I understand that at no time in my life has it been more important to stay on top of current events than now. But come on, Trump and his MAGA clowns 24/7? No. I can only handle the morning news now days in small bites I preferably read as that allows me to sift through what I feel is important and what is not.
The TV chooses what I see, hear, ingest. It is my opinion that the international and national news outlets don't just report the news, they manipulate the issues and facts they want us to pay attention to.
Most mornings I still turn on the tube in the kitchen, but I often choose mindless entertainment that won't fire me up for the rest of the day. Old re-runs from days gone by are a favorite. I cannot watch them for long, but it is nice to remember days when being clueless about the real world was my norm, not my exception.
This morning on the "suggestion bar" at the top of the screen, "Leave it to Beaver" caught my attention. Surely, the "Beav" would not fire me up as he, Wally, Lumpy and Eddie engaged in the harmless hijinks of middle class white kids growing up in the pasteurized, lily white1950s and early 60's. Low stress, moronic viewing for sure.
Starting with a blank space in my head has been a great way to begin my days of late. That makes it easier to sort through and file the inevitable sensory overload I will have to deal with throughout the day. This morning's episode was from Season 6, Episode 9; "Beaver joins a record club".
As I sipped my coffee and watched Beaver get sucked into a scam, I was reminded of the time when my nine year old self fell into the same trap as Beaver, but it was stamps, not records.
In the show, Beaver joins a record club. The cost is only 89cents a week for the selected 45 rpm record. When Beaver opens his first package, inside, along with the one record, a whole album is included "for his approval." Beaver cannot believe his luck. He pays no attention to the card that indicates he has to cancel the album or he has to pay for it. Being happy as if he has a brain, Beaver continues to ignore the cards he finds in each new package that comes. At some point he gets a letter stating that his account is past due and he owes them $17.89. Beaver doesn't have $17.89.
I decided after seeing the ad to the right numerous times in most of the comics I read that 10 cents was a pretty cheap price to pay for 225 stamps. What better way to add to my pitifully small stamp collection than buying 225 stamps. That would beef it up for sure.
I taped a dime to an index card with my address on it, put the card in an envelope and mailed it. I cannot remember how long it took for the stamps to show up, but they did.
I remember the envelope seemed awfully fat. The reason became obvious when along with the 225 stamps, more than a few glassine envelopes fell out with them. Inside those envelopes marked "For Approval" were many more stamps. I remember specifically it was that purchase where I scored my first plate block (4 new stamps still attached to the sheet with the serial number).
I could not believe my luck. This was fantastic. And just like Beaver in episode nine, I failed to pay attention to the page stating all the conditions that came with my ten cent batch of stamps. Apparently the stamps in the fancy envelopes were not included as part of the 10 cent purchase. If I did not send them back by a certain date, I would owe them more money ........ lots more money.
I failed to send them back. About 2 months later my dad received a registered letter just as Beaver had also received in episode nine. Only instead of the $17.89 the Beav owed, my father was now on the hook for over $200. They had found him and were threatening legal action if the bill was not paid promptly or sooner.
There were some very ugly moments that followed. Dad really lost it and I hid under my bed that night. It was odd, but the next day I guess he had cooled down. He came into my room and woke me up early. He apologized for blowing his top. I remember it well, because to that point in my life I had never heard him apologize. He told me I screwed up but that who he should be angry with were the sleaze bags who sent me the stamps in the first place. He went on to tell me I was in trouble and some grounding might be in my future, but I was not to worry about this, he had my back.
My father was true to his word. The stamp company was hit with a lawyer type letter indicating court proceedings would ensue should they attempt to take advantage of a minor who could not legally enter into a contract as I was under the age of consent. In other words, he told them they could pound sand, they would be receiving no money from him.
We never heard another word from them and I was allowed to keep all the stamps. And even though the ads at the back of the latest Superman issue still enticed me and made me want what they promised, I never again ordered anything from the back pages of a comic book.
Keep it 'tween the ditches ............................
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As I considered what music to play, I remembered the best live performance I ever experienced, but was not there at the time. I first heard this version of Santana's "Soul Sacrifice" when I went to see the Woodstock movie back in college in the 1970s. I was high on LSD and, well, Damn is all I can say. I think I still have flashbacks when the 17 year old drummer kicks in his solo.
Not playing this at WOW should be, oughta be a Federal crime.
1 comment:
It is called something like bait and switch and is illegal now. Your father had the right idea. Good man.
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