello and knew you by name. The cashiers were kind and didn’t act put out, and the folks working the shelves and aisles would go out of their way to help you find something. These days you ask where the barley is and they run the other way or say wait a minute, and 20 minutes will go by, and you discover they went on break because they did not know where the barley was.

 I knew the friendly grocer era was ending when Lucky’s became ABCO, and ABCO became Smiths, and Smiths became Fry’s all in a short while. There were no more El Ranchos, no more Bayless, and no more grocers who smiled at you when you walked in the door.

 Today we have Super Walmart and Super Kmart and Super this and Super that, and no one in all that Superness can find me the barely! Heck, the stores are so big and the turnover of employees is so drastic that the clerk that checked you out last week at Fry’s now works at Park Mall.

 Well, that is if you have a clerk. These days we have machines that check you out. They don’t know your name and they quite frankly can careless what you buy. They just want to be sure you have scanned your items and paid for your food. These mechanical grocers just want to get you in and out as quickly as possible. It is like a food chain assembly line. It’s sort of sad.

 So I am glad the strike did not happen and people still have their jobs, and, hey, a little gratitude for all of us faithful shoppers who help pay for the employees. A smile once in a while, a friendly hello or perhaps just act like you are really glad we came and dropped our money at your store today. I do admit I shop at one of the Fry’s to get a few items weekly, and there is a middle-aged gentleman there who knows my  occupation , smiles, says hello and top of the day. They don’t make grocers like Cameron.  To me, he is the epitome of the kind, friendly grocer of yesteryear. And to top it off, he knows where the barely is!

 So let’s talk, what grocery stores do you remember, I know I am leaving out a handful!

In the meantime, enjoy this video

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-7542334938324218723

I lived in the neighborhood right off 22nd and Wilmot for years, and if I stood on my wall on a certain day of the week, I could see a line form at Cowboy’s that would almost wrap all the way around the building. I used to just stand on that wall and watch the ladies line up. They were lining up for ladies night as the male dancers prepared to woo the ladies through the night. Once in a while, I would go in after the line died down, but honestly, it was too much for me, and I would leave sort of snickering under my breath. I preferred some of the other night life in Tucson back in the 70s and 80s.

One boyfriend used to take me to the Hop Toad on 22nd because they weren’t always crowded and had some good bands. We would party with the bands and drink a few and dance until the bar closed. Though a small hole-in-the-wall dive, the music was generally good, until it wasn’t!

Sometimes we would go to Bobby McGee’s, eat a nice dinner and head to the lounge to drink and dance, while other times we would go to the Barons for dining and cover band dancing. Normally I would drink my brains out because I was too bored.

I was a young adult who could drink legally at 19, and I was not into wasting too much of my nightlife on top 40 cover bands. No more Somerset or The Embers! Take me to a place where I can get a nice cold beer, and a great rock and roll band!

Yep, I had had it with my boyfriend. I did not want the fancy dinners and boring dancing. Me and my gal pals would fill up, take some aspirin, so we would not be hung over, and head over to Choo-Choo’s Night Train on 4th Avenue and drink and dance the night away.

The nightclub Chances was always fun, but it burned down. I really enjoyed Dooley’s but it burnt to the ground too. Raffles was a great time, but sadly it shared the same fate as the others and ended up in embers also. These days, you just don’t find the kind of night life you did 30 years ago. It was a more carefree time. Bands rocked as you danced and drank till you dropped, then got back up and went out and did it again the next night.

I have been sober for 20 years, so I can’t say I still do that behavior and drink and dance the night away, but I suppose if there was a club cool enough and a band magical enough I would order me up an ice cold diet coke, and relive my younger days in those once upon a time nightclubs.

What about you? What clubs do you remember growing up in Tucson?

 As a kid growing up, our choices were easy as to where to find a good burger, and believe me, back then it wasn’t from dad’s grill. It was at one of the fast-food joints. In Tucson, right beyond my street, on Kolb road stood a beautiful lady in a plaid skirt named Sandy, and as a kid, I thought her burgers were the best. You got a thin, grey hamburger patty sitting on small white bun, with a little mustard and ketchup, and something that resembled a pickle. 

