The city I love to hate

smiley-face-1
An original Harvey Ball smiley face (image: The World Smiley Foundation)

Worcester: A stale lifeless zombie with empty eyes longing for fresh blood and tasty brains to create life once again and live up to the potential it had for so many years prior. Through no fault of her own, the townspeople have beaten her into this vegetative-zombie state and so she will remain until a hero can save her.

Before we move on, let’s get one thing straight, the zombie’s name is pronounced Wista. Not Wor-cess-ter, nor Wor-chester. She gets very angry when you mispronounce her name. I won’t lie, I get very angry, not her.

I didn’t always hate the city of Worcester. When I was young it was a great place to raise a family. Parks with baseball games, super tall swings, ‘petting’ zoos full of goats, sheep, peacocks, deer and buffalo that roamed in their pens, throwing bread in the pond to feed the fish, swimming in the lake or being brave enough to enter the water using the tire swing… everything you would picture the Norman Rockwell picture of America to be like. A blue collar working class city and as the second largest city in all of New England, if you didn’t know everyone, you know a person who knew that person or someone related to that person. It was that kind of place.

Probably the second most iconic smiley face (Mona Lisa being the first) was created by Harvey Ball 50+ years ago in, you guessed it, Worcester! That big yellow ball with its quirky smile has been seen world-wide hundreds of times over. While there is much controversy over this well-known smile due to copyright issues, until history wants to give me a definitive answer, I give credit to Mr. Ball.

Here is a little background on Worcester:  The city is built on seven hills, they create the topography and explain why there are very few bicyclists among the traffic…their common English names are: Grafton Hill, Bell Hill, Airport Hill, Bancroft Hill, Green Hill, Pakachog Hill, and Vernon Hill. The 4-mile long lake that runs through it is Lake Quinsigamond, glacier created and home to the inter-collegiate regatta since 1859.

If you came from the Salisbury Street/west side area, you had money (period), if you lived on ‘the hill’ you were probably lower middle class, if you lived in the South end, more than likely you had a harder life but just didn’t know it at the time, and if you were from the Piedmont Street area well… it was known as the shall we say ‘working girl’ section of town, and like any good city, it knew to keep itself in check, not seeping into other neighborhoods.

Worcester is deep in history; it boasts such names as Robert Goddard, the father of modern rocketry, Abraham Lincoln who visited and spoke at City Hall (1848), it is home to Marshall “Major” Taylor who held seven world records for his professional bicycle racing and the second African-American to hold a world record in any sport (1899), and John Adams worked as a school teacher and studied law (1755-1758), just to name a few.

The Blackstone Canal (1828) allowed the city to thrive and become a huge source for textiles, shoes, and clothing and known to be the largest inlet port on the east coast. This canal also led to a huge immigration of Irish, French, and Swedish in the mid-19th century.

In 1831, Ichabod Washburn opened Washburn & Moen which shortly thereafter became the largest wire manufacturing company in the country, then brought more manufacturing to the area and became the center of machinery and wire products for companies such as Wyman-Gordon, American Steel & Wire, Morgan Construction and Norton Company. The Royal Worcester Corset Factory (1908) was the largest employer of women in the United States at the time.  If you have ever had a soda made by Polar Beverages (1882), you are drinking from a fourth-generation family owned business that abuts Rte 290 and has the smiling blown up mascot Orson the Polar Bear waving to you (who has been the butt of many college pranks and stolen many times over). In the years 1949, 1960, 1965, 1981, AND 2000 Worcester was voted All-American City!

You want inventions? We gave you Candlepin bowling in 1879 (which is still a New England thing where you bowl with pins that are a different shape, the ball fits into the palm of your hand and you throw three times as compared to twice with 10-pin bowling), the first massed produced Valentine Day card in 1847, the first organized protest against the U.S. Government (known as Shays Rebellion), the first monkey wrench (1840), the first envelope folding machine (1853), the typewriter as we know it today (Charles Thurber 1940) the first pressurized space suit developed at David Clark Company who are still leaders in aerospace developers this day and age, delicious Table Talk pies of all flavors (to include the one of the best Boston crème pies you will ever taste) and more…

It is home to some of the best and brightest who attended the schools: Worcester Polytech Institute (WPI), College of the Holy Cross, Clark University (Albert Einstein spoke here), University of Massachusetts Medical School (and Nobel Prize winner for Medicine 2006), Assumption College, Worcester State College, Becker University, and Quinsigamond Community College – all right here within the city limits!

But what have you done for me lately and why all the hate? Sadly, as hard as this city tries to regain some of its grandeur, the residents will not allow it, and they are in essence, the living breathing ‘city’. More drugs, more crime, and more violence pushed the working class (the backbone and those financially sustaining the city) to move out and rely on being subsidized by state and federal monies instead.

