Comments on: Happy Birthday Irene Marie

By: mike

mike — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 05:10:38 +0000

Thanks, Pivo. It’s nice when s story can trigger memories in the reader. My mom knew you rmom. We all did. Great person. Sounds like she had a tough youth too. Glad to see you are enjoying the non wage laboring life!!!

Your old buddy Mike

ps You want to read about a bad childhood, read Ham on Rye by Charles Bukowski.

By: Pivo

Pivo — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 06:17:10 +0000

Once again I enjoyed your story of your mother. It brings back memories of my mother also. Though her situation cannot be compared, in hardship with your mother’s, my mother’s family lost their house after my grandfather lost his job during the depression. The 5 kids were sent out to different relatives. But like your mother, the depression and privations of that never left her. They must have been friends, somewhat, with each other as I remember talking with your mother at my mother’s wake.

I think that must have acquired some of my mother’s frugal thinking. It seems that all of my life I have been betting on the shit hitting the fan by saving and not owning large homes or high end cars. I thank her for it now as that thinking has allowed me to get out of the working rat race while I still am young enough and healthy enough to enjoy the free time.

Thank’s for posting that story here.
Your friend;
Pivo

By: mike

mike — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 18:26:53 +0000

Thanks for this Mike. It’s interesting how kids don’t think about a person’s ethnicity, etc. when they make friends.

BTW, my grandfather, he of the stopwatch and Taylorism, was born in Scranton.

michael

By: Mike Ballard

Mike Ballard — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 00:47:15 +0000

Brings back memories of my childhood life in Harfod, Penna. Harford’s about 30 miles north of Scranton. I was born in Binghamton which is 30 miles north of Harford.

When I was a kid, we knew there were Catholics around. Most of them were Polish or Italian. We were Congregationalist. I asked my mom once, “What’s the difference?” and she told me, ” Catholics believe in Mary and have saints they pray to. We just believe in God.” One of my best friends was a Catholic, a Polish guy named Stan…Stan Pizanski. I admired Stan’s ability to play basketball; but he was a shy type. His father was a plumbler and Stan had to work, helping his pop on the weekends. We only saw each other in school. I was fortunate. My step dad just wanted to work on the family car on the weekends after his wage-slave time selling appliances at Sears. So, I got plenty of time to goof around and ride my bike.

My mom is 90 now. She’ll be 91 in April. Thanks for the peek into your life.