Signature

Everything about the event was quiet, subdued, and well-behaved. Alice Walker sat dignified and splendid in her dreadlocks, adding signatures to a slow parade of books that were laid before her on the table like offerings from her worshippers. She’d given a stirring talk. We’d all purchased the new book. The evening was winding down as the line of autograph seekers snaked by her table. When I finally reached her, I handed her my book and a photo of my granddaughter beside a big pot of purple flowers. In a shaky voice, I said, “. . .

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Cheerios

Cheerios have become on of those heart healthy foods. Eat your oats, folks. I remember eating them as a child. They were my favorite breakfast. But not alone. They were accompanied by bacon and toast. Bacon threw the heart healthy idea out the window, but what did we know back then? Putting bacon grease in your food was the ultimate way to ensure good taste. It was in the green beans, in the skillet to sear the roast before letting it slow cook for hours, in the gravy. Now when I eat Cherrios, it’s with 1% milk, no bacon, and fake margerine with no cholosterol on my low cal toast. No wonder breakfast doesn’t excite anticipation any more.

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The Me Sockpuppet

##begin transparency##

In the spirit of ethical behavior and transparency, its time to reveal who the me sockpuppet known as “First 50” really is. (I wouldn’t want to be compared with the now famous sockpuppet of the Whole Foods CEO that I wrote about on BlogHer.) My name is Virginia DeBolt. I’ve written some books for teachers about using the writing process with children, and I’ve linked to them on amazon.com on the page How First 50 Words Works, which might result in a few cents of income for me if one of you buys a book using the links here. I’ve also written two books about making web sites. These books are prominently displayed on both my Home Page and my blog Web Teacher. Links to those sites are in the blogroll on this blog. Again, I have links to my books on amazon.com on both those sites. If you buy them using those links, I make a few cents. In ethical terms, I could profit as much as five or ten dollars a year from readers of this blog.

But that’s not why I’m blogging here. My books are technical. Most of my other blogging efforts are rather technical, too. I’m doing this for fun. It gives me a chance to play and forces me to be just a bit creative each time I post. I just want to have fun, to misquote Sheryl Crow. I do not intend to hoodwink you with my alternate persona “first 50.”

##end transparency##

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Summer Rain

I left the restaurant in one of those summer rains the mountain was prone to give. The sun shone brightly where I walked, lighting up each raindrop as if it were a cup of silver. As soon as I got away from the crowded main street and was headed up the hill to my place, I stopped and looked up. There was no cloud over my head, just brilliant blue. The scent of wet pine and damp earth, mixed with the not so pleasant smell of stale beer from a dumpster behind a bar made me smile. I started to sing “Proud Mary,” and . . .

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Lady Bird

Lady Bird Johnson died in Austin yesterday. She was powerful and influential during her husband’s career, and did many things on her own and after his death that were equally important. The thing I most appreciate about her is her dedication to beautification of the country. Not just the wild flowers in Texas, which are spectacular, but the planting of flowers elsewhere, the litter pickup and removal along the highways, the removal of a large number of billboards along the highways. Every year her efforts bring joy to people. Every year her efforts encourage people to take a breath, pause, remember the beauty of nature, . . .

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My Worst Mistake

I liked the movie Evening, despite its bad reviews. Afterwards we talked over coffee about the idea from the film about our worst mistakes. I don’t look back on my life with regret, I discovered. I went through a good many experiences that made me miserable at the time, but if I wished them away I wouldn’t have what I have now. I wouldn’t be me. So they weren’t mistakes, but learning experiences, passages, messages and opportunities.

How do you know when you’re in the middle of a miserable spell that it will be something worth getting through in the end? I . . .

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Wrecking ball

“Jerry, look!” Tom raised his dirt streaked head above a pile of lumber to search for Jerry. “Here,” he called. “Over here.”

Jerry scrambled through the rubble. He stopped atop a broken cinder block and looked at Tom’s find. It was a scarred wrecking ball. A couple links of a broken chain dangled from the top. “Cool,” he breathed.

“Let’s move it,” Tom said. “We can roll it over to the club house.” . . .

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Blue veins

Grandma, that’s gross
How your veins are big
And all blue
And stick up like that.

Grandma, that’s gross
How those little skin
Thingies poke up
And wiggle like that.

Kid, you should be so lucky
To keep growing long enough
To have big blue veins and
Skin tags and wrinkles.

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The Kid

The kid was guilty of being black in a white neighborhood. Very suspicious behavior. The two women chatting in the shade of a huge nonbearing pear tree watched his progress down the sidewalk with trepidation.

“What does he want?” one said.

“He looks dangerous,” the other said.

He approached and they both stepped back a bit. He said, “I’m looking for yard work. Mowing lawns, pulling weeds. You ladies need any help?”

They . . .

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The Kid

One of the thriving industries in my state is Billy the Kid. Recently a spate of new talk reinterpreting his life appeared. One is a major display at the Art and History Museum with all sorts of artifacts and photographs attracting a lot of interest.

Our state also boasts lots of tourist spots claiming to be places where he went or lived or was buried, such as The Billy the Kid Museum in tiny Fort Sumner.

This is early Sopranos. Idealization of outlaws is a continuing theme in the American psyche . . .

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