Feeling Nostalgic Day 2: Skating Rinks

Who remembers strapping four wheels to your feet and hittin’ a slippery wooden floor grooving to the music below awesome lights that could give a person seizures? Yeah, finding a skating rink nowadays… not so easy peasy. 

We used to have one in Friendship that was open on Friday and Saturday nights. It wasn’t humongous, and had a cement floor (ouch!) but it still fulfilled the need for a clean, safe weekend night out with friends.

In junior high, we would take a quarterly field trip to either Skate City in the Rapids or Tamarack in the Dells. I never once went to Tamarack; always Skate City. We could choose which place to go to as a reward for good behavior. Only the students who had not been in any trouble that quarter could go. I did have some disciplinaries, however they all seemed to disappear from my file after the principal got sick of seeing my parents due to write-ups for frivolous actions.

Anyway, back to the skating rinks. I haven’t been on rollerblades in years. I still do own a pair. I think the last time I skated was at my nephew’s birthday party a few years ago at High Rollers in La Crosse… 2011 maybe? All my head injuries haven’t helped either. It was nearly the hardest thing in the world for me to make the decision to sell my hockey equipment and skates last winter.

I remember when I first learned how to skate. I was in 5^th grade, and one of our neighbors gave me a pair of figure skates. Prior to this, my experience with skating was putting on the roller skates, sitting on the skateboard, and rolling down the hill on the street next to our house.

The fire department would come out every winter and flood the schoolyard for an ice skating rink for us kids. My best friend taught me how to ice skate during noon recess one day. I threw up in class right after lunch that day and was sent home.

That Christmas I received a pair of hockey skates. I don’t remember how I obtained my first hockey stick, but I was pretty much unstoppable after that. I would go to the schoolyard after school and play hockey with one of the teacher’s sons, who was obsessed with the Mighty Ducks movies (as was I) and thought he was one of the Bash Brothers. This kid was like 6 years old at the time.

The first weekend after school let out after 6^th grade, we went up to Park Falls to visit my grandparents. And to leave my brother there for the summer. On the way home, we stopped at Pamida and my reward for having a good final report card was my first pair of rollerblades, complete with a helmet, knee and elbow pads, wrist guards, etc. I felt like I could barely move once I got all the gear on, how on Earth was I going to learn how to skate?

By Monday morning, my best friend was over and we were down in the schoolyard on the blacktopped smooth parking lot so she could teach me how to rollerblade. I didn’t throw up this time, and I only remember falling once or twice. 

Feeling Nostalgic Day 1: Playgrounds and Playplaces

                Old school playgrounds. I just mentioned to someone today that I remember as a kid enjoying going to other places to see the playground equipment that parks and playgrounds had that we didn’t have in our area. I even used to create my own dream playgrounds on paper. 

The white springy rocket ship at the Lion’s Park in Adams.

The swinging gate at a park in Waupaca that we went to on a field trip in 6^th grade and a reporter having lunch in the park took a picture of me hanging upside down on it. He said he would send us a copy of that paper but we never received one. I’ve considered driving to Waupaca one of these days to see if I can hunt it down in their archives or something.

In the “yearbook” Ms. Ratzlaff made for us at Brooks School, there was also a photocopied picture of me hanging upside down on the monkey bars outside Mrs. Burke’s classroom. I’m a hoarder, but cannot find that yearbook anywhere! Sheesh, I thought I kept everything! 

The curly metal slide at the park in Westfield that I loved and for some reason my brother hated. That was also the place I had my first taste of Sarsaparilla. 

The old metal playgrounds at McDonald’s with the equipment made out of the characters. The old merry go rounds. Now everything is plastic and merry-go-rounds are plat formed at ground level because Oh my God, kids were getting hurt! Yeah, that happens.

 

And that brings me to indoor playrooms most commonly seen at fast food restaurants such as McDonald’s, Hardee’s, Burger King, etc.

I can’t tell you how many times a vehicle crashed through the wall and into the ball pit at the Hardee’s in Adams. Three, maybe four that I remember. 

The Hardee’s in the Rapids had this amazing tri-level carpeted fortress with slides that landed you in the suspended ball pit. I loved that one. I had one of my birthday parties there as a kid. I’m pretty sure I still have the glow in the dark plastic cross and name card Beth gave me during that party.

