The Wonderful Wizard

It has been official for some time now.... I am old.  Tell-tale signs are being referred to as “Maam,” starting way too many stories, “When I was younger ----” and longing for a simpler time when the music was better, the pace slower and the nation on more stable ground.

 

I still chuckle (even though deep down I’m growling) when I share the time at a work meeting with intergenerational staff, someone mentioned the Olympics and we began sharing about grand Olympic moments and I shared, “Has to be the Miracle on Ice when USA Hockey beat the favored Russians. I still remember where I was. Does anyone else remember?” At this point a young’un shared, “Sally, I wasn’t born yet.”  Ouch.  

This also happens when discussing films and one has to say, “The original FOOTLOOSE….”

 

Yet, there is one movie I believe we can still relate no matter our age.  That film is THE WIZARD OF OZ.”  Today, is the birthday of Frank L. Baum, the author who wrote the book.

 

Those of us of a certain age, can recall the days when television had four channels (CBS, ABC, NBC and PBS). Once a year one of the stations would air “THE WIZARD OF OZ,” it was usually in the Springtime and everyone we gathered around the family set.  The next day we talked about it with friends and would exclaim how scary were the flying monkeys, the love we had for the cowardly lion and to remember this handy tip when faced with the encounter of a witch: water melts ‘em.

 

Even before the pandemic, we have lost a sense of community. When people talk about getting back to normal, my response is we need to do some improvements first. 

 

I loved my first Walk-Man. However, it also broadened one’s perspective hearing a variety of music on long car rides with the family. Personally, it is how I came to appreciate the music of the girl groups of the sixties and the classic rock of the seventies. (One more sign of being old, the music of your youth is now featured on the Oldies station…sigh…..)

With hundreds of channels and multiple television sets in homes, one can watch what one wants. Yet, there are lessons of patience learned when sitting through another episode of “Gunsmoke” because that was your father’s favorite program.  

What connects us? What are the shared moments to which we can each experience and then discuss?  

Think about it, Little League has been replaced by travel leagues; church has become irrelevant with large segments of the population identifying their religious affiliation as “none;” and a community-sponsored bake sale was always sketchy and in the pandemic era near obsolete. 

How to connect? We need to answer this one or, I fear, the community we need and want will become something left to be granted and given by  the great Wizard of Oz.  

How we celebrate now

 

It may be an effect of the journey through the pandemic and not being able to be out and with. In my neighborhood, I’ve noticed new ways in which families celebrate. 

 

Popular are the two-foot-tall individual letters lined with lights and spelling out Happy Birthday. Accompanying this is an age-specific, four-foot-tall number stuffed with colorful balloons. 

 

These displays are all over the neighborhood.  My next-door neighbor’s daughter left hers up for weeks.  The celebrative tone tends to wane a bit as the balloons deflate, yet she remains a proud seven years old.

 

One neighbor posted a five-foot sign celebrating finalizing of the adoption of their son. Another, complete with a four-foot bible and church, wanted all to know their children just celebrated their first communion. 

 

Walking around the neighborhood and noticing these family’s yard celebrations, I pause and applaud at each one.  Kind of my way to join in their celebration.

 

My family kept our celebrations insular and private. Though no three-foot yard signs, my mother excelled in refrigerator art and proclamations. Every finger paint masterpiece, starred homework sheet and newspaper clipping went on the fridge door. No banners, an occasional balloon, no yard signs, the occasional outside party. Yet, most importantly, a birthday was never missed our entire lives…as kids, adolescents and grown adults in the workforce and our own residences.  For each birthday, she made your favorite meal.  As kids, she made it extra, extra special by baking and decorating a cake to your liking.  I recall, a lion, an elephant, a snowman, a giraffe, a football field on the year the Super Bowl was played on my birthday.   

Who knows what normal will be on the other side of all this. Yet, in over a year of isolation and distancing (six feet and other ways) it seems there is a need to announce boldly and grandly our accomplishments and milestones. Do I feel connected to these people? Not really, yet, if they are ever outside when I walk pass, I will feel as if I know a bit more about my neighbors…the positive, good stuff. 

 

If we’ve learned or in some instances re-learned anything it’s to celebrate all the little things and moments….each one…recognize the moment and be thankful.