Julie Young Freelance
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Hey Everyone,
With everyone reminiscing about the WTTV-4 children’s hosts, I got to thinking about my own experience with Peggy Nicholson of the Peggy and Popeye show. Peggy isn’t as well-remembered as Cowboy Bob and Janie, but there was something about the little bundle of energy that had a tendency to say “Grab a button” instead of have a seat to the kids who appeared on her show in the afternoons.
I was a Peggy fan. I remember when my cousins Robin and Shelly got to be on the show and watching them say their names on camera. *Sigh* I thought they were famous. It just goes to show you how small our worlds were back when there were only a handful of channels and a Nickelodeon was merely a piece of antiquity.
Still, I had a chance to meet Peggy (now known as Peggy Powis) when I was quite young over Labor Day Weekend during the Jerry Lewis Telethon. This was when the whole city seemed to get involved in the event and special guests made appearances downtown at the Hyatt where the local affiliate’s “hub” was. (I was so naive, I actually thought Jerry Lewis himself was inside the hotel! Apparently the “stars” didn’t get any brighter than our local news anchors.)
My parents heard that Peggy was going to be down there as well as Ronald McDonald! Well, to a pint-sized little girl who was too young to demand her MTV yet, this was as big as it got! So we all trekked down to take part in the festivities, donate some money and see the local and famous up close.
I do remember that day a little bit. I took my Ronald McDonald doll that my friend Steve Bennett had given me and I remember the sun shining very brightly. What I don’t remember is the story my mother later told anyone who would listen. Apparently, as we went up to see Peggy and Ronald, Peggy looked over my head at my mother and mouthed, “What’s her name?” My mom told her and with unmatched enthusiasm, Peggy cried, “Julie! You finally made it! We have been waiting all day to see you!” She got Ronald’s attention and let him know that I was finally there and he too made it seem like we were long lost friends and he couldn’t live without my presence. (Yes folks, this explains my later sense of self-importance…I personally blame outside influences that were beyond my control at the time.)
Well…you can imagine what that was like for a little three-year-old. Of course Peggy knew me! How could she not? I watched her show everyday, and Ronald…well, me and that clown go wayyyyy back to my first plain hamburger and small fries. And to think they had waited all day for little old me! Ronald signed my doll and I had it for years. Eventually Peggy’s show ended and she moved on to Channel-13’s Peggy and the Vantastics. I knew that show was a big deal when it was endorsed by the Indiana Education Association. Although I knew it was a local show, by that point, Peggy seemed to be a legend to me. I remember writing to her a couple of times and she wrote me back. It wasn’t a form letter but a pen and ink type of letter where she talked about the things I had said in my letter. I have never forgotten that and I often think of her taking the time out of her schedule when I answer mail from my readers. A personal touch makes all the difference.
The last time I heard from Peggy was in 198-something…she had a new show in the works, Peggy’s 59er Diner. She sent me a postcard to let me know about it. (I have often wondered if she sent those postcards to everyone who ever wrote her and if she had a clue how old some of them must have been at the time.) I was about 12 or 13 and getting a little too old for cartoon shows, still I think I tuned in once or twice and saw her familiar friendly face introducing cartoons and talking to puppets as though they were old friends.
While I never met Janie, I fondly remember meeting Cowboy Bob and petting his dog Tumbleweed. I ran across Sammy Terry from time to time in the music store (though I didn’t know it was him at the time or I would have been all over that!) Still, Peggy is a standout because she had that personal touch about her and it remained during her tenure as a children’s TV host. I’ll never forget her.
So until next time, grab a button, stay tuned and Keep Rockin’,
Julie
So I was flipping through the channels the other day while working on a project and I happened by an episode of Dr. Phil where he was asking the question “What’s wrong with people?” He cited any number of cases in which he felt the “system” broke down and failed individuals. I now know why I don’t watch that show. Is he only now catching on to this? One of the incidents he talked about was a case of a young girl getting beat up in a bus depot while security guards looked on and did nothing to help the young lady.
The security company said that it was their policy not to have armed guards and that they are not allowed to get involved in physical attacks. Dr. Phil said, “Then what are you securing?” I asked the same thing several years ago when I was working at a local hospital.
I arrived at work one morning around 5 a.m. As I approached the back door to my office, I noticed the golf cart that we used to retreive files from storage was parked in a different place than it normally was. I also caught sight of a sign that was taped to the door…”Do not let the possum in with you!” it read. I turned around and saw the little critter cowering in the corner under the light, hissing at me. Knowing possums were nocturnal creatures and that it seemed to be sick since it was in that close of proimity to humans, I was concerned. I walked into the office and asked my co-workers about it and they said, “He’s been there for a while now and security won’t do anything.”
“What do you mean they won’t do anything?” I asked. “You mean they expect us to operate around that thing forever or until it dies?”
One of my co-workers looked at me and nodded. “They say they can’t do anything about it.”
This made no sense to me. These goons had guns. What was so hard about that? You have a gun, we have a possible rabid animal. You do the math! Cheesed as the lack of safety in dealing with a sick possum on our hands, I walked around to the security office and asked what they planned to do about the animal.
“We can’t do anything about it!” the security guard said to me.
“You have a gun,” I pointed out.
He shook his head. “I understand that but we are in a hospital zone and we can’t disturb the peace.”
This gave me a warm glow. It was good to know that the number of times I had seen an inmate in that hospital handcuffed to a wheelchair, in the event they ever tried to get away, there was nothing safety and security could do to stop them without disturbing the peace. Still, I tried to reason with him. “So what are we supposed to do?” I wanted to know.
