Political Conventions

Our two dominate political parties, Republican and Democrat will soon be holding the 2008 presidential conventions; Democrats will meet August 25-27 in Denver, Colorado, Republicans, September 1-4 in Minneapolis-St Paul, Minnesota. Interest in choosing each party’s representative has been intense and bound to increase thru the election in November. It’s possible that a black man, Barack Obama, may be the first black elected President of the United States.

I am an enthusiastic viewer of televised political conventions. Some of the speeches are boring and too long, but generally speaking, I share the excitement of the delegates when momentous votes and roll calls are taken. My ‘interest’ in politics doesn’t denote an ‘expertise’ in all the whys and wherefores of party policies and platforms, but I try to be learned enough to know when laws and practices go astray of our constitution.

My husband and I lived in Stanford Village when we first registered with a political party. We had to go to Menlo Park to register and on the day we went, there was a long line of student friends and we joined them in waiting. When it came our turn, we were amused when a woman handed us a card and asked us to read it aloud. We knew it was a custom in the south that people of color had to prove they could read in order to vote, but we laughed and assured the woman that we knew how to read, and handed the cards back. The woman insisted, saying it was the law, but after hearing a word or two, she said that was enough. After a short discussion when we mentioned that we would probably vote for the ‘best person’ regardless of party, the woman suggested we register as Independents. We had not anticipated that possibility, but it allowed us to hedge any commitment. We registered as Independents, but by the time we actually had a chance to vote for a president, we had been re- registered as Democrats.

We knew that we would be out of the country during the national election in November because we planned a year abroad immediately after graduation. Consequently, our interest in politics dropped off dramatically when our attentions turned to other matters. We had made arrangements to share driving expenses with a student driving his car to the same Philadelphia area my husband’s family lived, and within hours of the graduation ceremonies, we were on the highway, heading east. My husband, our 2 year son and I would live with my husband’s family until our sailing on Queen Elizabeth in August.

The trip across country was a delightful one. It was enhanced by our friend’s congeniality, euphoria of graduation and anticipation of a year in Paris. We spent long hours in conversation and listening to the car radio. The radio stations faded in and out in strange ways. At times the frequencies from some distant station would be loud and clear while those near the car’s location would drift annoyingly. By chance we tuned into the Republican convention taking place in Philadelphia. When we realized what we were listening to, we made every effort to keep the dial tuned to the coverage until they adjourned.

Our trip ended a few days later. Wrapping up last minute details of our trip kept us busy, but when I learned that it was permissible to attend the Democrat convention, not as a delegate but as a visitor, I jumped at the chance. The convention was held at the Philadelphia Civic Center Convention Hall. There was no seating for anyone but the delegates; it was standing room only in the balcony but I was thrilled to be there. Crowds inside and outside the hall milled around while the balcony crowd stood shoulder to shoulder and pushed against each other to better their view of the doings on the floor below us.

The noise was deafening with band music, whooping and hollering. The delegates waved flags and balloons and wore decorated hats with pins and ribbons. When they perceived a favorable vote or introduction to a speaker, they marched en mass round and round the hall while speakers implored them to be seated. Speakers were rarely heard but loudly applauded. We had an opportunity to mingle with delegates out side the hall before they were called to order and after adjournment. We made a concerted effort to say hello to those representing states we had a claim to, namely, California, Pennsylvania Iowa, and Kentucky. As long as the convention was in session, a circus atmosphere permeated the hall but serious business was accomplished when all was said and done.

It was a wonderful experience to have been a visitor to that convention. The election of 1948 is considered the most historic in our history to date, although this year may out do that one if Obama wins. I’ve followed this year’s primaries with great interest and am looking forward to the coming conventions. I may miss some sleep, but I will definitely be watching TV for as long as events unfold.

Link to Wikipedia Artical about the 1948_Democratic_National_Convention

Vacations

It’s August and ‘vacation’ is the operative word. Congress has gone on vacation. Barack Obama, the democratic candidate for President of the United States, is vacationing in Hawaii. Grade school children are still on summer vacation. Friends have been returning from and/or starting vacations.

As a child I loved ‘going’ on family vacations. Dad always chose the month of October for his annual vacation from his job at the Telephone Company, and as the years passed, his vacation time increased from two weeks to three. We children loved October vacations because we got to miss school and never given homework to make up for the missed classes. We always drove to Kentucky to visit grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. During the year we often visited Mom’s people and they often came to visit us, but we only got to see Dad’s people during his vacation.

Dad’s vacations started on Mondays, but on the preceding Friday, when the office closed for the weekend, Mom and we children would be ready to travel to Kentucky when Dad left work at 5 o’clock sharp. At the time I was unaware of it but in looking back, it was a miracle the way Mom always had things organized to the ‘nth’ degree. There were eight of us children and Mom had to supervise all the preparations for the trip. Adeline and I helped to some degree, but Mom actually did most of the work. She made certain all the clothes needed for each of us for three weeks were clean, ironed and packed. On the day of departure, just making sure that each child was bathed was a huge chore by itself.

We did not have running water or inside plumbing on the asparagus farm. We had an outdoor privy that we referred to as the ‘outhouse’. We had well water with the pump a few feet from the kitchen door, but water had to be carried into the house for cooking and cleaning. Two big water reservoirs on the iron cook stove heated the water and a large tea kettle was always kept full and heating on top of the stove. A pail of drinking water and a long handled dipper was kept on a counter by the sink which had a drain, but no faucets.

