Gale

Gentle Santa Ana Gale

Roving traveler over Anza prairies

You tickle bovine backs,

Rustle equine manes,

And caress babies’ cheeks.

Show me where you take,

Those sweet melodies you make,

And for whose sake.

Forgotten Television: In Search of Dr. Seuss

“Open a book, open up your imagination.” –Dr. Seuss

When one journalist (Kathy Najimy) goes searching for the “true story” behind beloved children’s author Dr. Seuss, she stumbles into an unforgettable adventure through both his life and works—guided by none other than the infamous Cat in the Hat. Combining heartfelt retellings of tales such as “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas” and “Hunches-in-Bunches” with wistful commentary on what inspired Dr. Seuss to create each one, this special in no way resembles the average solemn biography on an influential figure in American literary history.

Instead, in traditional Dr. Seuss style, it fills every step with laughs and charming characters portrayed by familiar faces like Robin Williams, Billy Crystal, Patrick Stewart, and Christopher Lloyd. There are also several tasteful remixes of these classics put to music, including a gospel choir rendition of “Yurtle the Turtle” and a Broadway duet of “Oh The Places You’ll Go.”

By the finish viewers will not only have learned valuable lessons Dr. Seuss wished to give to children and adults alike with his writings, but a lot about one person who was a philanthropist to his very core and deserves to have his own story remembered by all.

Thanks to this film, that is very easy to do.

It is a shame this particular special received so little publicity, since the unconventional or (as Dr. Seuss might have called it) Sledgehammer approach to this biography makes learning about history fun and exciting. This film can turn adults into children, have kids singing, and imbue newfound wisdom and hope into anyone (regardless of his or her age).

Looking for a fun experience that just happens to be educational? Check out In Search of Dr. Seuss.

“From there to here, from here to there, funny things are everywhere.”—Dr. Seuss

Recipes We Should Recognize

There are certain food recipes so delicious it would be a shame to keep them private, and these specific ones come from a Dutch cookbook known as Cet Smakelijk (just try saying this five times fast :D), from the members and friends of the “Junior Welfare League of Holland, Michigan.” Copyright 1976, and with no plagiarism intended.

Buck’s Bread Pudding              (Makes 4-6 servings)                                     On page 556

3 Eggs                        2 tsp. Vanilla

1 qt. Milk                   4-6 Slices broken, stale bread (Teri’s note: fresh is fine too)

½ Cup Sugar              Nutmeg

Preheat oven to 400F. Use a 1½ qt. casserole. Beat eggs; add milk, sugar, and vanilla. Mix thoroughly. Stir in bread. Pour into casserole and sprinkle with nutmeg. Bake uncovered for 50-60 minutes. Delicious hot or cold.

Submitted by Buck Matthews, a personality on Grand Rapids Television

Blender Cheesecake                                                                                     On Page 455

Crumb Crust

½ eggs                                2 (8oz. each) pkgs. Cream cheese, softened and cut into pieces

½ cup sugar                       2 T. Butter melted

2 tsp. vanilla

1½ cups sour cream

Preheat oven to 325F. Line a 9’’ cake pan with crumb crust. Put eggs, sugar, vanilla and sour cream into blender; blend 15 seconds. Gradually add cheese, then butter. Pour into cake pan. Bake 35 minutes, or until set in center. Filling will be soft but will firm up as the cake cools. Chill thoroughly before serving.

Submitted by Mrs. William Boyer

Enjoy these delicious and simple dishes, with a special thanks to Buck Matthews and Mrs. Boyer.

I have placed a bar here to separate the treats above with one even simpler one my family sometimes made:

Putter Butter Jelly in a Cup

Putter Butter

Jelly

Mug

This dessert is exactly how it sounds—a peanut butter and jelly sandwich minus the bread, and mixed in a cup. The results are surprisingly tasty.

Paper Script*

Can you help me?

There is a book I would like to read

Hidden among the paper trees

Aisles at the bookstore

There is a story I would like to find

One lost text to make mine

Without a known author or title

The tale within is what I will write

So that someone just might

Know and tell me the answers

It is a paper world with paper streets

And newspaper sidewalks and writer’s beats

Manuscripts rare make big business there

A man must protect a manuscript rare

From all those who would dare

To murder the Raven like Poe

That is all I know.

Can you help me?

*[Note]: The story described in this poem is actually a book I found once on a shelf in B&N. It told about a city of writers where there was a manuscript so rare and valuable people would sacrifice everything to own it—and the opening mimicked the Lemony Snicket style of warning the reader “do not begin this book half-heartedly” because they might become trapped in that world. Perhaps there is some truth to this statement. I put the book back and am scouring bookshelves trying to discover it again.

So if anyone has an idea what book I mean or its author, please contact me. 

Forgotten Television: The Halloween Tree

Hidden among the granules of holiday television classics shines a polished gem inspired by a short story from Ray Bradbury—who also gave us The Martian Chronicles and other sci-fi epics. The Halloween Tree follows a group of children on a mission to rescue their terminally ill friend from the overworked but witty grim reaper Moundshroud (voiced by Leonard Nimoy), and wind up exploring various traditions throughout history that have contributed to our modern concept of Halloween.

