My Adventures In Photography, Movies, Thrift and Life

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Monday September 21 2015

September 2015 I am ashamed that I have not written a new blog in all this time! These few little sentences are simply to HOLD my blog so that they don't shut it down while I prepare something new! Heaven forbid!

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Walk A Mile In His Shoes: Remembering Carl Perkins

Walk A Mile in His Shoes: Remembering Carl Perkins
By Sharon Horodyski

Those shoes were the original cool blue suede kind, and during his lifetime he blazed a path that many followed, including, among so many others, a little band called The Beatles. Carl Perkins, with his rich baritone, may well be considered the father of Rockabilly music, and during his life, he stayed true to the sound that he started recording in 1955. One of the grand and glorious Sun Records Million Dollar Quartet, he joined Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Elvis Presley in creating a new, unique sound that was heard round the world, and is still echoing to this day, more than fifty five years later.

Like his other Sun counterparts, Carl Perkins truly was born dirt poor as a sharecropper’s son in Tennessee, in April of 1932. He said that his first guitar was made out of a cigar box, a broomstick, and wire. He was taught to play by a cotton picker on the plantation where his father worked, and from these very rustic beginnings he eventually learned how to play an electric guitar. After some years, Carl formed The Perkins Brothers Band with his brothers Jay and Clayton, and began playing local roadhouses. Carl worked old boogie-woogie rhythms into up-tempo honky-tonk, and enjoyed the reaction he got from dancers and audiences with this new hybrid of music. He was constantly re-writing and re-working songs until he thought it sounded just right. Around this time, Carl was busy sending demos to New York City, which were rejected for having “no commercial value.”

In 1954 Carl heard Elvis Presley on the radio, and hearing a similar style, he headed to Memphis to demand an audition from the legendary Sam Phillips. Carl was in turn signed to Sun Records, and produced several early tunes (“Movie Magg”, “Turn Around”, and “Let The Jukebox Keep On Playing”.) that Sam promoted in a strictly country vein. Sam Phillips feeling was that Elvis (the rising King) and Carl were too similar in style and that there was only room for one big rockabilly act.

By late 1955 Elvis had become too big for Sam and Sun to continue handling, and Elvis’ contract was sold to RCA Victor. In his absence, Carl was encouraged by Sam to turn up the heat in the studio a bit, and one of the songs he let loose with was “Blue Suede Shoes.” It was a pivotal moment in Carl’s career.

It’s almost impossible to underestimate the impact and influence of “Blue Suede Shoes”, a song Carl got the idea for by overhearing conversation between a couple on the dance floor. Blue Suede Shoes rose to the top of the charts, and became Sun Records’ first million seller. It sold TWO million, as a matter of fact, an enormous feat in those early days. It was the first song to ever appear on the pop, country, and R&B charts, making it truly the first “crossover” record. Carl’s gold record for it was his most prized possession, and he always said he “Wore it out looking at it.” It was unfathomable to him that he had come literally from the cotton fields to a gold record. To this very day, Blue Suede Shoes is a rock-and-roll anthem, glorifying our kind of music and the fashion that goes with it. Blue Suede Shoes, more than any other song, declared young people’s emancipation from their parent’s music, and opened the door for rock and roll to take the whole country (and not just the south) by storm.

Carl’s day in the sun however, was unfortunately very short lived. In 1956, The Perkins brothers were driving up to New York City, where they were scheduled to appear on The Perry Como Show to perform their hit song on television. In Delaware, the lives of all were changed forever by a near fatal accident. Their manager was killed, and all surviving were critically injured. Carl remained in traction for weeks, and it was there that he first saw Elvis performing HIS song, Blue Suede Shoes on the Dorsey Brothers television show. Elvis recorded the song, and the rest, as they say, is history. Carl remained in bad physical shape, and, depressed and in debt for medical bills, began drinking heavily and did not really work again until 1959.

Always the true southern gentleman, Carl said he was never bitter about Elvis’ fame, it seemed he was just sadly resigned to life’s course of events. He said on more than one occasion that, looking back, he was fighting a losing battle because it was against a “good looking cat called Elvis, who had beautiful hair, wasn’t married, and had great movies.” Carl continued recording for Sun, though none of his releases did anywhere near as well as Shoes. He followed friend Johnny Cash over to Columbia Records, and sadly discovered that company did not employ the free-spirited and creative attitude that perhaps was the reason Sun was so lucky for so many. Again, although he recorded, sales were slow, and he moved to Decca and then eventually back to playing roadside honky tonks. Carl could not yet know that his records were being worshipped far across the sea.