Does she try very hard to cater to the families of young children with classes at the library and Y, yes. Does she cater to the many colleges with plenty of bars to decompress from finals, yes.  She also has one amazing (and second largest in New England) art museum established in 1898, the Higgins Armory which was the one and only of its kind, (closed only recently 1931-2013) and was dedicated to arms and armor in the country, one ‘acoustical masterpiece’ known as Mechanics Hall, one theatre for plays/comedians (Hanover Theater), one civic center (the Centrum as it will always be called I don’t care who has the bigger check to rename it) but that is pretty much it.

Back in the day, the Downtown/Main Street area would ROCK; live music, DJs, dance clubs, all genres of music and all within walking distance of one another. These days, walk around on Main Street on any given night and you may find one or two places to have a drink but the distance between them and any other establishment would be cause for concern as there are blocks and blocks of abandon buildings or shops that close at 6:00 pm.

Thus the zombie is born…dutifully obeying its master, not growing, not thriving, day in and day out simply existing…and it just breaks my heart…no big yellow smiley face here Mr. Ball.

 

In response to today’s prompt-We Built This City: What do you love most about the city / town / place that you live in? What do you like the least about it? If you were mayor, what would be the most important problem you’d tackle? How would you tackle it?

 

The price of a vacation

ArubaSunset

To sit on the balcony drinking a cup of coffee early in the morning

To feel the warm breeze and watch it blow through the palm trees as they sway

To listen to the birds chirping and flittering about the grounds finding their breakfast

To spot lizards that walk through the grass or come down from the trees as their bodies slowly warm

To spy on the vacationers from my personal ‘crows nest’ and watch them stake their claim on a chair by the pool or on in the sand on the beach

To watch the sun slowly starts to make its way up and over the room just for me

To take a picture of the ball of pink, yellow, gold, purple, lighting up the sky as it sets

And to take a long deep breath of the wonderful day that lay behind

And look forward to another amazingly beautiful new day that awaits me…

There is no price tag too high to cement the spectacularly happy memories I will have from that day… and forever more

Happiness is a dirty smiling face

In response to today’s prompt question, this is what happiness means to me:

???????????????????????????????They say the first thing that pops into your head is usually the correct answer and this was it.             Happiness is a dirty smiling face.

One of the many adventures Goose and I have had together, destination: Aruba. The endeavor that was in store for us on this particular day involved several broken down ATVs, a swim in the Natural Pool, stepping on a sea urchin (and therefore having them stick 4 inches out of her foot), and the guide forgetting his wallet at the beach and having to wait until dusk until he arrived back to guide us to the garage. Although Goose was in pain from the sea urchin, she didn’t complain, still drove the ATV back, and then dealt with the ER wait and doctor’s remedy of, ‘sorry there is nothing we can do, it has to work itself out’….

Yup she is a trooper, amazing, my daughter, my Goose, and my travel partner until the end.

Happiness is indeed a dirty smiling face….through the good times and bad….love you more

 

The thought of Ireland haunts me

I was inspired today by Lisa at Sunshine Travels and the daily post, to write about that one place I would love to go before it is too late. That place for me is Ireland. I can’t explain why. All of these years when the name ‘Ireland’ gets mentioned there is a sadness in my heart, a deep sadness inside that feels like… like I miss home and I can’t go back.

I envision it to be a very simple romantic place. The mist along the hundred-shades-of-green rolling hills, the smell of peat that lingers in your mind like your favorite men’s cologne, being surrounded by ghosts of a thousand years past, singing sad songs while having a pint in the local pub, and of course… the far off wail of the forlorn pipes….that is how I see Ireland. Maybe I have just seen too many movies…maybe it will not live up to my dreams, but there is only one way to find out.

ireland

(image: NationalGeographic.com)

Reposted in answer to the daily prompt: Tourist Trap, What’s your dream tourist destination — either a place you’ve been and loved, or a place you’d love to visit? What about it speaks to you?

King of the Kasbah

crown

It was Morocco, 2006(ish), and the trip was in full schedule mode; A trip to the southern coast of Spain and all its side trips were added to the agenda.  How could I possibly pass up a quick day trip over to Morocco when you can practically see the coast of Africa from where we would be staying! Warnings from family and close friends not to take the side trip, along with the U.S. government travel website, were not heeded as who knows when I would ever have the opportunity (and bragging rights) to visit in the future!

Decision made, and with my Goose (daughter) in tow… off we go. We joined a bus group to take us to the port in Spain to catch the high speed ferry to Tangier. While filling out the typical paperwork for customs, one young lady, thinking she is the Don Rickles of her generation, says loudly enough for all to hear, “occupation… let’s put terrorist” – (white trash family laughter, nonfamily members-crickets) yes that is hysterical. Please do not quit your day job and shut your trap you are going to get us all killed, moron.