We bathed in the kitchen which gave some privacy to the older persons. We took baths in a round galvanized tub that was also used to launder clothes. Hot water was cooled to the right bathing temperature by adding pails of cold water. The younger ones shared the same bath water by taking turns, but the tub had to be emptied and fresh water prepared for each of the remaining baths. We older ones had to sit in the water with our knees bent and we tried not to splash water on the floor. It took two people to empty the tub and by the time everyone finished bathing, the floor around the tub was wet with soap suds and had to be mopped.

On the Fridays our vacation trips began, Mom would drive Dad back to the office after lunch so she could keep the car. The boys, Jr. (later known as Mickey), Charles and Elbert had to vacuum the interior of the Terra Plane Hudson and wash the windshields and windows. Adeline and I helped Mom bathe and dress the little ones, Esther, Dick and Jerry. One by one we older ones bathed and dressed, then we all had to help keep the little ones from getting dirty while Mom finally got to take her bath and dress.

Our suitcases were loaded in the trunk of the car along with the jars of honey from our bee hives that would be given as presents. When it was time to pick up Dad, we climbed in the car and off we went. After Mom turned the steering wheel over to Dad, minor shuffling of seats took place and at that moment, we kids became captives of a ‘vacation excitement’ that lasted the full 3 weeks of Dad’s vacation.

Memories of those days are a tonic when Esther and I reminisce about our southern vacations and life on the asparagus farm. Living in the Corn Belt was so different from that of our cousins living in the tobacco belt. Their southern drawl in conversation was a music we only heard on those vacations. To visit Dad’s relatives, we had to drive the back roads and mountains of Kentucky, Tennessee and the Virginias.

I’ve had wonderful vacations, but the best and most memorable one was in Acapulco many years ago. My daughter, Kim and I planned the three day sightseeing trip as a diversion from work, but we spent most of the three days sleeping. We ended up reading and napping during the day, eating all our meals in the hotel dining room, and swimming in the hotel pool after dark. We had morning naps as well as afternoon naps. We did take a drive along the beach once but decided to return to the hotel for another nap. It’s the only vacation I’ve ever had where I really felt rested when it was over.

As Girl Scouts, Adeline and I spent lots of time camping and I have enjoyed many camping vacations over the years. I like camping and have been good at it. I have camped mountains, deserts and beaches. I’ve camped in France, Italy, Mexico and Canada. Of course I’ve camped in many of our American states. I’ve camped with tents and without tents. I know how to rough it. I know how to bake beans in a hole with hot rocks covered over with dirt and how to cook over a bon fire.

It was easy to camp when I had the Corvair van. Kim and I used to invite cousins Donna and Loretta to join us when we camped at the Long Beach pier. We could watch the huge ships as they sailed pass the cement parking area. We used the pier’s public rest rooms and ate at the all night café when ever we felt like walking to it.

One never gets too old for vacations but I no longer ‘rough it’ on camping vacations. Now, I vacation ‘in place’ when the Baton Rouge gang comes to Houston. They vacation ‘away’ from home, and I join them in seeing the usual vacation tourist spots and eating at the trendy restaurants. Nothing compares to having all the creature comforts when on vacation.

Electronic Medicine

How times have changed the way hospitals are run these days compared to way they were when I went to the hospital to have my children in 1946 and 1952. I was in St Luke’s hospital here in Houston a few days ago for a stress test and discovered an electronic world.

St Luke’s is the hospital that had the lower floors flooded when Allison stalled over the city and poured rain for 8 days. As I was wheeled thru the building, I was astonished at the renovation. The building looked brand new. I had seen the TV pictures of the flood damage and read about the destruction Allison caused but currently there isn’t a hint of such flood having taken place.

Humans carry, push, and roll the electronic gadgets and monitors from place to place and from room to room. As for the cameras and other electronic machines that have to remain stationary, patients are pushed, carried and rolled to them.

When vital statistics are required, patients are connected to the various electronic machines by cords which are attached to the body by adhesive snaps and suction cups and the data is determined electronically.

I had wheel chair rides to and from various departments and some of my ‘pushers’ were race drivers. What fun speeding down long, long empty corridors and turning corners to race in another direction. My room was on the 9th floor but the elevators only served a few floors. We had to go long distances to the opposite side of the hospital to get another elevator which would take us to the floor for my tests.

Years ago one always knew doctors and nurses by what they wore. Doctors wore white coats and nurses wore uniforms and caps that had a code of colored stripes to distinguish RNs from Practical nurses. Now everyone dresses alike. I couldn’t tell who was a doctor and who was a technician. I was never certain if a doctor was describing a procedure or a technician was. Male nurses seemed to outnumber female nurses and I lost my modesty in a hurry when I had to get ‘hooked’ and ‘unhooked’ to another monitor or camera.

It’s really a marvelous thing to have a camera take photos of one’s heart from different angles while all one has to do is lay still and breathe normally for 21 minutes. Then I walked the treadmill to get my heart rate up high enough to please the technician. Since I had noticed an audience of about a dozen people watching me walk the treadmill, I naturally had to do my best walking. No way was I going to fail that test!!! Then it was back to the camera and normal breathing again for another 21 minutes.

I’m happy to say my stress test indicated all was well and when it came time to be discharged I was given pages and pages of printout describing everything in detail. All the pokes and prods and the time of each had been recorded, analysed and preserved for posterity

Now that I'm home, I am re-attached to all my own gadgets: My Laptop, the Internet, the International Chess Server, my Voice Activated Cell Phone and I've trained my Digital Camera on Miss Mimi, who doesn't seem to mind the attention at all.