LatheredUp

sookie in a lather

public domain image credits library of congress prints and photographs online:secession bubble know nothing soap

i am a child of the south, a "boomer", born in 1958, a child of the television age. This was a time when "African-Americans" referred to themselves as "colored". In fact on my birth certificate under racial description, "colored" is the word that is used. Today I still affectionately refer to myself as a "colored child". From my pop's side, part Blackfoot Nation---i affectionately refer to that part of my heritage as 'injun'---hey i'm never going to be described as politically correct and have no desire to be.

My mother is a woman who was far ahead of her time in terms of "feminist" survival. Long before it was fashionable, she was a single parent. She did have support, and not just financial from my pop, but they did not live together as husband & wife. In fact they never did take that walk down the aisle...but that's another story. Mom was a woman who worked outside the home long before most women of her generation would have even thought of making that choice, much less do it. She fully appreciated the value, neccessity, and strength of a loving extended family. She did not need Hillary, or anyone else to tell her it "takes a village".

When mother was at work, i, the youngest of 4 (2 sisters 1 brother & me), was alternately cared for by mother's eldest sister, "auntie" as we used to call her, and our nextdoor neighbors. They were like family to us. We called the elder woman 'grandma' (to this day I do not know her given name), and her daughter Miss Elsie, or more usually 'aunt'Elsie. They were very religious folk. God fearing, bible reading, honest, and i and my family loved them dearly. 'Aunt'Elsie always made sure my days were full of activity, but one of my favorite times of the day was when she would look at her watch and say "oh my, we'd better hurry, it's almost time for my stories". By her 'stories' she of course meant the day's soap operas. For Elsie and her mother, watching the soaps was sort of a guilty pleasure, but at the same time they made it seem sacred. It was a ritualistic activity. Her favorites were The Edge of Night The Secret Storm and General Hospital

Paul Harvey would say I am giving you this "back story" so that you may better understand its importance, and how it relates to the spirit of this blog. Which is to say we all have drama of some level going on in our lives, so sometimes the plotlines of our favorite soaps may seem either tame, empathetic, or absurd, depending on where life may take you on any given day.

LatheredUp

Monday, June 18, 2007

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