The Clock That Couldn't Get The Time Of Day

Christmas time in Fresno was not the type of winter wonderland imagery that you see in Christmas movies, cartoons or even on Christmas cards.  There weren’t the beautiful scenes that just take your breath away when you see the glitter of the snow glistening in the sun light.   No, it was cold, foggy and dreary.  Even though we didn’t have Bing Crosby’s White Christmas, I loved Christmas!

It was 1979 and I was in the 7^th grade.  For the last 3 years I have been living permanently with Mama and her on again / off again boyfriend Bob which by then I considered my step-dad.  We lived in the projects across the street from the VA Hospital at 2219 N Angus.

Once December 1st hit my mama pulled out the artificial tree, decorations and bought Christmas cards.  When I saw the boxes out in the living room my heart would race as that meant I got to help Mama decorate.  

First things first I would get to do was assemble the 6’ plastic white noble fir tree.  It had a pole, with holes for to you put each limb on.  Each limb of a row was exactly the same size they gradually got smaller each of the ascending rows and it went together quite easily.  It was a very uniform and precise tree. 

I would give Mama a hard time about us not having Christmas lights to put on the tree.  She said if we had Christmas lights, we would not be able to put them on the plastic tree because the bulbs were too hot and would have melted it.  It was so obvious that it was a fake tree would the melting of it be such a bad thing?  It was not like it was the beloved snow man Frosty, so it wouldn’t make me cry when it melted and then didn’t come back to life.   (Ok fine, no lights for the abominable snow tree!)

I would also give Mama a hard time about all her decorations being boring.  All mama would put on her tree was gold glass balls, gold garland and a gold tree top.   Did I mention that everything on the tree was evenly spaced apart and the garland all hung down evenly to match all the way around?  I am going to have to be honest here and tell that I too am that way.  No hap-hazard looking decorations otherwise I would get sea-sick when I looked at it.  

Even though Mama’s tree was the complete opposite from the one that aunt Margaret would put up, I secretly loved it.  I got to bond with mama while decorating the boring tree so I couldn’t help but love it.  It was a splash of Christmas in our tiny apartment we called home.

Besides decorating the tree, I got to wrap all the presents for Mama, all but mine of course.  She would sit on the couch supervising me while I got to do all the work that I actually enjoyed.  She would dictate that certain people would get certain wrapping paper, like Grandma Renfro and our neighbor lady Mae Martin.  Their presents got the special wrapping paper and the prettiest bows as they were very special ladies.   

Each time that I impressed Mama with a fancy wrapping job I would try to outdo myself on each of the following packages.  (I call it a dart thrower’s mentality, the only person you should be trying to beat is you.)  Once the tree was decorated and all the presents were wrapped, (my favorite Christmas traditions) and the immediate bonding time with Mama would be over.   

There was a week left before Christmas vacation and then I would be headed off to aunt Margaret’s.  I needed to get Mama’s gift before leaving.  I headed to Decker Drug Store that was on the other side of the projects on Fresno St. and Clinton Ave.  It was the only store in my allowed walking-alone-zone that I could buy an actual present so that is where I went.  I only had $10 so I had to make it get the best present possible.  With sales tax being 6% at that time, the price tag couldn’t be over $9.40 or I wouldn’t have had enough money.

I scoured that store for over an hour looking at the different things to buy.  After being Shanda’s co-conspirator (and un-confessed instigator) in the shop-lifting incident that took place at the end of summer vacation – I was being watched like a hawk.  (That’s another story for another time)

The being watched didn’t bother me none because I had money and had no intentions of stealing anything (ever again)! 

I kept being drawn to the clocks, kitchen clocks to be precise.  Mama needed a new kitchen clock.  However, the only one I could afford was the electric square white one with black numbers, it was boring.   Not only was it boring it wasn’t her colors.  Mama loved brown and golds that were popular in the 70’s. 

After sitting on the floor in front of the wall clocks deliberating for quite some time, I finally made up my mind that the white clock was what I was going to give her.  No, it wasn’t the one I really wanted to buy her but hey, I was a 12-year-old kid and this was what I could afford.

I purchased the clock and walked home.  I came in through the front door and could hear mama and Bob playing cards in the kitchen.  I snuck the bag into my room and then went into Mama’s room to get the bag with all the wrapping materials in it.  I wrapped it as pretty as I could and put it under the tree.  I was rather pleased with myself with not only the present itself but in my mind, it was the prettiest one under the tree.

A couple days later, Mama noticed the present and picked it up.  Wait! That is against the rules!  You aren’t allowed to pick up presents especially ones that are clearly marked for you!    Point blank she asked, “Did you buy me a clock?”