From the pyramids of Egypt, to Dia de los Muertos, to Notre Dame—this special reveals the reasons why adults and children alike wear costumes every Oct 31^st, pass out candy, or just celebrate being scared silly. This show is appropriate for all ages, with Ray Bradbury weaving a gentle Halloween fairytale meant to enchant, rather than terrify.

It is more than the strong storyline or educational content that makes this a must-see flick. There are too few holiday shows nowadays (especially ones for Halloween) emphasizing the historical significance of our beloved annual celebrations, in favor of showing children or people focused on their more commercial elements. In Halloween Tree, getting as much candy as possible matters little to the kids, and their magical adventure across time is its own sweet reward.

As Moundshround says: “And that children, is Halloween—all rolled up in one. Night and day, summer and winter, life and death, 4,000 years ago, 100 years ago, or this year. One place or another, the celebrations are all the same.”

So while October 31^st has long since passed (or is still far away), if you are on the outlook for meaningful classics Halloween Tree is worth checking out.

Drawing a Portrait*

I am a drawing.

I can peer out at you through the ink letters. Can you see me?

Can you see the young girl with skin fair as buttermilk, wrapped in a comforter   

decorated by sakura blooms?

This morning I heard Fuji-san tremble,                              and I live in Los Angeles.

No.

I do not come from Japanese roots.

But I know tragedy—the heart-rending images flashing across a television screen, or just down the street. These are the moments I send gazes heaven-bound to make sure light still shines down upon us.

War. Earthquakes. Paranoia. Sadness.

If these things could bury us in darkness, the sun, moon, and stars would disappear into the void. We should then see nothing but what lies at our feet.

Yet all these sources continue to illuminate our world as always, revealing what we have never lost even when the earth moved—

People.

There are still people who feel for us

                                   Who reach out for us

                                    Who remind us we exist   

And as long as we exist

There is no disaster able to truly shatter our spirits

These are the words written along my arms, creeping towards my face.

I draw so you can see me.

I draw to send comfort

                 When I am at a lost

                                   For words

                                        To heal the wounds

                                                    Time and love must seal.

Can you see me?

*Originally published in Palm 2011

Gangway Broadway

      Hollywood. This was the city where stars were born and stories came to life on the big-screen, and where the streets were “paved with gold.” At least, that is what I thought in 1998 when my family traveled to Hollywood to watch The Lion King (the musical) performed on-stage. I’ll never know how my Aunts were able to afford the $80 dollar tickets to the show—a gift for which I am still grateful—but they saved enough to pay for seven seats. They were impressed by any show that won a Tony award, and The Lion King had received special attention at the awards that same year. At ten years old, the significance of a Tony award mattered little to me. I was just happy to see my favorite movie since elementary school done on Broadway.

            Watching my favorite movie on Broadway in Hollywood, the land of old movie stars, was a dream come true. I expected the long drive it took to reach Hollywood from Anza thinking as every mile flew past that we were closer and closer to the El Dorado of California. In my imagination the city would radiate majesty and beauty. What I did not expect was the lack of all this—the aged buildings that stood several stories high and seemed to lean on each other for support, or the faded hue to the sidewalks and store fronts. Hollywood was the first city filled with very tall buildings I had ever seen, but my amazement with that did not lessen my disappointment. The general atmosphere of Hollywood felt tired and worn, like it wanted nothing more than to rest after years of reigning from its pedestal of glory. Even the stars on the walk of fame looked dusty, as if spiders and their webs would take up residence there if the occasional visitor did not walk over the names (I was looking for Kermit the Frog, by the way).

            I watched a woman, who resembled the bird lady from Mary Poppins in her knitted stocking cap and bulky trench coat, save an injured pigeon. That was interesting.

            After our stroll down the Hollywood Walk of Fame, my family came to the Pantages Theater, where the Lion King would take place. We brought out our tickets and handed them to a well-dressed man at the entrance. Entering the main lobby of the Pantages Theater was similar to entering an enormous ballroom. Stripped of the carpet, I thought it could very well be the same ballroom from Beauty and the Beast. I did not have much time to consider the giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling, or to wonder what movie that reminded me of because before I knew it, my mother grabbed my hand and led me into the auditorium, commenting that the show would start soon.

            The main auditorium was pitch-black save for two sets of lights on either side of each aisle, and with some difficulty we found our seats. I was towards the end of the row, beside the aisle, and our row was halfway into the wave of velvety red seats in the room. Then came that natural period of commotion, with everyone’s voices bouncing off the walls—and I shivered because it was chilly.

            Finally, all the guests found their seats and quieted down as an actress came on stage, carrying a large walking stick. She was portraying the wise monkey Rafiki, and when she cried out the first line in “Circle of Life,” there was an explosion of lights over and around the stage. I’ll never forget how the room filled with warmth, or how I suddenly felt lost in the show. Lines of actors dressed in elaborate animal costumes came down the aisles. A papier-mâché bird with a long neck swooped overhead, and I could reach out and touch the elephants stomping past. The music, the lights, the actors,  and my growing sense of wonder combined into pure delight and an  unforgettable experience.

            My earlier disappointment faded right then, and never came back. The Broadway show restored my happiness by letting me glimpse Hollywood as it really was today. It may have seemed faded and decrepit on the outside, but inside was where the city truly shone. Peeling my eyes from the stage and glancing at my family—my Aunts, parents, and older brother—I wondered if they shared my sentiment, and from their wide-eyed expressions, I believe they did.