“We can’t do anything until we can wake the game warden,” he answered.
The Game Warden??? Are you kidding me? “What about chasing it away with a stick?” I suggested.
“Don’t be silly,” he told me. “That thing could have rabies!”
Somehow I wasn’t feeling any better about the situation. Not only would this guy not shoot the sucker, he wouldn’t go anywhere near it for fear it would attack. However, it was perfectly OK for us to walk by it 40 times looking for files. “Uh-huh,” I said, thoroughly confused. “So despite the fact that you are safety and security, you can do nothing about the fact that we are niether safe nor secure?”
“That’s correct,” he said, failing to note the sarcasm.
Luckily, my desk and duties meant that I did not have to deal with the possum but I felt badly for the ladies who did. In the end, apparently the game warden wasn’t too interested in the creature and by 9:30 a.m., some poor security guard was dispatched to chase it off with a stick and a box looking a lot like Barney Fife.
What is wrong with people, indeed. At any rate, I have learned that if you are at a hosptial and there is a sick possum on the loose, you are on your own.
Keep Rockin’
Julie
Hey Everyone,
According to Amazon.com my new book, A Brief History of Shelby County will be hitting the shelves on March 3. I am really excited about this title and I am sure there will be some promotional dates coming up. Of course this will be the best place to be notified or you can catch updates on Facebook of course. The price of the book is $19.99 and it includes 85 photos and a lot of fun historical information about Shelby County. If you have ever eaten at the Kopper Kettle, Blue Bird or hung out at Indiana Downs and Indiana Live! this will be a must have for your bookshelf. If you want to order the book through me, let me know and I will make sure you have a personalized copy as soon as possible. My home page should have a photo of the cover soon and I still do have a few copies of Eastside Indianapolis for sale if anyone hasn’t gotten it yet. (That almost seems impossible considering how many I signed for Christmas gifts!)
Well everyone have a great week, stay warm and as always….
Keep Rockin’
Julie
So I was planning a quiet evening at home with Lori’s book, (yes, I swear I am working on it but big chunks of time are hard to come by) and actually enjoying the room I call a library now that I have a chair and lamp in there when I got slammed with sports. There was this crazy aura of “game time” in the air and apparently, the higher ups felt that I needed to be a part of it.
It sort of started at TGIFriday’s…ironically on Friday when I was watching women’s curling along with three fabulous people who I didn’t know but got friendly with quickly. Anyone who comes into a bar, buses their own table and takes pride in telling the server that the last people weren’t too generous with their tip…you just know they are going to be fun. I still don’t get curling but the Swedes beat out Canada and were advancing to the medal round. (I still say it looks like Bocce on ice.)
Then apparently, the Bulls were coming to Conseco and seeing the Bulls in Indy is a heck of a lot cheaper than seeing them in Chicago so I had some friends who were commuting to catch the game and evidently bringing a cold front with them. After discussing game gear and Bulls signs, I thought I was done…until I mentioned to my son, the other Wonder Twin that our friends were coming to the game. “Aww man, I was gonna go to that game. If I would have known, I would have popped for the cheap seats and we would have gone, Mom.” Sweet gesture, but you all know me, I told him to save his money.
So I was content to sit at home and check out the bronze medal hockey game and freestyle snowboarding (can’t help it, I kinda think Shaun White is cute…must be the hair.) When out of nowhere, Jack, whom I have known since God was a boy called me up and said he had two tickets to the Bulls game and he knew my son was a big Bulls fan. Did we want them?
Do you ever get the feeling like you are supposed to be somewhere even if you had no intention of going? I walked out to where my son was playing XBox and said “I swear on all that is holy, Jack just offered us two tickets to the game.” Once we got done marveling over the irony, then the boy was all about DA BULLS! Look, I won’t pretend that I am a basketball fan, but I am a huge fan of my son and we haven’t had a night out together in forever, so heck yeah, I was going! the seats were in the rafters, but who cared? At least I got a workout in on that hike and while we were up there we noticed that our friend and Pacer scorekeeper, Bill Bevan was at courtside. We marveled at having such an “inside” connection to the club. The Ace made a point of changing my Facebook status to “Mr. Bevan, I SEE you.” I casually mentioned that after covering sports and having the opportunity to sit at that little table where they bring you the stats at the quarter breaks and you have access to the to-die-for press room….sitting anywhere else just isn’t the same. My son called me a snob and I told him he was just jealous he’d never gotten to partake of the finger food, free drinks and wireless connection in the press room. (Yes, this is what we consider having a good time….punking on one another.)
At halftime, we were determined to say hello to our friends on the concourse level. While I stood in a line that backed up to Cleveland for a drink, my son got very nervous that the sweet little grandmotherly security guard wouldn’t let him down there. (I had already buttered her up and she was very accomodating,) but my son decided it would seem stalkerish to…how did he put it? Bend the rules. Yeah…OK…remember THAT the next time you need an entrance letter to college/grad school, need me to fill out a FAFSA or merely be a bridge to Michael Jordan or the leader of two BILLION Catholics. The “rules” didn’t seem to matter then! ha ha. He even went so far as to tell me “but I’m just a kid!” REALLY???? Well I am liking this deal, sad to say people, my oldest son may be months away from being able to drink legally, but apparently he’s ready for a curfew to be reimposed on his life. God, he is a goofball sometimes.
