10 Dates, Rave

10 Dates in the Past – December 15th 1945

It’s been awhile since I did this but this is the next installment in 10 dates. I thought it would be cool to if given the chance pick 10 dates to visit in the past. The next one is a personal one and although it is fourth on my list, remember the list isn’t in any particular order.

  1. December 15, 1945 – The Wedding of My Grandparents – South Philadelphia

My dad’s mom loved to tell stories and everyone loved to listen to them because they were always so colorful. She grew up a poor Irish Catholic in an Italian neighborhood in South Philly. Her father was a master plumber but like most Irish, he drank away all the money. She would tell stories of her father coming home drunk and putting a pot of spaghetti on his head and putting meatballs in his pockets. He would then proceed to walk down 9th street throwing the meatballs at kids because he was pissed his daughters were cooking Italian food. The way she told the stories made the absurd sound casual and through her I learned the art of storytelling.

I’ve never met anyone who was able to tell a story like my grandmother and I was thrilled when my aunt recently gave me a cassette tape of my cousin interviewing my grandmother. It felt like magic to once again hear her voice and have stories of her childhood come to life. One story on the tape that I had yet to hear was how she met and married my grandfather. They had lived in the same neighborhood and one day my grandfather asked her out on a date. She politely declined because she knew he was going with this other girl. That other girl threatened to cut my grandmother’s face with a milk bottle and she responded with, “honey this face is too pretty for you to scar.” My grandfather was persistent and soon they were going together and after the war they got married.

Their wedding took place December 15, 1945 in South Philly. Their wedding was no grand affair, they made sandwiches the night before and only had beer and whiskey at the reception. I do not know if my great grandfather showed up sober or drunk and caused some antics but judging by his track record I will go with the later. As great as my grandmother was at telling stories to be able to go back and see a story of hers actually come to life would be amazing. To finally see my grandparents young, to meet that man who loved to wear spaghetti on his head, to see the old neighborhood as she remembered it would be a sensory overload and I would enjoy every moment of it.

Their wedding picture, the one at the top of this blog, hung in their house for as long as I could remember. As a kid I could not comprehend that the people in the photo were my grandparents and I had wished for years that picture would come to life. This would be my chance and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

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Rant

Voicemails

I love voicemails. I love leaving them and I love receiving them. I don’t understand why people are so against them. There is nothing more awkward than talking to someone on the phone. Well actually there are things more awkward BUT talking on the phone is one of my least favorite things to do. There is just some kind of pressure that comes with talking on the phone; the phone is ringing for a reason. There are no visual cues to aide in conversation when talking on the phone which only leads to awkward silences and interruptions. Leaving a voicemail solves those problems and makes a phone call much more pleasant to make.

No one calls just to say hello, don’t believe them because there is always some ulterior motive when that phone rings. There are dozens of reasons why people call each other and not one of them is just to say hello. The phone rings because they want something from you. They want to tell you a story, they want to ask you a question, they want to hear a story, they have a favor to ask you or they are bored and want to pass the time, etc. When the phone rings and I see the name on the caller ID, I run scenarios through my head of why that person is calling me and not just sending a text. Now I grant you most of these scenarios are inane and I am crazy but that’s just how I roll.

Now people will tell you that with the advent of caller ID there is no reason to leave a voicemail; I call bullshit. Yea so what I know who called but it is more important to know what you WHY you called. Before I go on let me just say that called ID is probably the single most important invention of the 20th century. Ok maybe that is a bit of a stretch but I can’t imagine answering a phone without caller ID. I never answer the phone unless I know who is calling me; that is of course if I answer the phone. There is nothing worse when you see a missed call from a number that you don’t recognize and they don’t leave a voicemail. Really, that’s cool.

The only thing worse that small talk is small talk on the phone. The key to small talk is usually talking about the weather but that is nearly impossible on the phone and when it is possible talking about the weather is just plain stupid. Without the aid of seeing your face and judging your reactions I have nothing to build the conversation on. I also have no idea of when you are about to speak which then leads to both of us talking at the same time or the dreaded awkward silence. Dead air and constantly losing my train of thought from an interruption is not how I want to spend the precious little time I spend on the phone.

Frankly, Voicemails are more efficient than just a missed call and should be used more often. A voicemail leaves you ample time to state why you are calling which then removes all the anxiety of the missed call. I do not need to wonder why you called me and I can put those inane scenarios to bed. It also allows me to decide how important it is that I call you back. When I do call you back we can cut right to the chase instead of wasting our time on small talk and pleasantries.

So the next time I don’t answer the phone, save me the anxiety, leave me a voicemail and let me call you back. Don’t be surprised though if I just shoot a text, sorry but that’s how I roll.

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Rambling

Dream On

I am not a very visual person. My brain is just not wired that way. It should translate into me taking more pictures but that’s a different story for another day. Everyone’s brain is wired differently but across all those different configurations no one is wired to access 100% of their brains. If someone was wired that way the possibilities would be limitless (anyone see that movie?).

Since I am not a visual person I rarely dream and when I do I only remember clips and phases with many details overlooked. I don’t always see faces, images are not completely processed, the background is not flushed out, etc. On the rare occasion that I do dream and it is one that I retain a good portion of I am always amazed at the power of the subconscious.

For example the other night I dreamt I was buying a birthday card for my grandmother’s 50th birthday party. Now I was not alive when either of my grandmother’s turned 50 but here I was in the store attempting to buy a card. I can still see the aisle (a few more days and I won’t) and there were tons of people in the store buying cards. I saw faces and even almost got into an altercation with another guy buying cards. Now being the sentimental person that I am I wanted the perfect card to make her laugh and cry. I searched through at least six cards. Each card I picked up had a distinct design on the front and distinct words contained within. Two of the cards I picked up didn’t have enough words or I didn’t like the first couple lines so I put them back. The two in the middle said Nana or Grandma on them and I never called her that. The last two were lengthy. My memory fails me now on what they exactly said but they were my feelings in some poetry form.

Where in the hell did all of that come from? I can barely describe places I have been or describe someone but my subconscious is able to create an entire aisle of cards and people shopping. It takes me hours to write a blog entry but my subconscious can whip up beautiful poetry? What the hell, we should be more conscious of our subconscious.

With that being said, I am a firm believer in “sleeping on it.” There have been several times in my life when I have slept on something and in my dream answered a question or was guided in the right direction. I’ve read that the subconscious is a vast library of all your experiences and emotions. We use experiences and emotions when faced with decisions; it is just not fair that we only have access to a limited portion of those tools.

If we had access to more of them I think the possibilities would be limitless. I am not talking about telepathy or being able to do crazy math problems I am just talking about being able to remember where you saw something before or how you felt at a similar time in your life; access to information that could help you when faced with a problem. I love to be informed and it irritates me that I am only able to access my subconscious through uncontrollable dreaming. Someone needs to get me a library card to my subconscious because my dreams just aren’t cutting it.

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