She caught me so off guard that I smiled.  When I am trying to keep a secret or hide anything for that matter, I smile.   After I smiled, she asked, “What color is it?”  There was no sense in trying to lie as I was a horrible liar and in a defeated voice I responded, “White.”

I am going to tell you all right now that if I was not in the room right then and witnessed this with my very own eyes, I would not have believed it. 

I watched my mother meticulously open one end of that present.  She unsealed the tape without tearing paper.   She slid that clock out one end of the paper; she looked at it and then proceeded re-wrapped it exactly as I did when I first put it under the tree.  Then she took the present out from under the tree that was for our neighbor Mae Martin and carefully removed the name tag.  Mama put the gift tag to Mae on the present I bought her and put the gift tag to her on the gift for Mae.  

I am standing there in disbelief as I am watching her do this as if it was proper protocol.  She said, “Sorry hun but I like the clock I am giving her better!” 

I tried to be understanding as Mama told me how she saved up her Blue-Chip Stamps to purchase the kitchen clock.  It was getting harder and harder to find retailers that gave out Blue-Chip Stamps and she finally got enough for the circular brown and gold clock she had been saving for.  That clock was not only in Mama's colors it also had some personality.  It was her!

I knew how hard it was to get the Blue-Chip stamps especially when you only got one little stamp for every .10 cents you purchased.  It took you spending $120 in purchases to get 1200 stamps to fill a book.  

I don’t remember how many books she had to have to get that clock, but I do remember helping to glue in enough of those stamps to fill almost 10 books.  She must have been collecting those Blue-Chip Stamps for years.  I was hurt, but I let it go that Mama preferred her clock to mine.  She said that she didn’t have the money to get Mae a gift and was giving up her clock so that she could give Mae a present.  How could I hold that against her?

Time came and it was time for Christmas vacation.  My sister Sherry would come with her daughter Tasha and the four of us girls would have a mini Christmas celebration.  I had asked for money that Christmas so I could buy a microscope.   Sherry surprised me by buying me one.  Mama got to spoil Tasha, her only grandchild (at that time) with a few gifts.  Once our gift exchange was over Sherry would take me to Dos Palos. 

This particular trip we had to go by Sherry’s house to pick up Jerome’s birthday present she forgot to bring.  As I am standing in her living room, I am looking at her tree in disbelief. It was a tree with blue lights, blue garland, blue glass balls and a blue tree topper.  Are you kidding me?  I guess those nuts don’t far from the tree, do they?  Well at least she had lights on her tree!

I would be taken to aunt Margaret’s to spend Christmas with her, uncle Jess and Jerome.  Aunt Margaret's had a beautiful tree.  It was a live Nobel Fir tree, with lights, an array of different colors, shapes and styles of glass balls, and finished off with the silver tinsel icicles.  Some years they would put the fake spray snow on it and some years not bother with it.  I would often be found sitting by the tree just staring at it, daydreaming knowing that when I grew up, I would have a tree like hers.  (*Adult me would have Christmas trees being my own, nothing like any of them...story for another time.)

The two weeks would fly by and soon I’d be back home.  I couldn’t wait to go see the neighbor Mae and to see if she liked her gift.  I anxiously knocked on her door of our duplex apartments.  She answered in her sweet grandmotherly way.  I am looking at her kitchen wall and I see her same ol’ clock hanging there.  Just then she hands me the clock that I had purchased still packaged up.

She explains to me that she couldn’t have an electric clock as her electric bill was high enough on her fixed income.  As I am trying not to cry, she tells me that I am to take it back to the store and get the money back and spend it on myself.  I tried telling her that it was a gift for her, not me.  She smiles and tells me that the best gift she could ask for; is for me to buy something that I wanted to have for myself. 

She gave me a great big hug and next thing I know I am at Decker Drug trying to return the clock.  The clock that I deliberated over and purchased just a few weeks earlier.  The man at the counter asked why I was returning it and I had to tell him that no-body wanted my gift.  I felt bad for the clock, nobody I knew wanted it.  Back on the shelf it had to go, to sit and wait.   The poor clock that couldn’t get the time of day.   

How many of us feel that we can’t get the time of day from folks?  Whether or not we are a boring square white electric clock or a battery-operated colorful clock we still are clocks that need to be utilized if we are to feel our life matters.  Do you sit on the shelf and wait for others to make you feel useful or even happy?

God made each of us in different sizes, shapes, colors, personalities, and with different gifts.  He loves us no matter what we may appear to others.  He created us on purpose for a purpose. 

Once you get it into your spirit that you don’t need validation from others and that God values you and your life, you will be at peace.  

And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.  Romans 12:2

If the world seems like they don’t want you.  Please turn to Father God.  He already accepts you and loves you like there is no other clock on the shelf that is more acceptable than you.  You are His Favorite!

Until next time, God Bless!