In 1964 he was offered a tour of England, and accepted, swearing off the bottle and hoping to turn his career around. Amazingly, in England he was treated as a rock-and-roll king by audiences who had been craving American music, and had been snatching up his records to buy as soon as they came off the loading docks in Liverpool. Four of these fans happened to be musicians calling themselves The Beatles.

The Beatles were huge fans of Carl’s music, and George Harrison in particular; as the lead guitarist. George had even used the stage name CARL Harrison as a tribute to their rockabilly idol. They were eager to meet with Carl, play with him, and learn from him. Songs like “Sure To Fall”, “Your True Love”, Matchbox”, “Honey Don’t”, and “Everybody’s Trying To be My Baby” were staples for The Beatles, and Carl was invited into the Abbey Road Studios when they recorded their hit versions of his songs, which was an honor on both sides. Carl’s depression was gone, feeling now that he was not a has-been, and motivated by his previously unknown success in the U.K. The Beatles themselves went on to record more songs by Carl Perkins than any other outside artist. In addition to those that they recorded, they also frequently performed “Tennessee”, “Lend Me Your Comb”, and “Gone, Gone, Gone”. John Lennon also recorded “Blue Suede Shoes” as a solo artist, and Carl remained friends with all of them; frequently working with Paul, George, and Ringo throughout the 1980’s, even until Carl’s last recordings in 1996.

In 1967, Carl gave up alcohol for good, and for the remainder of the 1960s and into the 1970s, he enjoyed his regular gig as guitarist for friend Johnny Cash, traveling all over the world as part of Johnny’s road band. Perkins wrote “Daddy Sang Bass” for Cash, which he recorded and it became a number one hit in 1969. He also performed as a featured guitarist for many other popular country artists, and was seen often on The Glen Campbell T.V show. By the early 1980s, Carl was still enjoying being able to perform on a regular basis, and had a new band with his sons backing him. Again, although he was unsuspecting, the Perkins rocket was about to take off one more time, fueled by fans he didn’t even know he had.

The rockabilly revival of the early 1980s, led by the Stray Cats, The Rockats, and others, jet-started Carl’s career as once again he was in demand all over the world. Although The King was gone by that time, other early rockers like Carl, Roy Orbison, Johnny Cash, and Jerry Lee Lewis (all; at one time or another, part of the Sun Records stable of stars) enjoyed a renaissance through baby-boomers who were too young, or not even alive, the first time around. They truly enjoyed their rightful place as the fathers of rock and roll, and subsequently gathered together for a successful album titled “Class of ‘55”, released in 1986. Carl toured with Roy Orbison, covering all their hits and showing younger audiences that time had not dampened their own enthusiasm for the music that they invented 30 years earlier. He also headlined a hit cable T.V special called “Carl Perkins and Friends”, co-starring many major artists including Ringo Starr, George Harrison, and Eric Clapton. Carl was subsequently inducted into The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1987.

Diagnosed with throat cancer in the early 1990s, Carl nevertheless continued to work as much as he could. In 1996, he released what would be his final CD, “Go Cat Go”, which really was a celebration of a lifetime of music. “Fans” such as Paul McCartney, George Harrison, Ringo Starr, Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Tom Petty, Paul Simon, John Fogerty, Lee Rocker, Bono, Joe Walsh, Billy Preston, all joined in on Perkins songs through the years. “Go Cat Go” even featured Jimi Hendrix and John Lennon putting in performances from that great stage in Rock and Roll Heaven. Carl knew this was to be his last recordings, and he said “My Old Friend”, a duet with McCartney, “meant more to him than any other song he had ever written”, which is quite a weighty statement. “You invited me in, treated me like kin, and gave me a reason to go on”. Perhaps Carl was waxing nostalgic about those days in England in the 1960s, or perhaps it was his ever- present optimism, just plain happy and satisfied that his music meant something to people.