Alongside of the burger came french fries and they were long, thin, and hot. I always asked my mom to order them well done because I liked the crunch to them. I would smother those fries in ketchup. Maybe six or seven packs to eat a small fry. I topped that meal off with a rich chocolate shake, and the bill came to about 60 cents. Where else could you go for a meal like that?

 For fancier hamburger dining, I followed the lad in plaid. Bob’s Big Boy. Now there was a great burger. The double-decker burger with their special sauce oozing out the sides was a burger to behold.

It stood tall like a soldier standing at attention awaiting my command to chomp on it. As a child my mouth could barely wrap around that big thick double-layer burger, with not two, but three slices of yummy white bread. The hamburger meat wasn’t grey like Sandy’s; it looked like a real burger and the taste was out of this world.

 Another place for great burgers in Tucson was Shari’s Drive-in which was open for 53years at 1st Avenue and Glenn Street. Here again, we had that double-decker burger and when you bit into it, all sorts of yummy edible fluids leaked from the sides of your mouth, and you would have to take your tongue and lick it all off your face. They had homemade fries that were quite tasty. However, I have to admit, their shakes are what I shall remember them for most.

 They just don’t make burgers like they used to. Sadly, it is rare I go out for a burger anymore. I do not eat fast food, and there are only a couple of places that serve an affordable burger worth sullying the front of your shirt for. So what was your favorite burger joint growing up?

June Cleaver was the epitome of women on Prozac in the 50s. Though the introduction of the chemical lobotomy Prozac and its counterparts had not been invented quite yet, June Cleaver was truly on some sort of drug…or was she?

Poor woman, she was repressed, oppressed, and depressed which makes it hard to digest! She acted as if she was totally fulfilled in her role of the doting wife and mother. She spent her days cleaning the house, preparing meals, caring for her two boys, and never once broke a sweat. This woman seemed perfectly content in her kitchen, wearing an apron over her perfectly ironed dress.

This leads me to believe that June Cleaver was some sort of TV producers’ fantasy, and what a fantasy she was because every woman aspired to be like June Cleaver. These poor women did not know any better; they were prisoners of their own homes…or were they?

Yes it’s true. They had to do everything for their husbands I suppose because they were so helpless. After all, a man back then could not wash a dish, do his laundry, mop a floor, cook a meal, or even tend to his own children. He could toss a ball and play catch, but, truthfully, all men were good for in the 50s were to go to work and then come home and say, “Where’s my dinner.”

So when I start to think that poor June Cleaver was repressed and unable to do anything, I am reminded that she was the one who wore the pants in the house. I mean have you ever seen a man in the 50s cook three-square meals a day, make batches of oatmeal cookies, do the laundry, attend a PTA meeting, get the kids to school, clean the house, go to market, and not even get a wrinkle in his dress-white shirt? I highly doubt it!

So perhaps the 50s woman was not oppressed, and we should be impressed because the 50s man was so distressed if his woman could not do it for him. So hats off to all the June Cleaver’s, and Donna Reed’s, hats off to you for doing what no man in the 50s could do.

An offensive fad or just dumb?

I was reviewing the comments on my last article. I try not to be too attached to them as the Buddhist say attachments are not healthy. Still, I do try to respond when I get a chance to the comments. This last week I loved a comment sent to me stating that that they did not have to blare loud offensive music to have car independence. Now we are talking the Stones and The Who and Heart, not that I noticed that any of their music could be offensive let alone even when blared, crack a windshield, but I can appreciate the comment and it got me thinking…

 Back in the 1950’s when rock and roll music was probably very offensive to many people. Bill Haley & The Comets I am sure without a doubt offended many people. How dare he rock around the clock, why that is absurd don’t you know. And what is with Elvis? What was he really dong with his pelvis and the music… my goodness I think Hound dog was evil. What was it doing to our innocent generation of young kids?

Besides I am sure people who listened to that music would soon be sporting a duck tail wearing a leather coat and who knows even skipping Sunday school!  

