April 29

A letter to George Harrison, Mom moves in, and a bit of a rant.

1965

I didn’t post anything in my 1965 diary for this day, so instead I will offer this treat from the same year from my scrapbook.

Dear George,

I am great fan of yours and just thought I’d drop you a line to boost your spirits - if they need it. When I first saw you on “Ed Sullivan”, I didn’t think you were so hot. You see, it was at our curate’s house and his TV made you look 2 feet high and a foot wide, which isn’t flattering to anyone. On Monday morning everything was Beatles, Beatles, Beatles. I felt out of place. The teachers talking about Beatles, even. We had algebra problems about Beatles, discussions about Beatles in drama club, and even Beatles to draw as we saw them in art. Luckily for you though, I am a fanatic about some things. For instance, I open the wrapper of my ice cream bar the same way all the time. Well, it’s my nature to , whenever I see 2 or more of anything, I must pick out a favorite. There you were - 4 cute young men - exuberant and lively. I quickly learned your names and the basic facts - age, height, weight, and marital status. John was out, because I feel guilty about having a married man as my “favorite”. (Some girls don’t, however.) Ringo was out - everyone liked him and besides, he was (unfortunately) too short. Of the two left, you were the lightest.

So, I “adopted” you. I hope your parents don’t mind. Do you have any younger brothers? Mom says you are too old for me, which isn’t true. I’m too young for you. I’m fifteen (almost sixteen) and it doesn’t bother me at all to like a 21 or 22 year-old man. But I suppose to you I’m just a silly kid. Well, good! Because I am a silly kid. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t like the Beatles, I wouldn’t like you, and I couldn’t dream about you. Isn’t it wonderful being silly? I like it.

Well, I’ve wasted enough of my “precious” study hall for now (and enough of your precious whatever-you-do-with-it time). Please don’t write to me and call me a silly kid, crazy girl, etc. I’m a dreamer and would like to remain one. I hope you are, too. They’re my kind of people.

Thank you very much,

Beatle Dreamer #2,369,499 (American Division)

PS I just told my friend Marcia that if you ever showed this to anyone else (besides the other Beatles) I’d slit your throat.

Love,

Jo

Comment 2023

It’s in my scrapbook because I never mailed it. Naturally.

1984

I ought to be asleep! I flew up to Connecticut yesterday and drove Mom and her car back. Long day! But today was a sunny warm day, and we spent a lot of it outside. I am enjoying having Mom around, a sure sign up growing up.

There was an article about the “population bomb” in the newspaper today, and it’s made me think real hard about having a second child. Yet having only one seems so futile if we were just to spend more money on them! There are children elsewhere who are also my children, my future, as much as my own. What can I do to help them?

Now I really must go to sleep.

Comment 2023

My parents divorced in 1974, after 30 mostly miserable years of marriage. As was common in those days. They stayed together “for the children”; my brother and I have talked about this decision many times. Given that neither Mom nor Dad was capable of being even half a parent at any given time, we were probably better off with both of them. It wasn’t their fault; it seldom is, is it?

At any rate, after the divorce my mother went back to school and earned her BA in music, and a year later she moved to Maryland. She lived with us that summer, waiting for the senior housing she’d reserved to be completed. You might think she moved to be near me, but our daughter was the real attraction. In the end, she gave our children something my brother and I never had: a steady relationship with a grandparent. The chance to see your parent as someone’s child.

Having Mom nearby wasn’t always easy, but it certainly was precious.

1995

In a tent at Camp Aquasco. These girls are the greatest. We are really starting to act like a troop. Camping is such a great community builder.

1998

In my sabbatical year, I want to:
Complete and publish all 3 current projects in some form
Read the 601 comp list and the MA comp list
Revise the AMST 212 web site and readings

If I have time, I would like to:
Revise my other sites
Teach 2-3 courses at UUCSS
Write time travel book

Comment 2023

Are you out of your mind?

Judging from my CV, I wrote three things that got published, and did the revisions of AMST 212 (Diversity in American Culture) as part of a major state-wide initiative to create online courses. The other to-do items? Pfffft. I don’t remember even imagining a “time travel book”. I think I might have offered a workshop or two on voluntary simplicity at my church (UUCSS = Unitarian Universalist Church of Silver Spring). The intention to read the comprehensive lists for our graduate program came from my continuing feelings of inadequacy. I had been transferred to American Studies upon the demise of the Textiles and Consumer Economics department, and found myself not quite up to the tasks of directing AMST theses or teaching graduate courses. I was unfamiliar with most of the canon, especially the theoretical works. (I do not like reading theory.)

Maybe as I move through the 2000-2001 journals, I will find out what I actually did with that sabbatical!

2011 Facebook (post from a friend who reads The NY Times)

Great column by David Brooks! The man took you very seriously and nicely reported your research. YAY!

Comment 2023

The column. I remain flabbergasted.

2014 Facebook

No, Facebook, I do not want a tummy control swimsuit. Why let yourself go if you can't be out of control?

2015 Facebook

I got the news today, oh boy.
About how I finally made full professor.
What a long, strange trip it's been!

Comment 2023

My good news of the year sandwiched between the Beatles and the Grateful Dead. I was promoted to Associate Professor in 1987. When I moved to American Studies in 1992, I kept my rank and my tenure status, but was informed that since in my new “home” a book was required for each promotion, I would need to publish TWO books to reach full professor. So I said “fuck that” and did a whole lot of other things - fun, creative things! - for fourteen years. In 2006, the truly awesome Peggy Orenstein interviewed me for an op ed that became a book. We talked about pink and blue for two hours and she finally said, “ You need to write a book”. And so I finally did. 

(Thanks, Peggy!) 

Brewpub book party 2012

When that book was finished, I had enough material left for another one, so I wrote that one.

Brewpub book party, 2015

When that book was in press, I applied for promotion. Only 28 years after my last one. “Congratulations!” The letter said. “About fucking time”, I said. And announced my retirement, quick, so they couldn’t make me department chair.

Current situation, 2023

Retirement is good. I am going to campus today to return one DVD and pick up another. I get free parking now that I am “emerita”, and every once in a while I meet a former colleague for coffee or lunch. Even better, sometimes I hang out with a former student. I write every day for the sheer joy of turning emotions and thoughts into words. There might be a third book, but there doesn’t have to be. 

Also, Peggy Orenstein has a wonderful new book out. Unraveling. It’s about liminal spaces in plague time, and also about shearing, spinning, dyeing, and knitting. Just a lovely thing. I am hoping she shows up on Substack soon.

Comment 2024

And Peggy Orenstein is here! Enjoy…

2025

No more books. Just writing.