Slowly, the indoor kiddie metropolises began to fade away due to, oh, I don’t know… germ fear mongering over-protective parents would be my guess. You all know we’re raising a generation of dependent wusses, right? Oh, wait, that was the topic I was not going to drift to in this blog. Some other time. Stay tuned...

Where was your favorite playground as a child?

Feeling Nostalgic Lately?

On the radio here at work, they were playing a dance song with a line that went “everyone get on the party line” and that made me think of all the things that kids who are growing up now in the advanced technology age will never experience, such as a party line (which I am sure has a different meaning today) but there are already plenty of lists out there and not where I’m going with this one. Maybe another time.

                Nostalgia. Thanks to endless lists on Buzzfeed and ancient pictures on Pinterest that have allowed us to remember things we only had as kids, I get so lost in it. I can start looking at one list on Buzzfeed that one of my friends linked on facebook with a title such as “30 Things only 90s Kids Will Understand” or the like, laugh, remember, agree, and see another link to something that relates to me as a 90s kid and just go on for a while. Or I’ll start looking at pics of old toys on Pinterest and next thing I know is three hours have passed and that cat is starving and dinner hadn’t prepared itself. 

                Now I laugh even more. Because I complain of how kids being raised in the digital age now will never know what life prior was like, but if it weren’t for the Internet and social media, we would have nothing to reminisce from except our own pictures and memories. 

                Again, a topic for another time. Back to nostalgia. It seems that many enjoy the memories, based on the comments and captions and lists. I know I do, which is probably why my Pinterest board named “Have You Seen my Childhood” has the most pins. Flashback Fun! I like that title. It’s from a movie soundtrack but I don’t remember what movie. All I remember is that particular scene made me cry.

                Am I the only 90s kid who is caught up in all this? I’m sure I am not. But why are we? Do we long for those days to return? Is it because we were kids and took everything for granted and thought it would never end? When you’re a kid you want to be an adult and once you reach that point, you just want to curl into a ball and crawl into your Daddy’s arms or return to your blanket fort and shoot Nerf darts at the dog. Speaking of Nerf darts, have you seen the Nerf guns they have nowadays? Some of them are the size of assault rifles and military grade replicas! Again, that will drift me to a topic that is for another time. 

For now, here is my list of things from my childhood that I wish still existed or greatly enjoyed. However, it is quite extensive, so to keep your attention I will post a little at a time as a series. Stay tuned for tomorrow’s post, and the next few days as I elaborate on the long gone memories of my youth.

What did YOU want to be when you grew up?

Everyone asks kids what they want to be when they grow up. Tonight at work I’m asking people what they wanted to be when they grew up.

A nurse in surgery.

A journalist.

A jockey when she was little, then in high school she wanted to be a bone specialist.

An astronaut. FBI. He didn’t remember.

A millionaire. But money’s not everything. I just wanted to live in the country with a white picket fence and a pickup truck.

A musician. Because I thought they played lots of music and lived on the beach and had girls chasing us 

around tossing their underwear at us and it sounded like fun.

If we would have had money for me to go to school, I would have been a nurse.

He wanted to be big and tall.

I honestly don’t remember, but it wasn’t working as (insert job title) at (place of employment).

I wanted to be a veterinarian until I found out they put animals to sleep.

Math teacher.

Stewardess on an airplane.

A truck driver.

Rich and never have to work again.

A veterinarian.

Not here.

Either law enforcement or a firefighter, but I ended up going into the military.

A cop.

Physical therapist.

A police officer. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries. Then when Monk came on in 2001, I wanted to be a detective.

Jedi.

                Yes, he said a Jedi.

               

Many asked me after I asked them; or while they were trying to remember, what I wanted to be. Ha! Mine changed as often as I rearranged my bedroom.

               

                I remember first wanting to be a kindergarten teacher, then an art teacher. When my brother and I were young we would play cops ‘n robbers a lot. I was always the cop. Because I could never catch him is what he thought. And it was always him being arrested for attempted murder. Maybe I can also attribute that to Unsolved Mysteries? But by the time I was 12, I was saying I wanted to be an inmate because it looked like fun on TV. Yeah, if only I knew the truth then… I got that wish when I was 21.