 Danny & The Juniors sang At The Hop and it probably lured young innocent teens into malt shops creating conflict and havoc at home.  Little Richard sang Good Golly Miss Molly and it was loud and offensive besides, look at Little Richard; he was a black man that wore women’s make-up. Parents would make their children do 50 Hail Mary’s for even thinking about listening to that.

 Jerry Lee Lewis with his hits Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin On and Great Balls Of Fire was what some would call trash rock.  What does great balls of fire mean anyhow? And listen, when those old 50’s cars with their AM radios cruised down the streets with the music playing, it was just outrageous, why those darn teens! Next thing you know those girls will start wearing poodle skirts or something and start dancing.

 Then comes’ the 70’s. How dare we play the Beatles, The Stones, and The Who. How dare we grow our hair long, tune in and tune out, and play our 8 tracks or cassette players so loud, why if we rolled down our windows the car next to us might be able to hear The Who say ”Why don’t you all just f-f-f-f-f-f-ade away”. I am sure that was very offensive indeed because fade away must have meant something insulting to somebody somewhere.

 Speaking of offensive, platform shoes and please excuse the word, disco and disco fads was just horribly offensive. For so many of us raised in the 60’s, disco was a joke to music and musicianship, however nothing was more offensive than the clothing of the disco fad. Those clothes and that dancing, why, what was happening to our kids?

 Well I suppose nothing is as offensive then what is happening today. If someone thinks listening to The Who is offensive you have to wonder what they think about gangster rap, loud music you can her two blocks away and guys who wear their pants down to their hips so low, that they can’t even get in their car unless they pull their pants up.

Well I suspect in 20 years this gangster rap generation will be saying, “that’s offensive” to the next wave of fads and music. Personally I can’t imagine anything worse than it is now, and am almost afraid to imagine what could be more offensive then my windshield being cracked over thumping music telling me to go kill someone, nor a fad worse than showing off my underwear and walking so funny that people like me have to take their blackberry and film it so we can laugh at it on youtube… but I am sure the next craze will be offensive so someone, somewhere,  somehow.

In 1976, I was a senior at Santa Rita High School. 17 year olds, in my day, needed not only a driver’s license but a car. At 17, I had saved some money to buy some sort of used car. A friend of mine had a green 1969 Chevy Camaro with an awesome stereo system. He was going to sell it to me for $350.00. SOLD! I said; however, my parents considered it a sports car, and they believed that bad things could happen—like sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Oh yeah, they also thought that only sporty cars got into accidents. Not to mention that many parents thought that Satan’s spawn lived in the glove compartment of all sporty cars. (I wonder if Satan’s spawn lived in mini-vans?)

 I finally settled for a four-door Mercury Comet. It was a nice little “family car” that was blue and white and looked very, hmmmm, well, looked like a family car. But for me, it was my freedom! I put an awesome stereo in it and blared The Rolling Stones, Fleetwood Mac, The Who, Thin Lizzy, Aerosmith, and Heart, and I did not have to listen to the radio stations that played the Bee Gees and ABBA.

 Dating became very fun as a 17 year old with a car. I had heard the rumors that cars were a great place to make out, but never had made out in my own car before. It was always someone else’s car. There is something a little different when you owned your own car and made out in it. You kissed like an adult and not a 17 year old, whatever that meant and who knows, I was just 17.

 It was fun being a 17-year-old car owner when you got mad. I would be angry at my folks, get in my car, crank The Who up, and drive off into the night. Old Spanish Trail and River road were fun to drive when you were angry or thinking. Just drive the curves and crank the tunes and it was every 17-year-olds’ escape mechanism. Well until you got home and got the lecture that cars are dangerous and at 17 you still needed permission to make a dramatic angry exit out the door.

 But my parents didn’t worry to much because I owned a family car and not a sporty car, so they knew I would not get in an accident, or do awful things in that car like make out. Sadly, a few months later, my four-door family car and I got in a wreck. I flipped my car three-in-a-half times in front of my high school a few days before graduation. I was okay except for a few busted ribs and some cuts and bruises. More important I managed to save the car stereo and opted to get another car, this time one a little sportier. Who cares if Satan’s spawn lived in the glove compartment, those family cars were too dangerous for a 17 year old anyhow.

 So what do you remember about your first car?