Carl Perkins, weakened by cancer, succumbed to a series of strokes in 1998. His funeral will always be remembered as a joyful festival of tears. George Harrison, who had ironically already been diagnosed with the throat cancer that would eventually claim his life, played guitar and sang “Your True Love”. Elton John, Eric Clapton, and Paul McCartney gave tributes. Wynonna Judd read a letter from Bob Dylan, which stated that in 1950s “Carl Perkins really stood for freedom. That whole new sound stood for all the degrees of freedom. It would jump off the turntable, and we wanted to go where that was happening.”

I think that Carl would like to be remembered by his own lyrics, written in “My Old Friend”; “If we never meet again this side of life, in a little while, over yonder, where it’s peace and quiet; My Old Friend; won’t you think about me every now and then… May this goodbye never mean the end.” A more than suitable epitaph for this sentimental gentle giant who helped pave the path we call rock and roll. In the end, Carl Perkins went out the way he first came into fame; always cool, exuding grace under fire, and sailing along on a river of rockabilly. Oh, yeah, and he was wearing those Blue Suede Shoes, of course.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Sharon and The Camera Bug

Somewhere in the basement, in 1968 or so, I found an old Kodak camera. I picked it up and was instantly mesmerized! I would go around the house, taking pictures of the cat, the canary, and other things, even though there was no film in the camera. I must have gotten to be a nuisance, because eventually my Mom got some black and white film for that camera and let me go crazy.

I know you will find it hard to believe, but I still have those photos that I took in the fall of 1968. Most were artistic views of the blinding sun, evidently. I have one of a neighborhood playmate, Pam, dancing around with her bicycle by my front window. There is a streak of light coming out of Pam that is so bright it looks like her head is exploding with a hundred bolts of lightning.

One of my most cherished photos came out of my first session. Every fall, our family took a trip out to North Ridgeville, Ohio to DEKE’S APPLE FARM. That was way out in the country at that time, … now it’s the suburbs. We would pick apples and enjoy the smell of a fire on a crisp autumn day. We always came home with enough apples to ensure that my Grandma would still be baking pie at Christmas.

I must have convinced my Aunt Anna to pose for me, and that was my very first portrait. Aunt Anna stood in front of the barn door, pleasant smile on her face, hand in pocket. She is wearing a dress and a fall coat, and even a little flowery hat on her head. (In those days, ladies didn’t wear jeans for a Sunday drive with the family.) I still stare at that photo, and Aunt Anna smiles back at me from that sunny day some forty-three years ago. Part of me kind of believes that if I stare at it long enough, I will suddenly be transported back in time for a cherished moment.

Photographs are like that, and that is one of the best things about them. Time stands still, and we are magically able to go back in time, just by visualizing a moment and remembering the precious memories of all the happy days gone by. Just hold it in your hand and really look at that photo, and you will know what I mean.

As The Kinks once sang, “People take pictures of the Summer, Just in case someone thought they had missed it, And to prove that it really existed. Fathers take pictures of the mothers, and the sisters take pictures of brothers, Just to show that they love one another.”

For some reason, that was the end of my picture-taking career until 1969. For my 10th birthday, one of the best gifts I received was a Kodak 104 camera. Presents that are square and kind-of heavy like that are always good, for the usually hold some kind of gift like cameras, tape recorders, tiny TV sets, or other great and fancy enchantments. Way back then, cameras were in a beautiful Kodak yellow presentation box; you actually opened up a hinged box that somehow resembled a treasure chest! Inside was the camera, batteries, flashcubes, and an instruction book. It was a fabulous gift from my parents, and I took photos all the way from Cleveland to Miami on vacation. Unfortunately, back then, things that were very large in person, ended up being very small in those instamatic photos. Not quite as I remembered. Even the great ocean liner, The Queen Elizabeth, looked small in my photos, even though it took three little 126 pictures to make up one Queen Elizabeth ship.

I was a little less enthusiastic for a few years.

Then, in 1976, Paul McCartney and Wings came to the United States on tour. This was HUGE, folks, absolutely huge. Paul McCartney had never toured the States at that time, and coverage of the WINGS concerts all across the country were on daily network newscasts, newspapers, and magazines. Linda McCartney (who at that time, rarely smiled and looked pretty darn snooty about being married to Paul) was always seen with her camera, and people kept writing that she was the Eastman Kodak heiress, and she kept saying she was NOT, she just liked taking pictures. She published “Linda’s Pictures,” and another book whose name escapes me, with photos taken all across the country on the Wings tour. Well, I liked taking pictures too. I was in amazement that one could just take pictures of ordinary things and make them look interesting... and people would like to look at them. Well, you know what’s coming; I thought to myself that anything “Linder” could do, I could do better, and I promptly joined the camera club in high school, even though I did not actually own a “good” camera. Details, details.