                Let’s see, I can also remember wanting to be an architect and an interior designer. Again when we were little, one of the things I loved to do was layout cities on tag board to play with our Micro Machines. I have graph paper pads of home, school, and mall floor plans I have created.

                Hmmm… what else did I want to be? I had this t-shirt with a telephone on it that said “Chatterbox” and my Mom said I was going to end up being a telephone operator someday. But my teachers always told her I was so quiet they never knew I was in class! Ha ha! I did end up doing a short stint as a customer service rep for Verizon Wireless, but that didn’t last long. I’m too active and not cut out for cubicle work. Considered being a 911 dispatcher also but again, I would rather be out in the action then sitting behind a computer screen. 

               

                I had aspirations of being a novelist or journalist. I would make up short stories and type them up on a manual typewriter when I was maybe 8, 9 years old. I was our Club Reporter in 4-H and would write up our activity for the month for the local newspaper and the 4-H newsletter. I also did the club scrapbook, and worked on the yearbook in high school so I was also interested in layout or graphic design, coupled with my interest in desktop publishing. I wrote a book when I was 17 but it’s cheesy because I was 17. I attempted to get that one published in a couple of first writer’s contests but was declined. Apparently critics in New York don’t believe that teens talk how I portrayed them… however most of it was true and they either don’t talk like that in New York or teens have changed in the past 13 years. I’ve started a couple more books in the meantime but hope to really finish one of them, and the one I have put forth the most effort on so far. I’ve even considered making it into a trilogy. There was also a point in time I wanted to work for the local newspaper as a proofreader; well Editor I guess they call it that now. Sometimes I liked to read the newspaper just to pick out all the mistakes and was tempted to highlight them and drop it back into their drop box!

               

                Hmmm… what else did I dream of doing with my life? My two best friends from high school talked about after graduation, buying a station wagon, throwing a mattress in the back and touring the country. Yeah, that never happened. I’ve still barely made it out of the Midwest and it’s going on…12 years since graduating high school? One of those friends completely cut ties with me the summer after she graduated and the other, well we lost contact for a few years but now talk once in a while on facebook.

                I considered going into law until I found out it took eight years of school. Then again, I’m nearly there as it is and I still only have an Associate’s degree… almost a Bachelor’s. My sister and I even talked about how cool it would be to go to school together for paralegal, but I am not really a good liar.

                Storm chasing and photography is fun and exciting, but there’s no way to make a career out of that. Some do, but they have much more knowledge about meteorology and science than I could ever remember. It’s more fun to do as a hobby, not for a career. I don’t want to quit doing something I enjoy because I get bored with it by doing it all the time and then will never learn to appreciate and have fun with it ever again. 

                I guess the point I am trying to make is that I don’t know. I simply do not know. I don’t know what I want to do. I have plans; I have dreams and aspirations, but I feel stuck. Most people by the time they are 30 have completed college, are beginning their careers, married and have a kid or two or five. I’m like way behind in that sense.  And I don’t know why, because it’s not going to just fall out of the sky and land in my lap. If it will, I should be wandering around aimlessly, wearing a helmet wrapped in tin foil.

                On the other hand, I do know that I, as others have said above, do not want to be here at this place doing this job forever. I enjoy it, but I know there are better things out there for me. It’s just a matter of figuring out what and when it shall all fall into my lap. 

Favorite Job

What was your favorite job and why?

                This is a very popular question one may be asked during a job interview. I always must think about this question because I am one of those easygoing types who attempts to make the best out of any situation. I think I’ve had more jobs I’ve liked or just been okay with than ones I hated, which is also a twist on another popular interview question: which job did you dislike the most?

                I had the normal “teen” jobs. Babysitting the neighborhood kids, shoveling snow for local businesses, working at the community center, etc. My first job where I earned a real, actual, taxed paycheck was in retail in the tourist trap of Wisconsin Dells for a guy who owned several souvenir shops. But one was a toy store and that was for sure where I wanted to be!

My first summer there was the summer I turned 17, between my junior and senior years of high school. I was placed at the store at the boat docks. I had one customer once who put me to tears and I ran out of the store, wanting to quit. I came back, but only after the manager and my Dad (who also worked in the area) calmed me down.

                One of my worst nights in that job is when some forgetful jerk accused me of stealing his envelope full of cash right off the counter. He made me call the police and the officer searched my belongings and backpack, where I had stashed my paycheck I cashed on the way to work. Man, the only thing that saved me there was my check stub and the fact that I had not spent a penny, and that it was only a quarter of the amount he said he was missing.