After the game, we made a break for the concourse and told one of the security guards to let us through because we had a friend at courtside. On the count of three we started hollering for Mr. Bevan and I have to say, the other score keeper guys were very jealous that he had a couple of groupies in attendance. Actually, for those who do not know who I am referring to, Bill Bevan is a wonderful man who means a lot to anyone who went to Scecina and he has enjoyed a very long run with the Pacer organization. We just love him to pieces and it was great to see him!
So all in all it was a “wonderful” night for Zan and J (despite the blisters on my feet from the mistaken notion that high-heeled suede boots were a great choice) and hopefully it won’t be so long before we hang out again. Until next time, remember to “activate” and keep rockin’
Julie
I remember a time in my life when I wanted to be a teacher. I don’t know if I was mesmerized by the idea of having a book with all of the answers in it or if I thought I would become privy to that magic code that could be used to cancel school for the day. I also had a fleeting desire to see exactly what went on in the teacher’s lounge. My school’s faculty break room had a divider right inside the door so even if a student happened passed, they couldn’t actually see what was going on in there. One day, I do remember having to deliver a note to someone who was reportedly in the teacher’s lounge and I spotted several esteemed faculty members smoking cigarettes and drinking caffinated beverages. I left with the knowledge that the teacher’s lounge was not unlike the VIP room of Studio 54.
But I digress. Eventually the desire to be an educator left me, but I am more curious than ever as to why men and women still flock to the education field armed with the determination to mold young hearts and shape little minds.
My first thought is that many of these teachers were touched in some way by teachers they once had. I can understand that. If I really gave it some thought, I could offer a running list of things I learned from each of my teachers. Among the most memorable: Don’t attempt to throw a wad of paper in Miss Dalton’s wastepaper basket from your desk unless you want to become proficient at it; Never leave a grade book lying around, especially if you name is Mr. Asher, Always project your voice (thank you Mrs. Slaton) and PP on a musical staff does not stand for “plenty powerful.”
I assume memories like that are very strong and I suspect plenty of teachers go into the field hoping to make the kind of difference that is remembered many years from now. I find that nobel, but when I see what teachers have to contend with on a daily basis, you have to wonder if majoring in canibalism wouldn’t have been an easier route. Teaching, in my opinion is without a doubt, the toughest and most underappreciated (and underpaid) jobs on the planet. You have to love these battle weary crusaders who go into the trenches everyday hoping that somehow in that sea of blank faces there is someone you are leaving an imprint on.
Many people say it’s the public school system. It’s crowded. It’s dysfunctional. The teachers don’t care. I’m not sure I buy that anymore. Not since the day a child came up to me in a private academy and proudly announced that this was a particular teacher’s “Worst Class of the Day.” I mean, who sits around wanting THAT kind of distinction? In every school, in every state, and I would wager in every nation, there are parents who don’t care, kids who don’t care and as a result teachers who have given up on caring. And yet, men and women flock to this profession like it’s manna in the desert. Not too long ago, I was part of a class where the kids were incapable of simple multiplication and became so frustrated that one of the other teachers suggested I just “give them the answers” in order to make sure they had the correct information from which to study. Is it just me or does it seem like a fundamental step was skipped?
There are hundreds of examples I could go into, but I won’t because I believe in protecting the privacy of those involved (even if I do skew the facts in order to protect both the guilty and the innocent). Still, I can’t help but wonder what has happened to the educational system and where do we get off blaming the teachers? Kids may have a right to a free education, but I don’t think that means a free ride and I think it is henious to hold the educators accountable when they have put in the time and the money to teach your child, NOT raise him or her.
Are there poor teachers in the world? I’m sure of it, but I am also sure that some teachers are dead in the water before they get started. Imagine walking into a classroom for the first time and hearing a bunch of spoiled hooligans tell you that they have gotten teachers fired before, and they can do it again. Now, if I had a mortgage and (more than likely) outstanding student loans….I just might get a little defensive at that kind of statement. At the very least, it would put me on edge. I shake my head at the number of parents who walk into a parent/teacher conference defiant and ready to do battle with someone whose job is to prepare your kid for a world that isn’t going to make sure everybody wins, will not feel bad for hurting their feelings and where life simply isn’t fair. Who’s doing the child the bigger disservice? My guess is that it is the parent for believing that the world works like Burger King where you really can have it your way!
I remember the days when there were no standards and no ISTEP. Those good old days when mom and dad couldn’t look up your grades online, when parent/teacher conferences were optional and it was up to the PARENT to request them. I remember those days gone by when children were expected to behave and not allowed to hide behind a myriad of medical hyperbole that justifies their lack of effort and forces teachers to overcompensate. No wonder these people look so drained at the end of the day.
Ugh! Well enough of this rant for one day…I just wanted to shout to the teachers out there and let them know that I appreciate the thankless job they do everyday inspite of what goes on around them. Hang in there and keep rockin’.
Julie
I miss Nickelodeon…not that channel that seems obsessed with a square sponge or that runs epic marathons of old TV shows at night (Really? Does anyone need that much Fresh Prince of Bel-Air in their lives?) but the “classic” Nickelodeon when cable was new and 24-hour programming was limited.
A few months ago, my oldest took a fun “What classic Nickelodeon character are you?” quiz on Facebook. His result was Doug. This was just wrong on so many levels, where do I begin? First of all, Doug is so far from being a classic Nick show that it isn’t even funny. This goes double for Hey Arnold, The Rugrats and the Wild Thornberrys. Secondly, classic Nick shows were not cartoons at all!