Taking The Light For Granted

It was very foggy this morning as I was driving to church.  It wasn't pea soup but it was pretty thick.  I was on the main highway that runs through town when I saw an oncoming car with their fog lamps on and it reminded me that mine weren't on.  I reached over onto the dash board to turn them on; the fog lamp indicator light didn't appear on my dash board.

After fumbling a couple times with no success I took my mind and attention off the road for a moment to see if I actually turned on the switch, I swerved into the passing lane - thank God no one was there for me to hit.  A little surge of panic hit me.  The thought of something else that could possibly have stopped working on my car was causing my anxiety level to rise.

I spoke a quick prayer and as I said, "Amen" my eyes wandered to the light switch and noticed that the lights were off.  I turned on the lights and flipped the switch for the fog lamps and of course they worked.  AMEN!

As I was thanking God that everything worked He showed me that I took for granted that when my car is running that the headlights are always on.  That when I was in the midst of the fog and needed the extra lighting that my attempts were futile due to the main lighting source not being utilized as the car manufacturer had intended.  I do have an owner's manual in the glove compartment (that I have read) and know what to expect out of my car.

How many of us take the Light of God for granted as I took my car's headlights for granted?  We expect Him to always be there to light the way for us.  Just like when we are in the midst of a storm or confusion we expect to tap more Light from God to guide us.  Whether or not we have tapped into Him, we expect from Him. 

We can't take God for granted. We need Him to light our path so that we are not fumbling around or driving blind; especially if we are going to make it to our planned destinations.  

If we don't "know" HIM and if we don't "know" how the Kingdom of God operates we are driving on an unlighted path. 
 

Just like my car has an owner's manual, there is a manual to the Kingdom of God, it is His Word, the Bible.  We get to KNOW God through His word and talking with Him.  In order for God to KNOW us, we have to take the first steps to get to KNOW HIM.

I pray that you aren't taking God for granted and that before you start your day, that you have some time with God to get to know Him.  Talk to Him and read His Word.  Let His Light shine on you, in you and through you to others on your path reminding them that they also need His Light.

Until next time, God Bless!!!!

Frog Legs? We Don’t Have No Stinkin’ Frog Legs

My mama had her quirks that’s for sure.

She had her superstitions that brought her fear level up to almost a panic no matter how silly you thought them and called them “Stupid-Stitions”.   You didn’t dare use a match to light three different cigarettes or walk under a ladder or pick up a penny that was tails up for she feared that bad luck would manifest as the result of such actions.  I remember trying to show her that nothing bad would happen by opening an umbrella in the house – which nothing did.  Well except for my butt from the whoopin’ I got but hey you can’t blame a girl for trying.

One of my most told stories was about the time she and I were heading to the bus stop to go shopping.  We were cutting across the field next to our apartment in the projects.  We were talking and all of a sudden I was jerked from where I was walking and thrown in front of her.  She apologized saying, “Sorry hun but you are not afraid of black cats.”   Once I got my bearings and realized what had happened my response was, “No mom I’m not and you shouldn’t be afraid of them either, they are just cats, no matter of their color.”

My cousin Shanda and I were once playing and I accidently broke a mirror in my mom’s overnight case that matched her suitcase.  I panicked as I wasn’t up to the whoopin’ or the lectures of being the cause of any and/or all the so-call bad luck that might take place in our house for the next 7 years.  Shanda and I worked frantically to glue it back together.  Oh the mess we made, we clued from the back side so when the glue dried clear it was on the back and the front of the mirror had stuck to the newspaper we were using as gluing placemat.  We cleaned it up the best we could but you could clearly see that the mirror was broken and a botched up repair job tried to conceal it.  We put the mirror back in its rightful position in the lid of the case and decided we better just hide the entire bag. 

A year or so later mom found the bag and she made a snide comment about finding it with the broken mirror.  I was scolded for trying to hide the fact that I broke the mirror and tried repairing it.  However nothing was mentioned about the 7 years of supposed bad luck.  I had hoped that meant that she was learning that her “stupid-stitions” were nonsensical. 

Nope, Friday the 13^th would come around and she would not leave the house.  When it was a full moon, she would hide in the house stating that all the “crazies” would be out and about causing havoc on innocent folks.  (Even though she and my step-dad Bob would have me hiding in my room due to their fighting about her not being able to drive his drunk ass to the gambling halls.  I wondered what was the sense of her hiding in the house when the crazies were in the house with us.  Well at least the innocent folks outside were safe from these two crazies!)

On New Year’s Day we had to eat black eyed peas and sardines for us to have a prosperous year.  Spilling salt would have her throwing a pinch over her right shoulder.  Oh and never think about putting that hat of yours on the bed unless you want it thrown away as if throwing out the hat would throw out any of the alleged bad luck that it would bring. 