Disembarking from the bus and running away from the Chuckle Hut as quickly as possible to disassociate ourselves, we board the high speed ferry to whisk us away to a new adventure. Goose hears a man saying he wants to get his passport stamped – a great reminder of travels past! Wrapped up in the thought of visiting Morocco (and yes, a bit naïve) we jump on board that suggestion – “would you mind doing ours too?!” (as we blindly handed over our passports to a complete stranger for a .25 rubber ink stamp and about to enter a country we were told to stay out of…not one of my finer moments.) Thankfully, he was as upstanding as we had hoped and returned with an armful of passports all stamped (yes!).

First stop, camel ride on the beach. Although we did not take advantage of this (because Goose made the excellent call not to smell like camel for the rest of the day) we did get some really cool pics. We were told that the camels are treated very well because they have excellent memories and will not cooperate with a heavy-handed owner (animal cruelty is always a concern of mine).

Our guide was amazing and walked us through all the back alleys of the Kasbah filling our minds with so much history, culture, and levels of knowledge it is difficult to remember all the details. There were snake charmers, sellers of spices, local fruits and flowers, and the like, all tugging at our sleeves and bags to get us to stop and buy their wares. Luckily, Goose came to the rescue and spoke to them in French (their second language) letting them know we were not interested but thank you very much anyway. They seemed to welcome abiding by our wishes in their own language much better than others as the American speaking visitors were still being followed and taunted.

Last stop before the bus departed was the carpet store. Traditional locally-handmade Berber rugs filled the room in all sizes, shapes, designs, and colors you would probably not see elsewhere in the world. After the host gave us the history of the Berber rugs, Goose and I were taken aside, and felt a little uncomfortable as we were being corralled to an area surrounded by rugs to the ceiling and no other workers or visitors in sight. (I thought we would never come back from that one-maybe the warnings were right!) But with a little bit of haggling, we seemed to get an affordable price and off we were to get back on the bus.

Of course no story ends that simply when Goose and I travel. In exchange for my beloved Life is Good® baseball cap I was offered several different kinds of jewelry, to which I said no every time. However, the winner of that much treasured hat was the most persistent and leaned in through the door with one last plea just before it closed. I tossed it in his direction and waved good bye. He held it up as if it was a crown and placed it on his head – the new King of the Kasbah.

In response to the Daily Post Question: Use It or Lose It  – Write about anything you’d like, but make sure the post includes this sentence:

“I thought we’d never come back from that one.”

(crown photo: animal-kid.com)

The thought of Ireland haunts me

I was inspired today by Lisa at Sunshine Travels and the daily post, to write about that one place I would love to go before it is too late. That place for me is Ireland. I can’t explain why. All of these years when the name ‘Ireland’ gets mentioned there is a sadness in my heart, a deep sadness inside that feels like… like I miss home and I can’t go back.

I envision it to be a very simple romantic place. The mist along the hundred-shades-of-green rolling hills, the smell of peat that lingers in your mind like your favorite men’s cologne, being surrounded by ghosts of a thousand years past, singing sad songs while having a pint in the local pub, and of course… the far off wail of the forlorn pipes….that is how I see Ireland. Maybe I have just seen too many movies…maybe it will not live up to my dreams, but there is only one way to find out.

ireland

(image: NationalGeographic.com)

Reposted in answer to the daily prompt: Tourist Trap, What’s your dream tourist destination — either a place you’ve been and loved, or a place you’d love to visit? What about it speaks to you?

Have passport, will travel

Everyone who knows me, knows that I am all about the vacation. Step that up to a ‘free vacation’ and not only do my ears perk up, but my spidey-sense kicks in with the “what’s the catch” question mark over my head.

Seems my love for travel and natural ability to organize a trip into a fantastic nonstop fun and exciting time has spread and an offer to do the same for a close friend who just came into some money is looking for that someone special to take the reins and make it the vacation to never forget.

All expenses paid? All I need to do is organize? – my specialty! Where do we go first? So many choices! Where? When? What do I pack? Cold gear? Hot gear? Exotic? Immunization shots? Hurry up and tell me because my passport is burning a hole in my suitcase!

It was a once in a life time opportunity and an offer I couldn’t refuse!

Response to the Daily Post question:  “An Offer I Couldn’t Refuse.”

Set a timer for ten minutes, and write it. Go!

 

and so much more to come

It’s a big world out there and we all need help to navigate it. I have the aspirations for this blog to inform, educate, and share everything from travel, books, wine and let us not forget, to vent about the bumps in life that we all have our own opinions about. Hopefully those that may read this will share their thoughts and advice about any and all topics.

But where to begin? Well, more tweaking is involved, more surfing the site, and more importantly, much more to come.

“Wine is constant proof that God loves us and loves to see us happy” Benjamin Franklin (cheers to that one!)