Let’s get real people….once and for all, let us define the classic Nickelodeon show: It must have been viewed during the 1980’s, came from Canada (an awful lot of those early shows did), and had questionable acting talent. Qualifying shows are: Pinwheel (a Sesame Street-eque show that was on for four hours straight!), Today’s Special, Kid’s Writes, The Third Eye, The Tomorrow People, Livewire, and….(pause for moment of homage)….You Can’t Do that on Television. (Personally, I think it is a crime that today’s kid does not know where the “slime” originated from.) A special honorable mention should go out to Double Dare as I do believe that was Nick’s first original game show.
You Tube is full of “classic” Nick tributes, but you have to do some hunting to find the real gems that most kids don’t remember. There seems to be a seperation between “Old School Nickelodeon” and the “Golden Age of Nickelodeon” but the heck if I know what it is. I know it isn’t Dora the Explorer or I Carly, that’s for sure.
I do remember a time when Nick was so new that they didn’t have any programming at all after 8 p.m. and when I would turn the TV on, there would be just some jazz ensemble playing. I guess the station lost its target audience to prime time TV after that. Personally, I was a huge fan of You Can’t Do that on Television. I have always loved sketch comedy and I thought the Laugh-in take off was perfect for the pre-teen crowd. Aslo, I confess to having my first real boy/girl thing over Kevin Kubusheskie. I wrote Nickelodeon several times hoping to get to that poor guy….I do remember them sending me a cast picture and some bio information on him which of course made me feel as though I held the inside track to his life. (BTW, hope your two sisters are well Kevin!) Alas, the last picture I saw of him was at some Nickelodeon reunion thing and all of his longish-blond/brown hair was gone…sigh.
My son can argue with me until he is blue in the face over the best era of Nickelodeon, but I maintain I have him beat by a mile. Of course I also remember when MTV was heavy on the “M” too. Where do the good ole days go? I just do…not…know….
Keep Rockin until next time and watch out for the slime!
Julie
Hey Everyone,
I woke up this morning to read the paper and as I was cruising through my favorite sections, for the first time…I realized how much I seriously miss Erma Bombeck. I don’t know how many of my readers ever took note of her “At Wits End” column or the number of books she wrote, but that woman had a way of allowing us to poke a little bit of fun at ourselves and find the humor in the mundane. She often said if she ever won any awards for her work, she would put the accolades in her laundry room. “After all, that’s where I earned them,” she explained.
I think lately it has been hard to laugh at the everyday stuff because the everyday things seems more dire than they did before. It’s tough to find humor in laundry when you have to worry about using a high efficiency appliance and make sure to do a full load so that you get the most out of the energy you are using. Erma found a number of things to chuckle about when it came to cooking. I remember one section of her book where she was returning from the grocery shopping to find her husband fascinated with a woman named “Martha” on the television who was explaining how to cook a turkey dinner using 12 ingredients no one ever heard of before. Erma didn’t worry about a lack of trans fats in her diet or whether the food she bought was organically grown…in her harried and underappreciated world, her family was lucky to eat! Now you flip on the television and there is some guy talking about artifically enhanced chickens and making responsible food choices “even though it costs a little extra.”
Come on dude! Don’t get me wrong, I appreicate the issue as much as the next guy, but what would Erma do, I ask you? If her budget was tight, she would buy the cheaper chicken and live with the consequences. The average middle class family is struggling right now and while we would LOVE to take a stand on a variety of issues…we don’t have a leg to stand on. We are worrying about pensions that aren’t there, funding our own retirement, figuring out how to feed a family on a diminishing income, giving up our favorite brands in order to buy generic and stretch that dollar a little further…Oh, and let’s discuss the letter I received the other day telling me my healthcare is going up another $100 a month. I have a feeling Erma would sympathize with my plight.
Oh Erma, I wish you were here to offer your clever retorts to the status quo or just give me a laugh to start my day. Despite being a successful writer, you lived in the trenches day in and day out and we loved you for your slightly skewed look at our work-a-day lives. You were laugh out loud funny and now, when we flip through the daily edition, there’s not a lot to look forward to in the lifestyle section. Back in the day, we all knew as we read through the horrifying and dismal, at least Erma was near the back ready to offer a repreive from all of that. Now all we have is the TV listings. It’s just not the same.
I sure do miss you, Erma.
Until next time, Keep Rockin’
Julie
Hey Everyone,
I suppose every family has one: that little ball of fire that forces more mundane souls to scratch their heads in confusion and wonder how that child makes it through the day without hurting himself. We have one like that around here. Though he is small in stature and it sometimes appears that a good stiff wind could blow him off to Oz, my youngest child is a force to be reckoned with. Let’s face it, he wears his feelings on his chest….literally. He has a shirt for every occasion. There is the “Small but Mighty” one that was purchased by my mother, the “Blame my Brother” shirt that I picked up for him simply because I too am a member of the Little Sibling Society and believe that all older brothers have a tendency to be annoying. He also possesses a myriad of other sayings: “I tried to be good once, but I got bored”, “No questions, just put the candy in the bag” (appropriate for Halloween as well as any other day of the year apparently.), “My mouth has a mind of its own” and for formal occasions, a blue shirt imprinted with a necktie that tells the world “This IS my dress shirt.”