 As a kid, I used to play lots of board games. I had several favorite board games. As a very young child I loved ladders and Chutes. As I got older, Clue and Life were my favorites. Ahhh but Monopoly was fun as well. Though with Monopoly, it could go on for days and my sister and I would always put the board under the bed with the pieces still in tact so we could play the next day.

 Hands Down was another game my sister and I played. It was sort of a card game and you slapped these hands down, thus the name, “Hands Down” I remembered we slapped it so hard that the game broke pretty quickly. The same thing happened with the game Mousetrap. Some of these games were made of cheap plastic and fell apart, still they were the games us kids felt we could not live without.

 My sister wanted the Mystery Date game and received that one year for Christmas. Even as a young child, I laughed at the door on the board game and watched my sister and her friends play it. I thought it was the dumbest game of all, but I remember my sister thought it was all that and more.

 For me as a kid I would always ask for several board games each year for Christmas and birthdays and I recall some of the silliest games such as  a game called Swack which was a huge mouse trap and you had to take little plastic chunks of cheese before you hand got SWACKED!  Cootie was a must have game even if you didn’t like, you had to own it if you wanted to be considered a real “gamer” .

I was a young hippie and a rock and roller so of course for me,what would be a game if we did not have a game with the Beatles?  I had The Beatles Flip Your Wig which sold in 1964 for about 3 bucks and now goes for almost 1,000. Sure wished I held onto mine.

 Battleship, Scrabble, Operation, Checkers, Password, Parcheesi, Yahtzee, Twister, Concentration, were all games that lined our closets as kids. I sadly did not hang on to any of those games. I will say that even today, when going to friend’s homes, there is nothing like playing a good old fashioned game and spending the evening laughing and giggling . Does this mean I am old, or just like having fun?

What was your favorite games growing up?

 My father helped build the set over 40 years ago. I remember as a little girl leaning on the post by the front of the ranch watching the set go up. Sometimes, after the set was built, we would go and watch the filming. Of course, I was excited to revisit the set that my father helped build so long ago.

 The cast was there including Henry Darrow who played Manolito Montoya, Don Collier who played Sam Butler, Ted Markland who played Reno, and, of course, Rudy Ramos who played Wind. I spoke with each one of them, asking how they felt being back on the set, and you could tell by the looks on their faces, that they were back home. “Marvelous,” said Rudy Ramos, “It’s good to be back here and see so many fans.” Rudy was very grateful for his time with the series, which aired 98 episodes from 1967 to 1971.

I continued talking with the actors and spoke with the producer gathering details about the show. And then it hit me, the fans were everywhere, oozing their sense of excitement. I walked up to one gal and asked where she was from, “South Dakota,” she said, “We drove. I would not miss this for anything.” I thought that sure is a long drive to see these guys.

 I asked another gal, where she was from, “This is my first time to the United States. I am from Australia. They started airing this a while back, and I just love it,” she said. I was amazed that someone would travel so far to be with their TV icons.

 I continued to ask people where they were from and why they were here. They came from London, New Zealand, Ireland, and Guatemala to name a few. It was impossible to keep up with all the people, who had one thing in common, The High Chaparral. “The High Chaparral brought together cultures,” said Patryca Duran y Chaves, “Finally, the Mexican-American culture had Hispanic heroes.”

 I asked Penny McQueen the organizer for the event what’s up with these diehard fans. Penny reminded me that she is one of these diehard fans. She said her mother told her, “It’s a TV show. None of these people are real, and you are never going to meet them anyway.” She is proud to have taken over organizing this event.

 Penny said that The High Chaparral was a groundbreaking show using a live-action set. “It was realistic, and it made you feel like you were there.” McQueen stated that it was a show that integrated cultures together and did so much more, in fact; it was one of the most successful westerns on TV.

 The fans amazed me. I went there to cover an old TV western and talk to the actors, but I spent more time with the fans, and their pure excitement about this show. These fans all stated they had one thing in common that bonded them all; they loved the show. I asked one fan how it felt to be here with her heroes and, with tears in her eyes, she said, “You are walking on sacred ground.” I smiled at her, tilted my visor, and headed off into the sunset.