They let us use the school cameras, and I took a lot of black and white photos around the campus that we stayed after school to develop and print. I was only semi-interested in the developing part. It seemed like an awful lot of timing, chemicals, and equipment, and I figured someone else could do that part for me in real life. I liked the smell of film, and processing chemicals, though. Maybe that is strange, I dunno, but I still like that smell. It smells like creativity to me. When I am near the photo lab in Wal-Mart or Walgreens, I sniff and smile.

I just daydreamed about a nice 35mm SLR, and just continued to take a few photos with my old Kodak. SLR cameras were, and still are, very expensive. But I asked for one for my high school graduation, anyway. I left photo magazines all over the house, and knew my Mom would ask at the camera store, what might be the best selection. But, I admit I was sorely disappointed with my new Minolta 110 camera that I got for graduation. (my beautiful new luggage saved the day) Well, all Mom heard was a “nice new camera” and that part was correct, but I hated the damn thing for not being a nice, big, heavy SLR. As a matter of fact, I loathed it. I took a lot of photos on my first overseas trip that were X-ray damaged at Kennedy and Heathrow. I blamed it on the camera. I used it for two years, but I hated it. 110 film was so ridiculously small that it bordered on miniscule, and very, very grainy. You practically had to handle the negatives with tweezers so that you could see it through the magnifying glass. But now, all these foggy years later, I absolutely treasure the photos that I took with that despised camera.

Around 1980, Nikon introduced a lower priced beginner’s SLR, The Nikon EM. I later found out it was marketed as a “Lady’s Camera”, which is pretty darn insulting. I guess us ladies were not bright enough to operate both the shutter speed AND the F-stop, because the Nikon EM mainly operated on AUTOMATIC, there were no full manual settings available. Still, I was walking on clouds when I walked out of Halle Brothers Department store with all my electronic goodies, my 35mm SLR finally in hand, and a nice brown leather camera bag to boot. It was literally like PIRATE TREASURE to me. I LOVED it for several years, and took thousands of photographs. I also frequently used a borrowed Canon AE1, which I secretly loved a little more, but alas; it did not truly belong to me.

Back in those days, I was taking a lot of live music photographs, and doing some freelance work for various bands around the Cleveland area. I even parlayed that into a job managing a small photo studio specializing in passport, citizenship, and portrait photos. It wasn’t much of a Big Deal , but it was fun, and I got to play with different kinds of cameras all day, some I had never even seen or heard of. I also became more comfortable photographing people. I had my own style in photographs, and I thought a lot of people could look at a photo and say, “That looks like a Sharon picture.”

Around 1983, I moved up in the Nikon world with a Nikon FM camera, which had full manual capabilities. I went to a LOT of rock concerts and took photos at most of them, and even met quite a few famous musicians. I took nicer photos on all our family outings, photos for several trade magazines and newsletters, … and I am so, so glad that I have all those wonderful memories to look back on. I took photos of some of rock and roll’s giants during that time period, Paul McCartney, Carl Perkins, The Everly Brothers, Dion, Billy Joel… it was a lot of fun. I took some black and white photos of the great Chuck Berry that I still consider to be some of the best photos I have ever taken. Precious Memories.

Around 1990, CANON came out with a camera that featured automatic focusing. Say What? Up until that point, our standard technique had been to have people hold up a finger to enable the friend/photographer to better focus the camera. (People grew weary of that, and sometimes it was the middle finger they held up.) But it worked great. The idea of automatic focus seemed completely foreign to me, but once I tried it, it was like MAGIC. Also, the camera was called THE REBEL, which meant … I had to have it.

I sold my old Nikons and lenses and put the money towards my Rebel.

At that time, The Rebel and other similar cameras were all coming equipped with a moderate zoom lens as standard, instead of the 50mm we were accustomed to. The zoom was magnificent, but also not as much of a quality lens, and not as fast as the 50mm. Shooting in low light situations was impossible without a tripod. It was an even trade; I had taken all the low light photos I needed to. Over the next 17 years or so, I took a gazillion photos and just used a flash if I absolutely had to. I LOVED my Rebel.

