AN UNSUNG HERO:
- Kamaroh
- Naturalist by devotion, humorist by genetics, hero by default; Kamaroh is a Republican, a Presbyterian, a Polio surviver, a former US Marine, & Great Plains Badger. Earned an MA in English from SFSU. Student & friend of novelist Kay Boyle. His blog is a no profanity zone. There is little edgey emotionalism if he avoids thinking about his children. Kamaroh is a masculinist, places value on fraternity & believes living stag is a responsible and manly option. Particularly apreciative of the charm of Asian females, he discovered in 1999 he is able to love one small lady to the extreme that thinking about her can make his nose bleed. From boyhood forward, he values having male friends & male role models; though this blog is an extention of that belief; it is all welcome. Though containing male posturing, biased poetry, shakey facts, & faulted bachelor housekeeping, this blog's intent is to be good for your health & contains no spanky material. Pardon me if I am speaking too loudly because even with the high tech ... hearing aids the Veterans Administration provides to me, I do not have normal hearing.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
Discovering The Love Parade with Maurice Chevalier in Silent Colorado Farmhouse
When I visited the vacant farmhouse where I once spent each summer vaction from
school in which my twin uncles and my grandmother lived; my female cousins had removed all the antiques and all family warm and fuzzies. However, the picture shown above remained hanging in the cold living room with a window broken out. I had always maintained warm feelinngs that picture of the wolf on a snow covered hill and it seemed appropriate for the spartan life my financially comfortable relatives lived there at Amherst on the Colorado/Nebraska plains. This picture apparently was circulated to rural homes throughout the Western states during the Twenties at least.
school in which my twin uncles and my grandmother lived; my female cousins had removed all the antiques and all family warm and fuzzies. However, the picture shown above remained hanging in the cold living room with a window broken out. I had always maintained warm feelinngs that picture of the wolf on a snow covered hill and it seemed appropriate for the spartan life my financially comfortable relatives lived there at Amherst on the Colorado/Nebraska plains. This picture apparently was circulated to rural homes throughout the Western states during the Twenties at least.
Anyhow, it and a tape measure were the items left for me to bring back to California and I did that. To make a long---and not too pretty story short--in my custody the glass eventually was broken and the picture lay ignored for several years in my storage locker. It looked like trash and I nearly threw it out. However, in the process of having some Julie Speed prints repaired that belong to my good friend Barnie in Thailand, I decided to take this one along to the framer and have the glass repaired.
Well, I pulled the nails out that held the carboard backing in place, then removed it and laid it face down on the table, then I removed the paper print of the wolf, and lastly, the clinging shreds of broken glass. Now, I put the print back in the frame that was laying on the table face down, then I picked up the cardboard backing, startled, I may have nearly wet myself when I saw the segment of pristine movie poster above. However, even when they became very wealthy years latter, my uncles were not above scavenging materials for their projects, so it was comprehensible to me how this came about.
Now, I have the best relic yet that providence left just for me (my uncles' favorite and only nephew); and I am wondering if my austere grandmother may have at least seen one movie in her life, for she was raised in Illinois and where else could she have heard the Brit- saying, "Top of the morning to you," which is another other thing I remember as I sleepily stumbled from my cold bedroom to the warm kitchen as a small boy from that vacant farmhouse in Colorado where you could see Nebraska from the mailbox down at the corner of country roads.
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