TBT – All The Cancers

In the 1980s I wrote a weekly column for the local paper.  I know, that whole sentence that reeks of nostalgic and ancient terms:  1980, newspaper, column. Think of it as an early blog. Only with more readers.   For Throwback Thursday I thought you’d enjoy a taste of the past.  I don’t know how much I enjoy reading over my old material.  But it’s interesting to learn how little things really change.  Comment if you agree or disagree, then dig out your scrunchie  and welcome to the 80s.

I had forgotten about hairdryers in my rush to be one of the first to worry about the cancer implicationsin the 1980s Everything Caused Cancer
associated with cell phones and drinking too much wine.  Or not drinking enough wine, or calling friends to discuss how we should worry about drinking  which at that point  I needed a drink.

Things are neither good or bad but thinking makes them so. I have learned that over thinking causes more cancer than anything else evidenced by the fact that cancer has not been cured and  its causes are still debated, both in the medical field and in popular magazines. Hair dryers, red dye number 2, asbestos, apples. A no-win conversation.

As a parent, everything was fraught with either meaning or danger.  And I am so sorry that it hasn’t changed. It seems that parents today are as freaked out as we were thirty years ago.  I miss the 50’s when parents were not freaked out. They  smoked during pregnancy, let their children use plastic bags as space helmets and  bought lawn darts for Christmas.

Now THOSE were the days.

Now?  Not so much.  Maybe we need to just acknowledge that life is dangerous.  No one gets out of here alive. And if the conversation will not change,  we need to find strategies to work within the danger, make choices about the health or health claims of the food we ingest and eat our dinner.  Because  no matter what we invent, no matter what we ban, something new,  interesting and very tasty will pop up and become the new, new panic.

Let’s all raise a glass of red while we wait for our cheeseburger order and live. I really didn’t feed the boys Cheez Whiz.  But I never, ever, gave up the blow dryer. Not many of us did.

Blow dryers are no longer dangerous.  Just saying.

 

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TBT – Princess Diana and Me

Princess Di

In the 80s I wrote a weekly column for the local paper.  I know, that whole sentence that reeks of nostalgic and ancient terms:  1980, newspaper, column. Think of it as an early blog. Only with more readers.   For Throwback Thursday I thought you’d enjoy a taste of the past.  I don’t know how much I enjoy reading over my old material, but  it’s interesting to learn how little things really change.  Comment if you agree or disagree, then dig out your scrunchie  and try on the 80s for a minute.

My sister-in-law called me minutes after the news broke.  We just returned from a Labor Day family picnic, I had just seen her, so the only reason for a call was for an emergency.  I held the cordless phone and eyed the bags of wet bathing suits and extra food that was still piled on the kitchen counter. The boys had already run upstairs to avoid showering.  Did you hear the news?  Oh my God, did you hear what happened?

If I were to ask  any of my sorority sisters where they were when they heard  Princess Diana died, they would be able to tell me. She had belonged to us.  She was our generation and like many good, anti- monarchist Americans, we slavishly followed the British Royal Family.  We loved Diana, we followed her fashion choices, her parenting style, her  her triumphs.  We admired how she lived after the divorce, how she  manipulated the media before it was a thing. Her whole like was a work of art.  We wanted to be her, to live like her.

Until she didn’t. Until we realized in a terrible crash, that her fairy tale hadn’t been re-purposed like Disney, it was a Grimm original:   the mermaid dies for love, the princess doesn’t wake.

I know the sisters of Delta Delta chapter watched William marry Kate.  I was interested in their courtship but did follow the details as closely.  Reading the occasional breathless article in People Magazine was enough.  But I watched the wedding.  I cared when George was born. I cared that William wanted a different marriage that that of his parents.  I understand William vowed to posthumously elevate his mother to HRH status when he ascends the throne.  I know I’m not the only fan who  would love to see that.

To learn more.
Visit us on iTunes – Newbie Writers Podcast – new episodes start again in January 2017
Check out our upcoming book Don’t Write Like We Talk that will be published eventually. All you need to do is wait . . . Like us.
Subscribe to this blog
Or just follow me on Newbie Writers Group on Facebook
And Instagram #catharineBramkampWriter
And Pinterest Catharine Bramkamp
The theme is, Catharine Bramkamp

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