No doubt about it, the boy has a way of expressing himself. Aside from casual sportswear, his flamboyancy extends to his vocabulary as well. As a three-year-old I remember him asking me if I was having a good time playing Candyland. I sarcastically replied “oh, oodles” to which he promptly skewed and replied “I like noodles too!” Now, everytime he asks me if I am having fun, I can’t help answering “yes, noodles!” “Octopus” became “Opitis” and due to an inability to pronounce one of his little friend’s last name…he immediately renamed the boy “Cracker Barrel” rather than try to learn it the correct way. Lucky for him, the kid was open to a legal name change.
At one point, the child told me he wanted to grow up to tell jokes in front of an audience one day. “Mom, I am going to be a Communist!” he declared. He seemed so thrilled with his choice of career that it took me a solid 30 minutes to convince Boy Wonder that he really wanted to be a “commedian” not a Communist. While having lunch with his grandmother one afternoon, he saw her lay the tip on the table and shouted “I yell bibs!” We offered up confused expressions until we figured out the kid wanted to “call dibs” on the money.
One would assume that time would cure this kid of his need to express himself in such an outlandish way, but it hasn’t. Just this week he came up to me, concerned about his weight and his resemblance to a stick figure. “Mom, my friends are always telling me I am too skinny…maybe I am alphabetic.” I can’t help wondering if that condition is caused by eating too many Alpha-Bits and if not caught early, could turn into a more ”cereal” condition…Alphanumeric…which, as we all know, can be brought on by massive consumption of Campbell’s “ABC’s and 123’s.”
I assured the boy that he was not alphabetic (which would require getting the letters right!) nor, was he anorexic…just long and thin. (It’ll catch up with him when he is 40.) Still as he walked out of the room in his happy-go-lucky manner, it occured to me that everytime he comes up with a new term, I don’t need a dictionary to figure it out. I’m not sure that fluency in “Boy Wonder-isms” is a good thing.
Until next week….Keep Rockin’
Julie
Hey Everyone,
I am so glad we have experienced a warm up of sorts here in the Circle City. Since the weather was up to about 40 degrees yesterday, I want to take the opportunity to invite everyone over to enjoy the new indoor pool that has been installed in my basement. Mind you, I wasn’t planning to install a water feature in my basement, but apparently while I was asleep, the fair contractors came in and decided that would be a great spot for some water! UGH!
Ok, so the truth is, I went down for my morning run and saw water everywhere. The weird thing is that I can’t figure out where it is coming from. None of the obvious places seem to be the culprit. The hot water heater is fine, in fact, the water isn’t even around that apparatus, the sump pump is working just fine and the water isn’t coming from there….the water is actually situated right under the furnace which as anyone can tell you makes no scientific sense whatsoever. An appliance ran by flame should, by its very nature evaporate water, not cause it to appear. (I’ll take WTF? for $100 Alex)
It is the perfect cap off to a week that has been full of those Murphy’s law moments we all hate. Oh, I know it could be worse…I see what’s going on in Hati and my heart cries for those people. I realize they have real trouble, losing loved ones and struggling to survive after something REALLY devastating…kind of puts a waterlogged basement into perspective.
Tomorrow, I will be appearing at Barnes & Noble on 82nd Street at Clearwater Crossing for a local author event. I am pretty excited about this, thought I am not sure if I am more excited about greeting my fans or getting to spend several hours in a bookstore! Something tells me I am going to wind up a lot poorer by the time I leave there. LOL If anyone hasn’t gotten their copy of Eastside Indianapolis, come on out and say hello. I’ll be glad to sign any of my books for you and I look forward to seeing everyone soon for the launch of Shelby County: A Brief History which will be coming out very, very soon!
Until next time…stay dry and Keep Rockin’
Julie
Hey Everyone,
I am convinced that the thrill of snow days ends somewhere around the year that a person gets their driver’s license and realizes they have to clean off their car and actually drive in the slop! I remember anxiously sitting next to the radio listening to hear if my school would be closed. Considering I went to a Catholic school there was a lot of confusion over what exactly were were supposed to be listening for. During at least part of my grade school years, the school was listed under “all east deanery Catholic schools” and at other times, we would hear just the name read off. Parents knew there was an “umbrella” moniker used for our school and there was quite a bit of phoning back and forth among the car pool people to determine if it was “All Saints” or “Central Catholic” or what meant we weren’t going to school that day. At one time I remember car pooling with a woman who was a kindergarten teacher at my school and there was a certain thrill when she would call my mother the evening before to tell her that school was cancelled due to snow. I felt as though I had insider information and didn’t have to deal with the headache of waking up early to listen to the radio and could just enjoy a lazy day at home with nothing to do but sled down my driveway and watch TV. (Or of course, finish the homework I put off the night before.)
I began to hate the snow when it impeded my travel plans. If the white powder was going to prevent me from going to the mall or the movies or from seeing my boyfriend, then I would rather live in Florida. Snow was fine when I had nothing to do, but if it was going to get in the way of my agenda…I could live without it. Today…I am fine with snow on Christmas and I don’t mind it when it doesn’t really stick to the main roads. I still enjoy sledding, but when I am done-I am really OK with turning off the snow machine. Besides…it’s just too COLD. Perhaps I am part snake or something, but the older I get, the more cold natured I am. Maybe I would like snow a lot more in the summer.
There is not a whole lot going on around the office this week. I am finishing up the final edits on “Shelby County, IN: A Brief History” and working on a script on Green Jobs for JIST Publishing. I am really excited about this project in addition to my other freelance assignments. Yesterday I got to take a trip to the World Skating Academy down at Pan Am Plaza to photograph George Ann Griffin Atkinson. She is a senior figure skater and coach and just a delight to work with. You can read more about her in the February edition of Senior Life Newspaper. (Incidentally…the WSA is a great facility, but once again-a very cold venue!)