The turn of the 21st Century brought with it, the “D” word. Digital. Everyone was talking about digital everything and whatever that was, it was supposed to be better. Digital sound, digital TVs, digital music that you kept in a tiny little box called an Ipod. It was enough to make my Baby Boomer head spin. I did not want to hear about digital, and would block my ears and sing, “La la laaaaaaaaaaaaaa I can’t hear you!” when my husband would try to explain the benefits.

For heaven’s sake!

I didn’t want to be a computer programmer; I just wanted to take photos.
I argued that there was no way on God’s green earth that Digital (said with a sneer) could be better than good old-fashioned FILM. HA! Take That!

But, eventually they got me.

My husband got a little Olympus digital camera (currently still taking photos at over 12,000!), and once I saw the quality, and the editing properties that could be done with a snap of a finger, I was hooked. Lighten, darken, CROP, ... it was nothing short of magic!

I was MORE than disappointed with the FUJI Finepix I started out with. “That Damned Camera”, as it became known, stopped focusing after three months. I returned it to have it fixed three times. Yes, I said three times. Fuji simply refused to acknowledge anything was wrong until the one year warrantee ran out. I HATE FUJI. Then I tried a Kodak, which worked fine, and I was happy with it, but I was still not motivated, or even enjoying photography any longer. I couldn't really see that tiny screen that well, and it just didn't seem comfortable to me. I missed having a heavy SLR in my hands. THAT IS, until I got my Canon Rebel DSLR in fall 2006! I was in love with Photography again!!!

Oh, if only we had this medium 30 years ago. I could have cropped and lightened so many photos that were practically just wasted paper at that time. Now they would be easily fixable! I LOVE my digital camera. I can immediately see if a photograph came out well, and if not, take appropriate measures. I can go through everything I photographed, and decide which photos are better, and print those. Remember rolls and rolls of film, in which there were about 4 really good photos? All gone. No need to develop photos that are only adequate. It really is Magic!

Then a few years ago, a friend of mine in New York introduced me to “Flickr”, a huge online photography sharing site. It has changed my world by meeting other photographers, and other groups of people with like-minded interests. It has become a challenge to post only my better photos, for other to review and comment on. While I have never been one to make many friends online, Flickr has changed that, and I have met many people who have similar hearts. Another nature/animal lover in Massachusetts, another vintage-loving old soul in Nashville, a priest on the Rez in North Dakota…they have all become wonderful facets of my photography and my world. I cannot underestimate the value of the motivation that Flickr has provided. It is a really wonderful community, and I have found my place there.

Camera in hand, I boldly step into my fifth decade, … still snapping away, and ever so glad that Linda had such an attitude that I had to put her in her place.

Monday, April 13, 2009


When I was a child, and the tune by Barbra Streisand was new, my favorite song was “Secondhand Rose.” Every time it came on the radio, I had to turn it up and sing loudly,

“I’m wearing second hand hats,
Second hand clothes,
That's why they call me
Second hand Rose.”

I was obviously easily influenced, and the song was very telling in my future development. It probably embarrassed my Mother, because she was the type to scrimp and save and cut corners in order to buy quality things. But there I was; running around the A&P singing that I was called Second-Hand Rose, ha ha.

My Aunt Anna however, was the type to stop in regularly at the Salvation Army, or Stella Maris store to buy things secondhand. “I got it over at The Sallys,” she would say.

I have since found out that other families also referred to shopping with Cousin Sally, or Aunt Sally, all code names for thrift stores. My Aunt Anna was into altering and remixing long before they had names. She would tote home a lovely dark wood bookcase and slap a coat of bright yellow paint on it. Or use transfer designs on the white wood kitchen chairs, even removing pretty lace edges from sheets or tablecloths and replacing them with a different hem.

The story of my first thrift store find is now legendary in family history. Evidently I was at the Stella Maris store with my Grandma, who had stopped there to visit a friend who worked there. I saw this doll and for some reason, fell in love with it and HAD-TO-HAD TO HAVE IT. My Grandmother said NO, but after seeing my considerable distress, her friend said, “let the kid have it,” and I happily went home with my new friend. Once we arrived home, Dolly had to stay in the doll bed on the back porch and was not allowed inside the house. I can only imagine the look on my Mother’s face when she got home from work and was greeted by what used to be a doll, with patches of blond hair (the rest of it having been torn out), ink splotches all over its face, one eye, and best of all- it’s crotch had been poked out with some sharp implement and was now just a gaping hole. I guess I saw her for what she could be, not what she was.

