Posted tagged ‘Vermont’

“If it weren’t for Philo T. Farnsworth, inventor of television, we’d still be eating frozen radio dinners.”

February 4, 2017

Today is a cold, clear winter’s day, the sort of winter’s day when the chill takes your breath away. The sky is an amazing blue with not even a cloud in sight.

I took a ride back in time this morning. First, I happened on Lassie, my Lassie with Jeff and Porky. I watched it without a critical eye. Ellen, his mother, wore the same outfit every 50’s mom wore, the same outfits Donna Reed and June Cleaver wore: dresses, high heels and some sort of jewelry, mostly pearls. The wall phone in the kitchen was one of those with a mouthpiece, a piece you hold to your ear and a crank you keep turning until the operator answers. I remember one vacation when we stayed in a huge, old house in Vermont. It had one of those wall phones, but when I tried it, I got a shock. I have no idea why that stuck with me. Anyway, back to Lassie. Ellen kept cranking. Jeff and Porky needed saving from drowning so Lassie came to the rescue and showed Gramps where the boys were.

If I were sitting on the floor in front of the TV and eating Rice Krispies, I’d swear I had been transported for a time back to the Saturday mornings of my youth as The Lone Ranger was on next. Right away I knew the voice of the Ranger wasn’t Clayton Moore’s. This episode was dated May 28, 1953 and was Season 3, Episode 38. I looked it up. It was John Hart who played the Ranger for 54 episodes from 1950-1953 because of a contract dispute. The narrator set the time, “In the raw, crude early days of the west.” Some of the scenes, especially the beginning and the end, were filmed outside but most were just a set with lots of rocks, bushes and a painted backdrop of more rocks and trees. I never noticed when I was young. I guess being a kid means a major suspension of disbelief.

Every Lone Ranger episode had a couple of common lines. “Don’t let this mask fool you. It is on the side of the law,” and, at the end, one character aways asked, “Who was that masked man?”

Hi Ho, Silver, Away!

“How dreary – to be – somebody! How public – like a frog – to tell your name – the livelong June – to an admiring bog!”

June 12, 2011

The day is a mean one-the rain has left a damp chill. It’s a stay in, read all the papers and watch the ballgame sort of day. I may even sneak in a nap.

Everything is still. No wind blows the leaves. The pouring rain of yesterday has cleared the pollen. The yellow is finally gone. Now only a few drips from the roof disturb the silence.

Ants are in my kitchen. I found a couple in the sink. I figured they were advance scouts for the rest of the army. The traps have been set. The ants’ days are numbered.

The last couple of days have been uneventful. I’m probably jinxing myself by saying that, but I’ll take the chance.

My very favorite vacation when I was a kid was in Vermont. We were so far up state my parents went to a town in Canada for dinner. I love the beach, but I don’t love salt water. It makes my skin dry and itchy. In Vermont we were on a lake. It was filled with fish, and I could see them just off shore where the bottom dropped and the water got really deep. I don’t open in my eyes in the salt water, but I do in a lake. I could see all the fish darting out of my way as I swam underwater. My hand seemed to move in slow motion when I reached toward the fish. Some were really small and some were middle sized. I have no idea what kind they were. I knew catfish from the pond near our house where my brother often fished, but I didn’t know the names of any others. All I knew was they were really fast.

We traipsed through the dense pine woods, went frog hunting in the stream which ran parallel to the house and swam every day. I loved that vacation, and I’d do most of it again. I think I’d just eliminated the frog hunting. They’re too slimy for me now.