Survey Says My Family's Not So Strange After All

According to a national survey commissioned by SleepBetter.org and conducted by Ipsos Public Affairs, one in four Americans (23%) say that Goodnight Moon is their all-time favorite bedtime story. The study also says that moms are doing the bedtime story reading 3-to-1 over dads. But what's most surprising, to me anyway, is the fact that even more popular among young children (age 7 or younger) than bedtime classic Goodnight Moon are the stories that their parents make up themselves!

Now our family has a long tradition of making up stories -- not only at bedtime, but we share them at the breakfast table, and when we spend time with extended family (holidays, etc.) we spend time sitting around making up stories together: One person starts with the first sentence, the next person adds the next line, etc., and you go around the room with each person adding a sentence until the story is finished. (Warning: This is where family issues will be aired; the little brother will mock his sister, mom will mock dad, grandma will mock mom, etc. -- which is all in good fun, unless your participating teens are surly.)

Anyway, I just thought that our kids liked our stories and storytelling time because, well, frankly, because they were weird. ...Apples not falling far from the tree, and all that. *wink*

But it turns out, this sort of "weird" is in the majority -- making us all "normal."

Now The Bedtimes Stories Project is collecting these stories in their Sleepy Tales Book.

To encourage folks to submit their original family bedtime stories (all authors retain the copyrights to their stories), The Bedtime Project's got the incredible Betty White involved! (You know I adore Betty White!)

Not only has Betty even written her very own bedtime story, Sleep Better Snowball!, but she'll be reading from the Sleepy Tales Book -- and she may also read one of the submitted bedtime stories!

If you you want your story to be evaluated as one of the stories that Betty White will read from at the May 26th event in L.A., you need to submit your story by midnight EST Sat. May 22, 2010.

Also, by the end of the program in July, one story will be selected to inspire an illustration by noted artist Bill Nelson. The deadline for a chance to have your story illustrated by Nelson is midnight EST, Wednesday June 30, 2010.

So submit you family's story asap. Who knows, it could win a really cool honor! Stranger things -- like our kids liking our made-up stories -- have happened. *wink*

Of Happy Madmen & Radio

(Hubby, unbeknownst to me until I was set to publish this, has already posted his thoughts on this -- but I'm not about to scrap my work! Plus, he has his own comments; and they're really only on part of the article.)

This past weekend, on our way back home from Wisconsin, hubby and I bought a stack of vintage Radio Guide issues. This is the story of just one article...

Happy Madmen, by Lorraine Thomas is the "sensitive" 1938 "educational" piece published in the weekending October 15, 1938 issue of Radio Guide on the how the "modern miracle" of radio is working wonders for America's 400,000 mentally ill.



It begins:

You don't say "insane asylum" any more. The polite and proper term is "state institution." But call it what you like, the fact remains that there are 400,000 or more patients in America's 397 homes for the mentally ill.

So first Lorraine tells us what's polite and proper -- then, with, "call it what you like," she dismisses any need to do so.

Four hundred thousand men and women, some violently insane, some merely teetering on the thin straight line between sanity and the lack of it -- but all of them hopelessly caged, locked up, barred from all but the remotest contact with "the world outside"! Four hundred thousand people living out their lives in rigid routine, living by a clock that has no meaning for them, marking off the endless days on a calendar that has no hope -- that's the picture.

(Wow. There's some compassion!)

But perhaps I shouldn't have said that. It used to be true, but things have changed a little.

Yup, because of radio.

:Pause:

One wonders if "a little" change means anything to people so hopeless, to people who find no meaning in clocks...

But the article asserts radio does wonders.

Lorraine does not.

She tosses out phrases like "mysteriously unbalanced people," and expresses such contempt I, at least, have to wonder if she is capable of any compassion at all. But then maybe that's why she was sent to survey the (as she says) self-described nuts on their radio program favorites. Perhaps cold and removed helps one facilitate surveys. Or maybe I'm to believe that the "several hundred patients" she interviewed drove her to her demeanor.

Some notable quotes:

"Most of the patients like Gracie Allen, all right -- but not because they feel any strange bonds of sympathy or understanding. They think she's nuts, and very, very funny."

"Very few patients like Amos 'n' Andy, and even fewer like Major Bowes. According to this critical census, Amos 'n' Andy are monotonous, dull, old stuff. As for Major Bowes, he's insincere, he's mean to the amateurs, he's not polite about ringing the gong, and he always says the same old thing in the same old way. 'All right, all right.'"



Radio Guide's Survey Of Sanitaria Reveals That People Who Are Mentally Distressed Favor The Following Programs:

Burns and Allen (CBS), H.V. Kaltenborn (CBS), and Guy Lombardo's Music (CBS).

I guess we know what the "C" in CBS is for.

While this article is supposed to extol the virtues of radio programming for the mentally ill, some of the stories seem more than a bit misplaced. Even crazily so.

While the story of Mrs. Diggs has its, "Oh, aren't the crazy charming!" value, it leads to a different place...

Take a look at Mrs. Diggs. Mrs. Diggs is a Negro, a man, who considers himself the most beautiful white woman in the world. He says he has letters from President Roosevelt, Will Hayes, Lindbergh and Joe Louis telling him so. What's more, he's the mother of all the white people in the world. "Mrs. Diggs" has other delusions too. At times he thinks he's Henry Ford, Rockefeller, and Edison rolled into one. He always insists he's the richest person in the world. About radio he was at first a bit dubious, until I pointed to a receiving set. Then he smiled knowingly, and acknowledged, "Oh, yes, the radio. I invented it."