I played with her happily through the next day. Then through the next night, God, or the Angels, or someone with truly miraculous powers, crept onto the back porch and FIXED all her deformities and abnormalities! POOF! She was now sporting a full head of golden curls, had BOTH her eyes, a pretty blue taffeta dress, the ink tattoos were gone, and …to put it delicately…she was wearing pretty white lace panties over now-uncompromised nether-regions! IT WAS A MIRACLE, and I took it completely as such. It didn’t even occur to me for YEARS that the Angel was my Mom, who had probably stopped at The May Company on the way home from work and picked out a brand new pretty doll for me. I had been given a CHANGELING, and never even suspected!

But that was just the start. “Sharon, what are you going to do with that?” became a very familiar question my family and friends asked me through the years, and indeed; to this very day. The only one who has never said that is my dear husband, who is just as much of a pack rat as I am, and encourages my nuttiness. All he cares about is if it makes me happy, then I should have it. You see, he is a perfect husband.

To this day, I remember my first flea market alone and with my own money in my pocket! I had wandered over to the local YMCA while my parents were grocery shopping, and the Y had a flea market going on the front lawn. It was around 1970, and this adolescent girl gave very careful thought to her purchases, which ALL seemed like incredible treasures to me. I always loved OLD THINGS. I liked thinking that things had a history, and a whole other life that had seen days long gone by. I have always loved days gone by.

Every table was full of riches. Books, magazines, perfume bottles, clothes, trunks, buttons, jewelry, the list goes on. It was like pirate treasure that I was allowed to choose carefully from. I still have my cherished purchases from that day, although some are packed away. They were:

1) A beautiful statue of a lady from the 1930s. She wore a black Jean Harlow evening gown, and her brown painted hair was in finger waves. Despite a broken neck that had been glued, she was stunning to me. I still look at her lovingly.

2) A little silver tray that said NEW YORK CITY on it, and had salt and pepper shakers in the shape of the Empire State Building and The Statue of Liberty.

3) Two 45 rpm records; “River, Stay Away From My Door,” by Frank Sinatra when he was still a band singer, and “Broken Hearted Melody,” by Sarah Vaughan.

4) A magazine with John Kennedy on the cover.

I tend to remember a lot of things, and where I bought them, even if they are no longer in my possession. “Oh, that was at the place where they had the broken wheelchair for sale!”, or, “ I remember that necklace because it was at the house that had all the cats in the window.” Etc.

Now, through the mystic wonder of the Internet, I have found a whole gaggle of people who are like-minded, love trashy treasures, and like talking and blogging about their finds. I sigh in envious disbelief when I read of an e-buddy coming home from Goodwill with a 1970s Gunne Sax dress for only $5.

My treasures don’t really have to be OLD, although that is preferable. I still consider it a treasure if it is a GREAT DEAL. (magic words that, my husband is convinced, turn me on) I wanted one of those chocolate making machines, but they were costly. Then I happened across one, NEVER USED, at a garage sale, and got it for $5! FIVE DOLLARS! Ohmygod, I was practically hyperventilating. A lovely soup mug with a kitty on it for $1. A 1970s silver “spoon” ring for 50 cents, a box of various angels for $3 that I made into a Christmas wreath for a friend. A 1950s cocktail table in great condition for $5 …the lists goes on. However, the space in our apartment does not. But that is another story.

It is April now, and similar to how many people delight in the Christmas season, I thrill with delight in GARAGE SALE AND FLEA MARKET SEASON! From now until September, every garage sale sign posted on a street corner or in someone’s yard tells me that place holds the potential to be a WONDERLAND! I’ll be out meandering up driveways, tote bag and sometimes husband and mother in tow, looking for great deals and magic treasure. If you see me coming, know now that I do not want to see any plastic toys or kid’s clothes, … but if you have a 1959 clock made of dominoes, pink tumbler glasses with those atomic designs on them, or a 16 Magazine with David Cassidy smiling out at me on the cover, it will be MINE, ALL MINE, and No; I do not have have any answer for what I am going to do with it.

Copyright 2009 by Sharon Horodyski