                I quit not too long after that. I was in my third summer there. First summer I was at the boat docks shop, the second summer I worked in the toy store, and the following summer I begged for the toy store back and they wouldn’t give it to me because the store was “so small that we can put anybody in there.” Apparently the manager thought I was too smart to run a small toy store by myself. But not getting my way was not the reason I quit. Okay, I guess in a sense it could have been….but in March, at the beginning of my work season, I had asked for 5 days off in July to attend a music festival, which I already had paid for my tickets, camping, etc. I was dead set on going, and this was prior to craigslist or buy, sell, trade pages where I would have been able to sell the tickets and get my money back.  They wouldn’t give me ANY of the days off, even though I’d asked four months in advance.

                So on my last night at closing time, my boss had to come and count the till in my presence. Apparently some maroons thought cleaning out the till on their last night was a good idea…

                Anyway, my manager was upset that she had to count my till. Not just upset that she had to do it in general, but that she had to count MY till. She kept apologizing to me and explaining that this was policy and must be done for everyone who leaves, even though mine had never been off more than a few cents and that’s why she was upset that she had to count mine.

                But that was totally the opposite issue when I worked at a Dairy Queen. For the life of me I could never ever get those darn ice cream balls or the swirly que on the cones right. I was 20 and it was my first job in fast food. I got the job pretty quick. I dropped off the application in the early afternoon hours and by the time I had ridden my bike home and got in the door, there was a message on the machine from the manager wanting to interview me. I called her back and she hired me on the spot at the interview. March 1^st, 2004. I was within about three days of getting my 60 day, ten cent raise when I quit. This place was messed up.

I would probably say this job was the one I disliked the most. I tried my hardest to avoid ever working in a fast food joint, but unlike many others nowadays, I swallowed my pride and sucked it up because I needed a job.

Working the drive-thru was bad because the place was located right next to some railroad tracks so it was impossible to hear anything when trains rumbled through. I started on days because most of the employees were high school kids, but I was switched to nights after a few weeks and the night manager was like 17 and still in high school. And he was the one who counted down my drawer every night. Alone. Their policy for short tills was that every week they would write the total of how much you were short (in your till) on your paycheck envelope, and you had to pay that amount prior to receiving your check. You couldn’t even cash your check and pay it out of that; it had to be paid in cash before they would hand you the envelope. And also a day that your till would be over did not count as a credit towards any of your amount they claimed you were short.

One week I came up just under $30 short. I KNEW this was an error. But no one would verify it, show me proof, or had any evidence of it except that’s what the 17 year old manager had counted. I was irate.

Another way this place was messed up was that if you could not cover your shift, it was your responsibility to find an employee who would. Good luck with that one. If you didn’t have someone to replace you, they would fire you.

Well, I overslept one night. And it was the night President Bush was in town, and I lived about 8 blocks from the park he was speaking at… it took me about 2 hours to get from my place to work… about 8 miles away… so I said screw it, I was already three hours late and had no one to cover my shift.

I had another reason to tell that place to screw it anyway… I had started a second job, third shift, full time, and had to be there by 10:30 p.m. I informed my boss of this and that I could not work past 10, 10:15 at the latest, and that week they started scheduling me until 10:30. 

Buh-bye. I made better money and had better hours at my second job anyway.

I’ve had a few more jobs than that in my lifetime. Factory work, protective services, telephone customer service at a place that had insanely ridiculous near impossible standards, babysitting swimming pools as a slide attendant and lifeguard, pitching newspapers, etc. The job I have now is the longest full time job I have ever held, and that offers benefits. I am not sure I can say this has been my favorite job of all, as every job has its’ perks and downfalls. I think at this point in time, I am just glad to have a job and not going to do anything to jeopardize it, if I can help it J

But what on earth is with these people who complain about never having any money because they don’t have a job or not making an attempt to find a job? NOBODY is going to hand it to you. If they do, you better bet they have a brain and that it won’t last forever. Finding a job should BE your full time job. At one point I had filled out so many applications that I had all of my information memorized accurately and could fill out an application start to finish without any cheat sheets.

