First Day Sets The Stage For School Career

Can you remember the first time you didn’t “go back to school?”

The summer after high school or college ended and you just kept going. There was no back to school shopping or schedule pickup – just another day of work. Maybe it was a summer job that rolled into the fall or maybe you started that first “real job” and got so busy that you didn’t notice school was starting again.

Then, you found yourself driving through the familiar school zone waiting for the crossing guard’s signal to pass. Even if it was just for a moment, you probably wished you could walk right back through those school doors.

As a student, my two best days of the school year were always the first day and the last day. No research exists but I would imagine many teachers feel the same way. Not taking away from the great things that happen during the school year, but the first day is just the best.

There is something comforting about the start of a new school year. There’s the anticipation of a new teacher, the pride of new clothes and of course the smell of new school supplies. Is there anything better than cracking open a fresh box of Crayolas?

My very first school day may not have been my best but it was certainly memorable. I don’t remember the details but it involved bringing a note home from the principal. I never saw it but I’m sure the note read something like this…

“Dear Mrs. Carroll - your son Timothy and Nicholas Terrafranca were disciplined today for playing on the rectory steps. Father O’Connor brought this to my attention when he returned the playground ball that was left on the porch. I hope this is not the behavior we can expect from Timothy at Sacred Heart in the coming year.” - Sister Mary Agatha.

Actually it was exactly the behavior they came to expect. Luckily for me the nuns, like all teachers, were very good at forgiving and “helping me make good choices.”

It is a remarkable transformation that takes place over the summer. No matter how hectic the end of school is, teachers and kids return each fall refreshed and eager to start all over again. Many moms are celebrating for a different reason as they recapture their homes from the summer invaders.

One big exception are the kindergarten parents who hover and fuss as their kids are led away to class for the first time. Comforting PTA groups even offer “crying rooms” outfitted with coffee and Kleenix for distraught parents. Similar rooms should be made available for parents who watch their young ones drive away to college for the first time.

High school is a different story. Their first day is more of a social event and fashion parade interrupted by classes. It is all about who’s in my class and where do I sit at lunch this year. Still, it’s the first day and there’s a buzz in the air.

This Sunday marks the end of a long – a very long – summer. I hope every one of you has a great first day – whether you’re walking through the doors or just driving by. And parents – don’t be upset if your kindergartner comes home with a note from the principal. It will all work out in the end.

Connecticut Coed Weds Jersey Boy

Mr. and Mrs. John Brownrigg request the honor of your presence at the wedding of Ann Grace Brownrigg and Timothy Joseph Carroll on Saturday, the eleventh of August in one thousand and nine hundred and seventy nine at eleven o’clock at Christ Church, Redding Ridge, Connecticut.
It may have seemed an unlikely pairing at the time but here we are thirty years later about to celebrate another milestone.

The first time I met my future wife, she was administering a swimming test for counselors at Camp Weequahic in Lakewood, Pennsylvania. She had the whistle and the clipboard and I had a very slim chance of swimming four laps. The outcome was predictable and I failed the test.
Those who worked as overnight camp counselors know that the best week of the summer is the week before kids arrive. Staff members work all day and usually head to the nearest town for refreshments at night.

That was my plan when I offered a group of counselors, including the future Mrs. Carroll, a ride into town. The following night I repeated the offer but forgot to invite everyone except the future Mrs. Carroll.

I know the topic of marriage didn’t come up that night. In fact, the subject wasn’t breached for several years. But there we were in the bustling town of Hancock, New York trying to recreate our brief twenty years of history.

In a romantic comedy movie I would have told her she the most attractive lifeguard I’d ever met (she was) and could she possibly rethink that swim test score. A more dramatic script would have me offering charming comments (not a chance) about the summer we would spend together. In an action movie, we would be pursued through the Pennsylvania woods by thugs in velour running suits and big chains. I probably wrote a column about their father Carmine.
In the reality show of life, I probably opened with a probing question like “where do you go to school and what’s your major? What an opener.

I did learn that we both shared a desire to get out of the house for the summer. I was beginning my fifth summer as a counselor at various camps and she was facing her first. Neither of us would finish out a month at Camp Weequahic though and it wasn’t because of the guys with the big chains.

Two weeks later, I realized I’d had enough of summer camp life after five years. When I confided that thought with Ann – she admitted she couldn’t wait to leave. So we did.
I graciously offered to drive her home to Connecticut which was not exactly on the way to New Jersey but – let’s just say we had lots more to talk about. Maybe this could be a romantic road trip movie instead.

We retired to less exciting jobs in New Jersey and Connecticut and kept in touch before we headed back to college in opposite directions - New Haven (CT) and Murray (KY).
Many letters and hours of late night phone calls and a few visits back and forth kept the long distance relationship running until I graduated and moved back from Kentucky.

