What toy from the 60s did you want but never got?

Although my parents were Depression-era babies, in many ways, they were like hippies.  There was this bohemian quality to the atmosphere in our house.  Mom was a very open-minded liberal, Dad dabbled in metaphysics for as long as I can remember.  I still recall the morning he woke me up to excitedly tell me about his experiment with astral projection the night before.

But I digress.  Let's go back for a sec to the hippie thing.  Dad was Nature Boy.  His credo: no additives, no preservatives (which I'm thinking has worked out well for him, since he'll be 87 next month).  My dad would not allow items in the house for consumption that had artificial color or flavor in them, and called hot dogs "America's most deadly missile."  Once when a friend came over with a bag of Screaming Yellow Zonkers and offered me some, he swept the bag out of my hand and told my friend that , "Sorry, Pam doesn't eat brightly colored foods."  We had granola for snacking (and potato chips and dip, which made me fat, but they were natural, so there ya go) and Mom made wholesome baked goods (the best chocolate chip cookies ever - and kolacky, a Czech specialty), all fresh and natural, so I never felt deprived.

Until I heard about Incredible Edibles.

Some kid down the street got the Incredible Edibles machine for Christmas and brought it over to my next door neighbor's house.  We "ooh"ed and "ahh"ed over how the colorful gel was inserted into the mold (which looked like H.R. Pufnstuf), it set with heat, then voila!   jiggly gel candy emerged, in wacky shapes and colors!

I begged and pleaded and coerced, but my parents would not budge.  There was no way in heck my dad would deign to allow me to make bright red candy, let alone consume it.

So, it is with a heavy sigh that I share the toy I was never allowed to have:  the amazing, squiggly-wiggly Incredible Edibles machine.

(However, I did have an Easy Bake oven, which turned out some tasty cakes, weird cookies and very strange, hard-as-a-rock raspberry candies in a cheery red hue.  Never shared those with Dad, though ...)

Monday is Tarot Day! The card: The Tower

I blush to see that my last blog post was on May 1, but I'm not surprised, nor will I apologize.  Anyone who's a student of the tarot will understand when I say that the month of May was one harrowing fall from the Tower after another.

I remember the first time I ever saw the Tower card.  My friend Dara introduced me to it via her Aquarian deck (first published by Morgan Press in 1970, which makes it kinda groovy, even though its artwork is more Art Deco-inspired).  I pulled it as an outcome card in a reading I requested for the future of a relationship I was in.  Out popped the Tower and Dara saying, "Uh oh - doesn't look good, lady.  I mean, look at the imagery.  It's like Waco".  She referred, of course, to the tragic events of The Branch Davidians, David Koresh, and the siege on Waco, ending in a fiery battle between the cult member and the police.

Not good, no sir.

When I read the tarot, I normally focus on the good, I really do.  I tell my querrants that so much depends not only upon the card itself, but its position in the spread and its proximity to other less-than-favorable cards.  However, the Tower rarely portends anything truly positive - or, I should say, there may be a positive outcome, but the road there will be rocky, with unwelcome surprises and blindsides along the way.

So let me sum up my month of May, filling you in on why I haven't blogged consistently:  a sudden rush of activity regarding my book (good Tower), Dad went into the hospital and his breathing stopped (horrible Tower), Dad had a pacemaker inserted and is doing much better (surprising Tower), during production week of a show I'm in, a cast member had to totally drop out of the show due to a serious health concern (very bad Tower), and another cast member (my leading man, actually) almost had to be replaced because of laryngitis (nasty, upsetting Tower) and I acquired a cold - something any singer doesn't relish (Tower, may I slap you in the face already, please?).

My antidote to it all: attempt to remain an observer of the tumult, to watch the swirling morass of drama and heartache, to not get caught up in it to the point that it rattles my soul.  I did fairly well at this, but not always.  Probably why the cold eventually grabbed me by the collar.

So, right now, I'm hoping for no more Tower energy.  My dad is alive and kicking (and flirting with the women at his retirement community), I'm getting my book out there to the public, the show has completed its first weekend (with some blips and frustrations along the way, but certainly nothing Toweriffic) and my cold is settling down. 

If there are more spills out of the Tower, I'm feeling I'll have a parachute for a gentle landing from this point on.

Generosity of Spirit and the Publication of my Book

So, yesterday was the big splash for my book "The Cotton Candy Road Trip", but really it was only the first part of the splash.  Like navigating through a waterpark.  Consider yesterday's splash like, oh, maybe taking your inner tube and coasting down the Lazy Rapids (or whatever else one might call that slow-moving river-like part of a typical waterpark).  What's left?  Oh, the rest of the Really Big Waterpark!  Like contacting everyone I have ever received an email from, everyone I have an email for who is connected to a park, all my agents and clients from my voice-over world, connecting with small bookstores in the region, and eventually, reminding all the PR folks from all the parks that the book actually exists and is ready to wield its magic.

Then there's setting up book signings.  I have some irons in the fire on that avenue.  Small bookstores, libraries, even the Oak Park Arms, where my Dad lives.  They've all expressed interest in one form or another.  And every stone must be turned in order to get the Cotton Candy message out to the masses.

But back to yesterday.  I splashed Facebook, launched my book's Facebook page:

(https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Cotton-Candy-Roadtrip/204002577720)

... and told every person I know there, over 600 friends, about the page and to hopefully get it "liked".  Additionally, I took out a Facebook ad with a small budget, and am starting to get folks from all over the world interested in my project!  But the sweetest thing ...

was the outpouring of enthusiasm and love from my Facebook buddies. Their generosity of spirit moved me again and again throughout the day.  One friend purchased a copy of the book so quickly it made me dizzy, then went on to share the book's page link with her other friends.  A number of friends did that as well, shared the Facebook page link.  I blushed time after time at their words of encouragement, how they plugged the book sight unseen, just knowing it's a labor of love, that I poured my whole self into it.

Thank you friends.  Such generosity will be graciously returned.

Posted by Pam Turlow at 3:04 PM 0 comments