You mightn't think such a delusion could be very dangerous, but that's where you are wrong. One can never tell about such things. There's another patient in this same hospital who had an even more fantastic delusion. This patient knew a lot more abut the radio than the case just quoted. This man was a radio fan. He wrote letters applying for a job to all the Hollywood radio stations, and once he even won an amateur contest. One morning, while listening to KHJ, he heard one of the popular songs of that period, "There's a Ring Around the Moon." To most of us, that song is no more important than any other -- but to Mr. Radiofan "There's a Ring Around the Moon" carried a very special and important message. Mr. Radiofan considered himself uniquely gifted person, and one of his secret talents was putting rings around the moon. Therefore KHJ's broadcast of the song could mean only one thing: they were sending out an SOS to him -- KHJ needed him to come down and teach them how to put a ring around the moon. Mr. Radiofan lost no time. He ran up a $27 taxi-bill going from Santa Ana to Los Angeles. Asking the taxi-driver to wait, he went into the studio. Soon talking with the secretary of the man in charge of employment, he asked for his job -- the job that was waiting for him. Impatient at the questions he was asked, he suddenly took out a knife, opened it, raised his arm and stared menacingly at the terror-stricken girl. She screamed, an announcer ran into the room -- and was stabbed in the throat. Before the maniac was finally overpowered, another bystander's scalp and clothing were in bloody shreds, and the announcer had bled to death. The real tragedy in this story is that the boy's death was so unnecessary: Mr. Radiofan was a paroled patient from a midwestern institution.

I think the real tragedy is Lorraine's article.

PS Searches returned nothing on such a murder at KHJ; but I did find this 1931 KHJ aircheck of Bing Crosby.

Flashed From BBC Headlines

Straight out of the Flash Gordon episode where Aura and Terek find they are drawn to each other... they are about to kiss... when Flash bursts in telling them to stop because they are brother and sister, comes this story from the UK.

I know, I know; mock me for watching Flash on Friday nights... but what else is there late night on Fridays but the Sci-Fi channel? It's campy deliciousness.

I'm A Good Mom, Charlie Brown

It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is on TV and Des is watching it.

I never liked Peanuts. I know it's anti-American to say so; Charles Schultz is like the Norman Rockwell for my generation. But I've always found it incredibly sad. Lucy taking the ball away, that snotty girl telling Charlie Brown he'll never ever be elected student body president, Schroeder having to put up with Lucy's obnoxious hanging around -- all sad. The comic in the paper wasn't much better than the specials either.

The only redeeming thing was Snoopy. But even his brother Spike was sad and lonely... always in search of a home.

But not letting the kids like &/or watch Peanuts is probably tantamount to child abuse, or at least neglect. So it's on the TV. And I just try to pretend I don't want to go cry somewhere.

Happy Birthday, Cat in the Hat!

Inspired by the Life-magazine article Why Can't Johnny Read?, Dr. Seuss' The Cat in the Hat turns 50 today.

To celebrate, you may buy the book -- but most importantly, spend some time today reading with your child. And if he or she is 'too old for that, mom,' spend time reading in front of your child so they know the love & importance of reading.

Last weekend, my six year old son read to me -- an entire book for the first time. (I did my best not to cry with happiness through the whole thing.) He only consented to read one book to me, but afterwards I made sure he 'caught' me reading myself. And then, something even more miraculous occurred: we had a conversation about a book. Our first real conversation about a book!

I was reading a a biography of Tiptree (a copy borrowed from Gracie, who finally did her review) and Hunter came in the room. He looked at the book and said, "There's no pictures in there." Derek laughed. And I showed him that there were indeed photos, and he asked what the book was about.

"A lady who, a long time ago, went to the deepest jungles of Africa -- at a time when no other white people had. Africa was so 'new' that there were no elephants or gorillas or lions in zoos and not many here had seen them. She was just 5 years old and had to be carried in a hammock-type sling by men who had never seen a little white girl. She liked Africa, but was angry she couldn't hunt like her dad -- and her mom. She grew up and became an author. She wrote science fiction stories -- stories about men & women who traveled in spaceships to different planets. But she couldn't write as a woman, so she used a man's name to write and publish her stories. She was a woman, but everyone thought she was a man."

"Cool," he said, with eyes as big as saucers. "Is she still alive?"

"No," I said.

"How did she die?"

"I don't know, I haven't read that far yet..."

"Will you tell me?"

"Sure," I said. My eyes welling with tears... We had had our first real book conversation. Now I know he understands the power of reading.

The sad thing is, now that I've finished the book and know how she dies, I am hoping he won't ask me. A murder suicide is not something I want to share with a six year old.

Coloring For Grownups

Spending time with all three children can be difficult. We've got the age differences (5, 9 & 16), the abilitiy differences to pay attention (with the oldest), and then of course, the boy wants cars while the girls have limited interest in them (and he has a low tolerance for Bratz dolls and 'girl things'), so what do we do? Lots of crafts, and coloring.

To make it more interesting for myself, I like to title my 'art'.

The first captures my thoughts on medical care in this country, and is titled "My HMO"



The second, named for the way I colored it & hubby's reactions to it, is called "Flamboyant Aliens Take Our Hot Pants:



With this new trick, I know I'll enjoy coloring more *wink*