True to the romance movie formula, we broke up for a few months and then saw the error in our ways. The topic of marriage was finally breached in a serious way and we were married the following summer on August 11, 1979.

The story of how we came to be married thirty years ago hardly deserves a spot on the shelves at Blockbuster. Long ago it would have been moved from the college humor section to the drama pile and now to the faded family section.

That’s ok with me but this week I think it deserves to be in the Employee’s Best Picks section under romantic comedy.
Happy anniversary Ann.

Fluffernutter Crushes Foes In Taste Test

I did not eat a school cafeteria lunch until ninth grade. It wasn’t an option since our school didn’t even have a cafeteria until I hit seventh grade.

Many of us walked home at lunch time until the school built a cafeteria. Others just ate at their desks which made the classroom smell like stale milk each afternoon. In one hour I was able to catch a hot lunch, watch some Leave it To Beaver on television and run one block back to school.

The new cafeteria didn’t actually serve lunches. Instead, we could buy milk and sit at big tables while the room was monitored by volunteers to give the nuns a break. Imagine our surprise that year when we realized that nuns ate lunch too. We just assumed they went back to church to pray for strength to get through the afternoon.

Once I started bringing my lunch, every day was a surprise. Just like June Cleaver, my mother packed our lunches and had them waiting for us at the door. There was little discussion and even less argument about what was in the bag. So just like Wally and the Beaver, my brother and I grabbed the sack lunch and walked to school.

The lunches were not what you’d call gourmet but I enjoyed them anyway. Looking back, I wondered how my mother’s school lunches would fare with today’s discriminating lunch critics. To find out, I conducted a taste test using nine kids from Allen ISD’s Kids Club program. The highly scientific study asked the kids to rate each of my mother’s signature sandwiches as Great, OK, or Terrible.

I called the first sandwich a “Goober” after the jar of blended peanut butter and jelly with the same name. We were fascinated by the convenience of combining both in a single jar and overlooked the marginal taste of both. One young taster observantly noted that it tasted like peanut butter and jelly. Overall it earned 6 greats, 2 ok’s and a no comment.

The next sandwich was called a Philadelphia after the cheese. Cream cheese and jelly was a standard lunch item. Spreading cold cream cheese on dry bread was the hardest part of this delicacy. Four kids said it was great, 2 said ok and 2 rated it above a great with an “awesome” and a “love it.”

The Deviled Sandwich refers to that small can of deviled ham. With a consistency and smell similar to cat food, I can’t imagine why I liked the stuff. I mixed some with mayonnaise and three of the kids thought it was great. Two thought it was ok, 2 thought it tasted like tuna fish and 2 wouldn’t touch it.

Finally came the most delicious and disgusting sandwich of all – The Fluffernutter. I could almost sing the whole commercial jingle as I spread the marshmallow fluff on the cheap white bread. I learned years ago to add the peanut butter to the other slice. Rumors circulated that astronauts on Apollo 13 used marshmallow fluff to fuse pipes together but I couldn’t verify it.

The kids loved it though and one said he would go home and beg his mother to buy some fluff. This classic rated 5 greats, 2 ok’s, an “I love it” and a “best ever.”

Mom knows best again. She didn’t get a single “terrible” rating. The kids, who admitted eating almost nothing but peanut butter and jelly, have expanded their tastes and are almost ready for Spam.

Girl Toys - Barbie Rules

I readily admit that The Flipside column is biased towards guys. With topics like Creepy Crawlers and chemistry sets, this should not be much of a surprise.

In an effort to share the spotlight, I recently spoke with five former children who shared their own experiences growing up with toys.

Dolls and board games dominated the conversations. I learned about Betsy Wetsy who had the unique talent of wetting her diapers. Thumbelina was the most lifelike and Patty Play Pal was the biggest. Then there was Chatty Kathy, the first truly talking doll who said “take me with you” and “tell me a story.” As a side note, June Foray was the voice inside the first dolls but she was better known as the voice of Rocky The Flying Squirrel.

Three of our panelists fondly remembered Mystery Date where pre-teens could imagine taking a dreamy hunk or dud to the dance. It was one game that could clear a room full of annoying boys very quickly.

Jane Bennett recalled a game called “Park and Shop” that required girls to arrange their shopping errands efficiently so they could get home on time. “Playing the game as much as I did probably explains my keen interest with organizing things.”

It was really all about Barbies, added Regina Taylor. We spent hours upon hours setting up house and playing with Barbie and her friend Midge.

“I can still see the Barbie dollhouse under our Christmas tree,” said Mary Kruse. “The furniture was attached to the house and the whole thing folded into a suitcase.”