That’s all the news from here for now…hopefully I will be better at blogging this year and can keep everyone up to date in a more timely fashion…take care and as always…
Keep Rockin’
Julie
I guess I hadn’t thought about it too much until the newspaper started running the top news stories that an entire decade has come and gone. At times it has felt like Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, going by faster than I could have imagined and at other times it seems impossible that I packed everything I have done in just ten short years.
Tonight marks the 10-year anniversary that my sons and I put together a time caspule for the Millenium, not to be opened until 2015. We chose that year because one of them will be 25 and the other will be 18. I do remember some of the items that are inside the pink Victoria Secret box that we used, solely due to its color and our ability to identify it quickly. It has a black ribbon around it and a piece of paper taped to the front admonishing anyone not to open the box or peek into its contents. Of course last summer, while cleaning out our shed, the box fell from its perch and partially opened. I was good and didn’t peek as I shifted things around and secured the lid once again.
At the close of 1999, I knew I was on my way to something special, though I had no idea what it might be. That was the year I met Nancy Wilson of Heart and I knew if I could make that dream come true, then there was nothing to stop me from doing anything and being anything I wanted to be. Ten years later, I can’t believe what all has happened. I was on Oprah. I won poetry contests. I went back to school AND completed my education. I taught at Scecina. I got my high school diploma. I went from working in data entry to owning my own business AND becoming a published author three times over. Our sense of security was forever altered on Sept. 11, 2001 and economically, nothing has seemed stable since. I traveled to Rome and met the Pope, have hung out with rock stars, moved into a new home and once again hit the stage. It has been an amazing ride, no doubt about it.
At the beginning of the decade, my oldest son wasn’t out of grade school, and now here he is, looking to finish up his own college career and the youngest is no longer a baby, but a teenager getting ready to face high school and a life full of uniqque challenges. I know all parents say this, but my boys are truly the most special people I have ever met and I never could have imagined that I could love any two people as much as I love them. No matter what I do, they will always be the accomplishments of which I am the most proud. As I tell them time and time again: they are my two best inventions, my biggest influences and I hope to be just like them when I grow up.
Of course, when I think back on the past ten years, I can’t help but think about my mother. When the millenium started, she was relatively healthy and not long into the 2000’s, she developed Leukemia and of course a year and a half ago, she died. What a strange turn of events. I suppose we always think our parents will be there, especially our mothers because they have been the constant in our lives before we were even born, but it is wierd when the day finally comes and you no longer have her. The person that you loved and fought with is no longer there and in some ways, you feel like a lost child. I hear it gets easier as the years go by, but as of this post, the pain is still sharp.
A lot of people I know do not make New Year’s Resolutions. I used to joke that I made them, only to give them up for Lent six weeks later. Now, I think the New Year provides us with an opportunity to take a self-inventory and see where we are at and more importantly where we want to be. Tomorrow, I will be filling out an index card with my goals and ambitions for the coming year. I doubt all of them will happen, but I want to have plenty to shoot for. Some people will tell you when you make New Year’s Resolutions, you shouldn’t set your sights too high…I say to heck with that. Write down what you really want and the steps you will take to get yourself there…remember even if you miss while shooting for the moon, you’ll still land among the stars. And that my friends…isn’t a bad place to be!
Until Next Time…Keep Rockin’
Julie
Hey Everyone,
So I have to keep reminding myself I haven’t moved to Neptune…just New Palestine. It is so weird how moving always makes you feel crazy. I feel like once I figure out how to function, I will be fine…but it will probably take a while. In the meantime I am down with the flu and feeling like I am scared to do anything…maybe it’s the sickness talking. I have my Internet connection and have hung my pictureof me and Gene Simmons…surely within a couple of days, it will all start to feel like home. For those of you who need my new address and phone number, my contact information is:
Julie Young
2347 S. Woodgrove Way
New Palestine, IN 46163
317-861-7236
I have my desk and computer in my new office/classroom…the view is really something. I am looking out on all og these gogeous trees across the street and I feel a bit like Carrie Bradshaw writing in a window. LOL Now, if the words come that easy, that would be great! I have what feels like three million boxes to go through, but I figure I will be in this house until I am dead so there is no need to rush anything. I am going to take my time and get things done…when I get them done.
Well, I just wanted to check in with everyone and let you all know I am still around. Talk to you all soon…
Keep Rockin’
Julie
There is no feeling in the world like playing live in front of an audience. It is better than any drug or aphrodisiac imaginable. I remember the first “high” I got from a performance…I was 13 and it was during our production of Jesus Christ Superstar. Thankfully, most people didn’t have camcorders back then so to my knowledge, there is no existing footage of this show which allows me to remember it as a much more stellar performance than it probably was.
The show combined my two loves of the theater and rock and gave me the opportunity to have fun with the music as opposed to being only “technically” perfect without room for “performance.” I liked the performance part. There was a freedom that came with it that allowed you to stretch yourself, to become someone else entirely and I knew I had found my calling.
At the end of one of the performaces, my name and role was called and I remember coming to the center of the stage with my hands aloft and in the shape of a heart. It was a move I had seen Ann Wilson do only a few months before so of course, I adopted the symbol for myself. I was tired but happy that all of the hard work had paid off.
