America’s Pastime

The two men most important to me (my husband and my son) have abandoned me and my daughter. Apparently there is something nearer and dearer to their hearts than we are.

I’m just kidding.

They’re off on a manly bonding adventure. To Kansas City.

Isn’t that where all men go for manly things to do?

I know, I know. You’re thinking barbecue. Or, you’re thinking we’re Italian, there is a large Italian community there, so we must have family there.

Wrong on both counts.

They’re there for the Baseball All-Star Game.

My son is so excited. They have great seats for the celebrity game, the home run derby, and the all star game itself. I’d tell you where to look for them on television, but you don’t know what they look like.

So what are my daughter and I going to do? We’ll be like Cinderella, of course. Cleaning and scrubbing and washing for their triumphant return.

Not.

I mean, of course some tidying will need to be done in their absence. I’m not a heathen. But if they’re on vacation, why shouldn’t we be, too?

My daughter had her purse packed the second they left the driveway. She has her route planned through the different malls she wants to hit for every day they’re gone. That’s right. Different malls every day.

I was thinking facials, manicures… she’s thinking BOGOs and clearance racks. And some high end stores thrown in to balance out her haul. (She just had a birthday. She’s ready to go.)

When the cat’s away the mice will play. And when the men are away, the ladies will shop.

What Do You Do With All Those Tomatoes?

Vandergrift, Pennsylvania when I grew up had a decidedly Italian presence. It was even more so when my parents were kids, and probably even more when my grandparents settled there, but still, when I was young, Vandergrift was pretty Italian. Even to this day they have the Festa di Italiana once a year, so the presence hasn’t completely faded. But I digress…

vegetablesThere were a lot of things I looked forward to in the summer, but one thing I hated as a kid. Gardening. There would be weeding and planting and peat-mossing. And then the picking. And picking. And picking.

Italians plant everything. We have huge gardens. We have to have parsley and basil, those herbs are staples, and they will take over your garden in a nanosecond if you aren’t vigilant. Of course we plant tomatoes.

On that rare occasion that we wanted something no one grew, we’d go to an orchard or farm and pick it ourselves. There was no reason to get bruised produce from the store when we could get what we wanted cheaper fresh from the vine. I spent many June weekends in Erie picking cherries right off the trees.

Many of my friends growing up were Italian, so they worked in their family garden, too. Everyone ate zucchini twenty-eight different ways all summer long. If you’re Italian, you know what I mean.

My friends today don’t understand. My kids barely understand. We don’t have a garden where we live, but we try to get the freshest produce we can. Meanwhile our friends and the kids’ friends are eating frozen dinners and sauce from a jar, or, even worse, just getting take out all the time. When my kids have friends for dinner, I always make sure to have a home-cooked meal instead of letting them order pizza (the pizza here isn’t great, anyway). At first my kids were mortified, but their friends loved it, and now everyone looks forward to eating here. They don’t get food like this at their homes.

Who knew fresh tomatoes were for more than sandwiches and salads?

Are You Thinking Godfather or Jersey Shore?

I know, I know. You hear Italian-Americans and you think Capone and Corleone or The Situation and Snooki. And you are either fascinated with one or both of those lifestyles or couldn’t care less about either. And then you don’t think about them at all.

There’s so much more to Italian-Americans than that.

My heritage is rich and full. Like so many Italian-Americans, we aren’t at the head of a major crime syndicate, nor are we stars of a reality TV show. My family came from Italy because of the same social, political, and economical reasons most families came to America. My great-grandfather came here alone, like so many men did, to find work before sending for his family. Once he was settled in Vandergrift, Pennsylvania, he toiled until he had enough money to bring his wife and son over. And once they were here, he kept working. He worked in the mill and grew his family and continued to provide for them until he got sick and died at a terribly young age, causing my grandfather, the youngest, to quit school at fourteen to support his mother, himself, and six brothers and sisters. And he did it without complaint.

That’s the thing about Italians. It’s all about family. You do for family. No matter what.

So my grandfather became the head of his family at fourteen. And even when I was born, the aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews all still treated him like the head of the family. Because he had earned that respect.

My grandfather isn’t with us anymore, but my grandmother still is. She tells me stories of how the wages were different for Italians then, particularly the dark southern Italians like we are. She tells me how the Italians were beaten in the streets and mistreated by other nationalities who had already settled here. That’s why Italians formed their own communities and started their own clubs and shopped in their own stores. It was a matter of safety in numbers and protecting their own. I’m grateful that it’s a different world today.

My family is almost all still in the Western Pennsylvania area. I’m the only one who has had to leave — much like my ancestors, for economic reasons. We went where the jobs were. We now find ourselves in an area without Italian markets and even the closest church is twenty minutes away. We are once again the minority, but it’s not like before.

