Tag Archives: history

One Hundred and One Years Ago

Posted on by
4

There was no Great War, World War 1 or World War 2.

The Titanic had not yet sailed.

There was no Republic of China.

The New York Yankees were known as the New York Highlanders.

The first motion picture studio, Nestor Motion Picture Company, opened in Hollywood.

Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., and the rest of the Rat Pack weren’t even a gleam in their parents’ eyes.

There was no Great Depression.

The Hindenburg had yet to be created.

There were only 46 Stars on the American Flag.

Elvis’ parents weren’t born yet.

Many other significant events, people, and places had yet to occur.

But this was one that had:


My Enclopaedia Britannica, Eleventh Edition, was published in twenty-nine volumes. It is indeed my treasure.

“There’s no history of anything until it happens. Then there is.” [Rachel to Roark, Volcano, 1997]

And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!

My [Un]Broken Heart

Posted on by
6

I just published Hidden Files, about discovering some old writings I’d forgotten or pushed to the sides. I found writings I’d intended to publish on a former Blog. It was a blog that had three readers, and lasted four or five months. For obvious reasons, I shut it down and started Frankly, My Dear… which seems to be doing so much better. [Thank you, kind readers!]

I came across these two in particular. I apologize they’re a bit unclear; the only way to capture the entire essence and word structures was to save them as a PDF-photo and enlarge them here. It makes the letters a bit blurred; but still readable.

I was surprised at the raw honesty of these two posts. The cursing of emotions that I was willing to announce. But mostly, I’m pleased because I can now look at it from The Other Side instead of In The Moment. I am no longer That Girl in That Moment. I am now The Girl Who Grew.

I’m at peace with different events in my life. I’m at peace with the absence of what I once thought was love. Now, before you get all riled up in my defense, I will add this disclaimer: I’m very good friends with the “enemy” of these posts. He knows I write about him now and then. We talk often. He was a lousy almost-boyfriend; but he’s always been the best of friends.

And I’m at peace with the experience. It was years ago when I was younger and unsure of myself. I had little to offer someone else, other than, as he affectionately tells me, requests for High Maintenance.

I read these posts yesterday. And I smiled.

Because I’m not who I was. I’m who I am. And even that’s not Who I’ll Be.

And I’m okay with that.

Because I’m living for the future.

And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!