And I definitely was not like the other breed of unemployed people out there nowadays; the ones who had jobs as CEOs or made millions and their jobs were lost in the economic depreciation but now they won’t accept any job that pays less than what they were getting. Greedy guts. I vowed that I would never work in fast food but I sucked it up and did it because it was a job and I needed one, even though it probably was the one job I despised the most.

On the other hand, we have this generation of numb nuts who have a job, but they don’t want to earn their paycheck, they just want it handed to them. They’ll come to work and do as little as they have to in order to receive a paycheck. Here’s a hint, my friend: this won’t get you promoted, won’t get you good references, and will probably give you more enemies than friends. If you don’t like your job, be glad you have one because plenty of others are out there looking who want to work. No one is making you be here. Keep this one while you look for something better and take that when it comes along. Because I am getting kind of sick of hearing about you whiny butts complain because you are too lazy to work or find a job and then you lose everything and expect the government to support you and then you get comfortable in that until it runs out, then go looking for a handout somewhere else. Or maybe you turn to drugs or alcohol as an escape and get yourself stuck in the criminal justice system which you won’t whine about too bad either because it’s three meals a day and a place to live. Then you just become a drain on society in a different sense.

Why does everyone have to make things so difficult? Be happy with what you got. You don’t like it, seek something different that you think may be better.

Relax.

Chill.

Peace out.

Things I've Learned in Life.

Being angry takes too much energy.

Everyone is a stranger until you get to know them. They tell us not to talk to strangers, but how do we meet people?

Read the fine print. Even if it is just for fun, and especially prior to signing your name on the dotted line.

Learn phonics. It will teach you to read and write in a language one understands instead of “txt tlk.” Huh? Would you like to buy a vowel? Vowels are important. There are five of them, sometimes six.

Watch Wheel of Fortune.

Play Scrabble. Even if it is against yourself. Don’t laugh, it is very possible.

Having street smarts usually means you know what common sense is and you also possess common sense.

Sing karaoke at least once in your life.

You are not afraid of the dark. You are afraid of what could be lurking under the shadow of darkness.

Relax.

Shrug things off. You do not have to make a gigantic ordeal out of everything. Others’ issues do not have to become your issues and vice versa.

Don’t look for love in the workplace.

Discipline your children. Don’t let them become part of the “entitled, gimme, gimme” of the future generation. Teach them how to work and respect. Because my carpal tunnel probably isn’t from playing hockey for 13 years; it’s probably from writing Ephesians 6:1 500 times or more by the time I was 10. Yes, I am 30 and have never forgotten….

Dream.

Keep a journal.

Journal about your dreams. Those you have while sleeping or awake.

Take pictures. Lots of them. And back them up online or on discs and keep them in a safe place. Because photographs and humans are about the only two valuable things that cannot be replaced if destroyed by flood or fire.

Don’t rush into marriage and starting a family. Having kids is great, but also, doing things alone with your significant other is amazing. Things you have always wanted to do but would be more difficult with an infant, if time even permits. I don’t know any young parent who regrets having children, but know plenty who have said they wish they had waited longer.

Always go with your gut instinct. It’s usually right.  

Pay attention to the weather. 

Sunrise and Sunset...

How many people are able to say they can watch both the sunrise and the sunset in the same day? At work, there is one post that I normally dread because it’s so boring and dull and time stands still and you’re lucky if you see anyone during that hour.

                Except for the last hour of the shift. The door faces south, but the large floor-to-ceiling windows give a great view of the eastern sky.

I cannot even begin to describe the colors. The thin wispy clouds closest to me in the west are kind of pinkish-orange-ish. Then eastbound the sky goes to a white-ish, blue-ish, pink-ish, leaving the separation of color by a few long, thin, periwinkle colored clouds, then strips of pink and dark blue above the tree line.

The morning weatherman said sunrise is at 6:24 today. It’s currently 6:20 but a tree line blocks my view for approximately another half hour.

Usually an hour at this post drags on forever. But the last hour of the day here watching the sun rise seems to make the time so much more precious. It’s the beginning of a new day for the majority of citizens, but for those of us who are referred to as “vampires” by “normal” people or 9 to 5’ers, it means another thing.

It’s bedtime.

And there are some of us who will be lucky enough to wake up just in time to see the same kind of spectacle on the opposite side of the horizon, as your day ends and mine begins again.