This past weekend was like that as I played for the first time in public with Epic Fail. These guys are incredibly talented and I had a blast shaking what my mama gave me while singing some of my favorite tunes. (Some of which I hadn’t sang in years!) While I admit to not being 20 anymore and all of the butt wiggling and dancing sure did take its toll, I have held up better than some I am sure and if it weren’t for regular workouts, I would probably still be in bed popping pain pills!
This Friday I will join the band again for a performance at the Historic Hannah House on the southside. I am told this will be a bigger show than last Saturday and I can’t wait to rock out some more. I assume I may be in the twilight of my rock star years so I have to make the most of it while I can. I encourage all of my friends and fans to come out Friday night from 9-midnight and check these guys out…also, if you want to see some cool photos from last weekend, be sure to check out my friend Joe’s blogs at :
http://joekonz.fototime.com/Concerts%20-%20Epic%20Fail
http://photopotpourri.blogspot.com/2009/08/epic-fail-delivers-at-back-to-school.html
Be sure also to tune in Sunday at 9:30 on WIBC as I will be on their Sunday show talking about the new book! I will also be on Paul Irwin’s radio show on August 12 (My birthday!) at 2 p.m. Until next time…
KEEP ROCKIN’
Julie
Hey Everyone!
If you have not caught any of my signings for “Eastside Indianapolis”…then this weekend, I am going to be hard to miss! I hope everyone has a chance to come out and say hello at some point over the next couple of days. Tomorrow (7/30) I will be signing at Crestwood Village East at 9:30 a.m. and then reading at Bookmama’s at 7 p.m. Saturday…get ready to rock as I take the stage with EPIC FAIL at Garfield Park at 11 a.m! This one-off event is not to be missed and trust me when I say it has “been a long time” since I have done the music thing. Saturday night I am singing the National Anthem for the Indianapolis Tornados and signing books at their football game at Park Tudor. Kick off is at 7 p.m. And of course, don’t miss out on the Ice cream Social at the Bona Thompson Center in Irvington where I will be signing books and enjoying some delicious ice cream. That event happens from 2-5 p.m.
So no matter where you are in the city this weekend, be sure to pop by and say hello! Until next time…
Keep Rockin’
Julie
Hey Everyone!
First off: Thanks to Joe Konz for getting one of the pictures he took at Bookmamas last weekend into the Indianapolis Star East! It was funny that a picture of me ended up below an article I wrote about teenage rock band Epic Fail.
Anyway, this Sunday morning I will be appearing on WIBC-FM 93.1 at 9:30 to discuss Eastside Indianapolis. I am really excited about this opportunity and hope everyone has a chance to check it out. For those of you outside of the Indy area, visit www.wibc.com and click on the listen live link that will allow you to hear it.
In other news, I am hard at work on my new book, Shelby County, IN: A Brief History. I was out in Shelby County yesterday getting some research material so I think it is going to be a fun title and I am looking forward to seeing it on the bookshelves in early 2010.
Well, I have to get back at it, I am knee deep in an article about Michael Jackson for Traces, the Indiana history magazine and then it will be back to the book. Until next time….
Keep Rockin’
Julie
Hey Everyone!
This week’s launch events for “Eastside Indianapolis: A Brief History” were off the charts! I want to thank everyone who came out and shared their own Eastside memories. It has been so much fun meeting everyone and hearing so many wonderful stories.
I have a lot of photos posted on Facebook of the different events and I want to especially point out Joe Konz’ work at Bookmamas on Saturday. He was kind enough to come out and take some shots that I think are just wonderful. He also put them on his blog, so be sure to check it out:
http://photopotpourri.blogspot.com/2009/07/indy-author-reaches-trifecta.html
If you haven’t gotten your book yet, there will be plenty of chances in the near future. I will be at the Irvington Farmer’s Market next month and I will be at the Ice Cream Social as well as some other little events as well. So as always be sure to come out and say hello! Also, be sure to start looking for my new column in the Eastside Voice. I will be sharing some Eastside memories as well as other ramblings. If you don’t get the “Voice” I will try and put the column on here as well!
In the meantime..I am off to the pool to tan, relax and do some research…until next time…
Keep Rockin’
Julie
Hey Everyone!
As though the upcoming launch for Eastside Indianapolis: A Brief History wasn’t enough…I am announcing my new project, Shelby County, Indiana: A Brief History which is underway and should be out in early 2010. I am really excited about this title and know it will be another accessible read for those who enjoy Indiana history. I am also in early talks about another book that I am very passionate about. While I don’t want to spill a lot of details, if this book comes to pass, it will be the biggest thing I have ever done and will couple my love for writing, Indiana and music.
In other news, I am having a pre-launch event for the new book at my house on July 10th. This is by invitation only but I know there are probably some friends and colleagues who have slipped through the cracks. If you know me well and want to come to the party, please e-mail me privately and we’ll get you an invitation ASAP. The first public appearance I will be making for the book will be at Bookmama’s in Irvington on July 11, at 1:30 p.m. Other early dates include:
August 1: Park Tudor-Indianapolis Tornadoes game. I have been invited to sing the National Anthem and will have books available for sale at the game.
August 2: Ice Cream Social at the Bona Thompson in Irvington
August 9: Irvington Farmer’s Market at Ellenberger Park.
As more dates are added, you will see them here first. Of course you can contact me or my publisher to order a copy of the book or any of my other titles. If your civic, church or other group would like me to appear, please contact me and we will set something up. I look forward to hearing from everyone soon!
Until next time, keep rockin’
Julie
Hey Everyone!