And I am grateful.

But I haven’t forgotten my roots.

And that’s what I try to breathe that life to in my writing. So no one else forgets, either.

Corporate Identity Expert, Hah!

When I worked full time as a Marketing Communications Specialist for an engineering firm in Pennsylvania, my boss was one of the brightest minds in corporate communications. Under his tutelage, and combining my education and work history, I became a corporate identity master. I could brand anything with ease using any and every tool you could imagine, and probably a bunch you’d never think of.

So why is it that I, a master brander and professional writer, am completely bamboozled when it comes to branding myself using social media platforms? Is it one of those cases where the artist can paint everything but an accurate self-portrait because she can’t see the beauty in herself?

No.

I can see myself for what I am, including the plethora of flaws.

I’m like the millions of other authors out there who don’t get the whole platform thing. But maybe I should say didn’t get the whole platform thing. I’m learning.

Thank you Kristen Lamb for your tireless efforts. I’ve recently read both her books, and I have to say I’m motivated to get out there in the ether and build a successful platform. And I believe it will work because of the strategies suggested in her books. Check out Are You There Blog? It’s Me, Writer, and We Are Not Alone: The Writer’s Guide to Social Media. Worth their weights in platinum.

Hilarious and true. Did you forget the mummy… the one who wrote for so long to meet his deadline and got so cold while doing so that he wrapped himself in sheets until they turned into scraps of linen and he looked like a preserved corpse when his friends came to find him? Sometimes I think I’m that mummy/mommy. Great article Kristen. Love the WANAtribe site, too. I’ll be looking for your book, We Are Not Alone… a friend read it and said it’s great. Thanks for your hard work.

Happy Father’s Day!

 Happy Father’s Day! Today is the day set aside to celebrate dads. It was first celebrated in Washington in 1910 in response to Mother’s Day, but it sort of fell into obscurity. It gained national recognition in the 1930s, with the Father’s Day Council being founded in 1938. After years of debate in the government and media, President Lyndon B. Johnson issued a proclamation honoring fathers on the third Sunday in June as Father’s Day in 1966. And here we are today, the third Sunday in June, 2012, honoring dads.

I don’t do it because of a response to Mother’s Day. I don’t do it because of the media hype. I don’t do it because of the presidential decree. I do it because I have a great dad. And so does my husband. And my husband is a wonderful father to our kids.

They deserve some recognition for that.

So today, instead of trying to check items off my honey-do list, I’m going to tell my husband how much I appreciate him just the way he is. And I’m going to tell all the other dads in my life the same.

I hope you all have a great father’s day, how ever you choose to spend it.

Happy Flag Day!

Today is Flag Day, or the commemoration of the day the United States adopted the use of the American Flag as a symbol for our nation. I am proud of my mostly Italian heritage, and I am proud of my Irish, Scottish, German and Dutch heritage as well, although I know very little about my father’s side of the family compared to my mother’s. But I am 100% American and proud of it, today and everyday. I appreciate the freedoms that I have and the soldiers who have fought and are fighting to give those freedoms to me (my niece being one of them). When I see the Stars and Stripes, I know what they represent, and I am grateful. I’m spending some time today thinking about our great nation, and contemplating where we’ve been and where we’re headed. I encourage you all to do the same… and to display a flag. Proudly.

Picture: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flag_Day_(United_States)

To Edit or Not to Edit, That is the Question

Of course you edit! What kind of ridiculous question is that?

I don’t mean ever, naturally. I mean as you write. I’ve heard this topic discussed a lot, and my friend Joy (joykeeney.wordpress.com) just blogged her way through her thoughts on the topic. What’s a writer to make of it all?

Here’s my two cents (and that’s about what it’s worth).

Most writers tell you not to edit as you go. They tell you to get the words on the page and revise later. They don’t want to break the creative process with the mundane chore of grammar, punctuation and the like. There is merit to that school of thought.

Some people, the edit-happy writers of the bunch, advocate editing as they write because it saves time later. Does it break creative flow? Possibly. Do you run the risk of losing the idea of the century? Yes, you do. So why risk it? Because if, in the course of editing, you discover a plot point error in chapter 2, it will save you weeks if not months of editing later.

Where do I fall? I tend to fix the little things I notice as I go, but mostly plow forward. Then I spend the beginning of each day reviewing the prior day’s work to fix the big things. It seems to be a happy medium, and it works for me. I’d recommend this technique to anyone.

Why do I think this post is only worth two cents? Because, while I think it’s great advice, writers seem to be creatures of habit and I don’t believe anything written here will change their ways on the matter. But writers are also dreamers, and I’m ever hopeful!

Keep writing, everybody. And editing!

Privacy Policy