However it was the non-stupid-stitious quirks that I have come to love and miss.

When I was in grade school mom helped me with my spelling so I would ace my weekly spelling tests.  I was a horrible speller and that was the one subject mom excelled in so she was great about getting me up on Friday mornings at 4:30 am to help me.  We would take practice tests until I got every word correct.  Then I would get a special “hot” breakfast in lieu of cold cereal for doing what she thought was going the extra mile to get good grades. 

That may not have been a quirk but it helped to train me for her liking to get up at the pre-butt-crack of dawn.  Her medication had her so messed up that her sleeping schedule was way off from the rest of us living in the Pacific Standard Time zone.  She would be up at 3:00 am and in bed by 3:00 pm.  Thank God she managed to get cable to help entertain her in the wee hours of the mornings.  However there were the nights that she was the poster child for the Springsteen’s 57 channels (and nothings on).

When that would happen, she would make a pot of coffee, quietly tip-toe into my room and whisper in a singsongy voice, “Get up Joela and play cards with me, I have coffee for you…”  The first couple times it happened I tried to fight it as I didn’t have to be up until 6:30 am and those three and a half hours of sleep made a difference when you were trying to stay awake during social studies. 

God blessed my mama with persistence and she wouldn’t leave so I could go back to sleep.  She would poke/tickle me until I would get up.  At first I hated it however she would be such a goof ball that it became fun.  I ended up actually look forward to the 3:00 am game times.  We would play gin rummy, Yahtzee, and she taught me how to play canasta.  I had her all to myself and would get a hot breakfast out of the deal.  Not too shabby don’t ya think? 

Not sure if this falls into the quirk category and I am not sure if she would have been called a foodie but she “LOVED HER” Mexican food.  When she would make enchiladas for dinner, she would have to save some for breakfast the following morning or her meal wasn’t complete.  (To this day I still carry on that tradition!)

Her calling her Mexican pork dish Chile Verde when it had a red sauce.  No matter how many times I would tell her, “Mom your white is showing, verde means green in Spanish and that sauce is red which makes your dish Carne Roja.”  She didn’t care; it was always Chile Verde to her. 

Shanda carried on that particular tradition of calling it “Mama’s Chile Verdee”.  Over the years I have learnt not to correct her and just let it go.

What I would hate is when mom would put over-cooked zucchini into her chile verde.  (That is one way to get me to “not” eat something, elch.)  No matter what you called it, it was a great tasting dish, at least it was before the soggy veggies went in.  When she remembered she would put some of the non-veggie chile verde aside for me so I wouldn’t go without.  It would be several years before I found out that I actually liked fresh veggies, they just have to be cooked al’ dente and not mushy the way mom cooked them. 

Mom liked her food spicy hot and when I say hot I mean HOT!  She would tell the story of how she once made a deal with Aunt Margaret’s second husband Jess Soriano that if he would buy the ingredients she would “can” some homemade chile sauce.  He laughed at her telling her that she was a white woman and that she wouldn’t be able to make it spicy enough for a Mexican man like him.  Mom told him, “Just get the stuff and I’ll show you what this weda can do!”  Long story short, she made the macho man cry and she got to take home all the chile sauce because he couldn’t keep up with her heat tolerance. 

When she would can her chile sauce I would hide in my room with wet towels tucked into the cracks of my bedroom door as she would have my eyes and throat burning for days.  Thank God that canning only took place once a year.

One of my favorite mom stories is the one my step-dad Bob always told.  We were living out in Firebaugh on grandpa Renfro’s ranch on Nees Ave.  One of the aunts and uncles came by for an unexpected visit.  It was getting close to time for mom to start supper when Bob, exclaimed, “You know we have some frog legs…”  Before he could finish the sentence mama jumped in with, “We don’t have any frog legs but we have steak!”  She ran to the kitchen to get the steaks all the while the freezer was plumb full of frog legs.  She would rather feed people expensive steaks over sharing her be-loved frog legs.  Years later I found the gig tool that caught those frogs however that story was the one and only time that I ever knew about mom liking or even having frog legs. 

Thank you for letting me share one of my "mama" stories with you.  I do want to touch on the "luck" topic today as you probably can tell I personally don't believe in luck, good or bad.  I believe in blessings and curses.

It is pretty simple, obedience to God brings blessings and disobedience brings curses.  When we obey Him we are blessed, when we disobey Him we open the door for satan to have his way.  

Are you one of those that feel like "If it weren't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all"?  If you are take a step back and see if your life and daily lifestyle is in line with the word of God.  Not sure?  Pick up a Bible and start reading.  That book is more than just about history or a book of stories, it is God's instruction manual for his children.  It is a spirit filled book that tells us how to live a spirit filled life. I pray you check it out. 

Until Next Time, God Bless!