I am excited to announce that Eastside Indianapolis: A Brief History will be published next week by the History Press. I am hosting a VIP event at my home to celebrate the launch of this title and I will also be appearing at Bookmama’s on July 11 at 1:30 p.m. Here is the press release about the book. Hope to see everyone there…until next time, Keep Rockin’
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The History Press, Inc. |
18 Percy Street
Charleston, SC 29403
16 Front Street, Suite 202
Salem, MA 01970
Local Author, Julie Young, Pens New Book
In its early days, Indianapolis was designed to be a city of only one square mile, but as settlers flocked to the Circle City, a steady beat of progress made its way across the Eastside. Through their dedication to maintaining the character of neighborhoods like Woodruff Place, Fountain Square and Irvington, Eastsiders have banded together time and again to preserve the memories of landmarks like the Rivoli Theatre and Al Green’s. In Eastside Indianapolis: A Brief History, Julie Young, a lifelong resident of the Eastside, celebrates one of the most culturally diverse areas of Indianapolis as she illuminates the strength and determination that would make any resident proud to call the Eastside home.
Julie Young is the multi-award nominated author of A Belief in Providence: a Life of Saint Theodora Guerin. She is a freelance writer for a variety of local, regional and national publications including The Indianapolis Star, Indianapolis Monthly Magazine, Evansville Living, ADVANCE for Nurses Magazine and the National Catholic Register. Julie lives in Indianapolis with her two sons.
If you would like to schedule an interview with the author, please contact Katie Parry at 843.577.5971, ext 113 or katie.parry@historypress.net
Meet the Author!
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Bookmamas
9 S. Johnson Avenue
Indianapolis, Indiana
ISBN: 978-1-59629-683-1 • Paperback • 128 pages • $19.99 • July 2009
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Contact: Katie Parry Publicist 843.577.5971, ext 113 katie.parry@historypress.net |
I’ve told my children time and time again, “The world was not the same the next day.” It was 1983 and what was supposed to be a simple televised celebration of Motown became something bigger than life when Michael Jackson took the stage in the now infamous “Billie Jean” performance. He did a dance move that had no name at the time but seemed to defy the laws of nature. The next day, it was all anyone could talk about. “Did you see Michael Jackson last night?” Indeed, the world wasn’t the same the next day.
Everyone has those “Where were you when…” moments. For my parent’s generation, it was the moment Kennedy was assassinated or the moon landing. For my generation it might have been knowing where you were the moment the Challenger exploded, where you were when Elvis died or when John Lennon was shot, but when I was in fifth grade, it was all about the night Michael did the moonwalk for the first time.
It is hard to put into words what Michael Jackson meant to the music industry. I am amazed at how my mother looked at him as the kid with tons of talent and plenty of energy when she saw him on the Ed Sullivan show back in the ’60s. Of course I am of the “sequined glove” generation who remembers Michael for his military jackets, the “Thriller” video and the wagonload of Grammys he took home while dating Brooke Shields and Emmanual Lewis. For my oldest son, Jackson represented one of the great performers of all time, but also one of the most eccemtric and my youngest only knew Michael as “Wacko Jacko.”
I have said for years that if anything ever happened to Michael Jackson, I would hope the global community would focus on his music legacy rather than some of the more questionable decisions of the superstar. Jackson was a fellow Hoosier and someone who faced unprecedented fame at a very young age. Few people reach that super stratified level of popularity where they become prisoners of their success. Elvis is the only other one who comes to mind when I think about that. Even the Beatles didn’t have the same problems…maybe because there were four of them and maybe because when you really stop to think about it, their career as a band only spanned 10 years.
“It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right” sang Michael in “Beat It”. For some, it did matter. Jackson’s troubles certainly tainted his image over his years. At the beginning he was merely eccentric, having a thing for chimps and a reclusive lifestyle, then people wondered why a seemingly sane person would build Disneyland in his backyard. The young man who seemed beyond his years suddenly became the boy who refused to grow up. Then the allegations came…I don’t know if the charges were true or not. That is now between Jackson and God, and I don’t want to use this forum for speculation, but I have always and will always question ANY parent who would allow their child to sleep with a superstar or who would look the other way as their child globtrotted off with a modern day version of Peter Pan.
Today, radio stations are playing Jackson’s music and the music channels are all dedicated to his memory. I know there are some who do not care that we have lost an icon, but I haven’t felt this sad since the day my mother told me Elvis died. I feel like a friend has passed, a friend who provided the soundtrack of my childhood. He was the King of Pop and had the chutzpah to claim the title as his own and he will be missed.
I love the song “Kryptonite” by 3 Doors Down, especially the line that says “If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?” As if I wasn’t insane enough with my life, a random shot of brilliance told me that I should build a new house. I romanticized the idea that I wanted to be the only person to live there and to grow old in my little piece of New Palestine.
Friends tried to warn me. “You have to watch them every step of the way,” they exclaimed, telling me horror stories of their own building experiences that remind you of child birth and labor tales too impossible to believe. I was naive enough to believe that it was as simple as choosing your lot, adding you elements and being done with the whole thing….yeah, right.
So far, I have land that is oddly shaped, a house that fits on it only at certain angles and when I finally got all the math worked out (and for those of you who know me well, Math is NOT my subject), I am now being told that they don’t want to build the house on the angle I had in mind…hmmm, last time I checked they aren’t living there.
I could be crazy, and that might not be too far of a stretch, but if I am staring at an empty lot and this is my first problem? How many more will follow? Let me hear about your building horror stories so that I will feel better…also, pray that this somehow works out for me!
Keep Rockin’
Julie