Bennett was lucky enough to have one of the first dolls. “My father converted an old three shelf bookcase into a house and changing room for the dolls. I absolutely loved playing with it.”
“It was all about the fashion for Sandy Wittsche. “We would go to the store and buy a single outfit, then run home to pick out all the accessories that matched. It was a big event.”
“Eventually I grew too old for Barbies,” she added, “and they went into the closet for a long, long time. Years later I dug them out of my parent’s home and remembered how much I had enjoyed them.”

That led to her collection of vintage Barbie dolls and accessories that fills a display cabinet in her home. She also pulls a rare pink Barbie Christmas tree out of storage each year
“I wish I’d kept some of them,” said Taylor. My mother gave them away to my cousins and they promptly pulled the heads off the dolls.”

What made Barbie so appealing to us was her age, added Ann Carroll. “We had outgrown the baby dolls and here was a teenager doll that wore cool clothes and did the kind of things we hoped to do.”

Television advertising didn’t hurt either. The doll was among the first mass marketed toys and sold 350,000 units in the first year alone. According to the Mattel website, over $1.5 billion worth of Barbie products are sold each year.

Everyone agreed that Barbies were strictly girl territory. Unless G.I. Joe was looking for a date, there was no room for guys when the girls were “playing Barbies.”

“It didn’t really matter what we did with them when we got together,” explained Kruse. “The fun was in setting up the house and changing outfits around. Itw as a very social activity.”
Cruising the Internet world of Barbie collecting I found 11,367 different items listed on Ebay. They included such rarities as Allan (Midge’s boyfriend), the head of a 1960 Ken doll, a vintage 1958 Barbie ($495 bid) and a Japanese Midge in her wedding gown ($2,500).

Maybe us guys should have spent more time in “the pink aisle” when we were kids and less time picking out weapons for G.I. Joe.

It came It Thawed It Conquered

I went out for dinner three nights in a row last week. Even for me, it was excessive. I could make excuses about how busy we were but the truth is that eating out is too convenient – especially in Allen.

I certainly did not acquire the habit from my parents. Our family “went out” for dinner after funerals and sometimes on holidays. Fancy eating for the Carroll’s was the Wedgewood Cafeteria in Montclair, New Jersey. It must have been fancy because the chef wore a big hat as he cut off slabs of prime rib. In reality, the Wedgewood was probably closer to a Luby’s with linen tablecloths.

That doesn’t mean that mom cooked every night. My father made the pizza and late edition newspaper run on most Friday nights. The big treat for us came when mom sent one of us to the store for that 1960’s gem – Swanson’s TV Dinners. The standard order was two turkey and two fried chicken frozen dinners although my father occasionally broke tradition with the Swiss steak dinner.

Forty minutes later (no microwaves yet), the Carroll’s were watching family television while eating scalding hot dinners on metal TV tables.

The history of the TV dinner can be traced back to a trainload of 270 tons of leftover turkey. Swanson and Sons had undersold their Thanksgiving orders and were left with ten refrigerated cars full of turkey. The trains literally crossed back and forth across the US to keep the refrigeration units working.

Gerald Thomas, a Swanson executive, spotted the trays used for airline food service and created the famous three-part metal tray with frozen food in 1954. The first TV dinners (turkey of course) sold for 98 cents. Swanson took a risk and produced 5,000 dinners. They ended up selling 25 million in the first year thanks to the clever tie-in with the most popular appliance in America – the television. Fried chicken was added in 1955 followed by Swiss steak, Mexican themed meals, macaroni and cheese and more. Mean Joe Greene introduced the Hungry Man Meal in 1973 and the first microwave meals appeared in 1986.

I recently conducted a slightly scientific survey of about 60 Rotary members showed that about half never ate TV dinners as a kid. Those that did preferred the macaroni and cheese dinner with turkey placing a close second. Swanson’s Web site states that turkey is still the most popular meal with fried chicken in second place.

Three Rotary members remembered watching Bonanza over a TV dinner many times and one presumably younger member tied TV dinners to the Mork and Mindy show.

Like many childhood memories, my enjoyment of TV dinners should remain frozen in time. My steady diet of Banquet pot pies in college effectively killed my love for frozen foods.

While she may be mentioned in the company history, I do believe my mother had a hand in planning the meals. I couldn’t hide the vegetables because they rested in their own neat compartment. The desserts remained scalding for about 20 minutes so you couldn’t eat them first and everything was soaked in butter; just like mom’s pre-cholesterol cooking. As a final salute to mom, there were no dishes.

Take a frozen trip down memory lane by visiting http://www.swansonmeals.com/.