BACK IN THE DAY . . .

(getting information)

In the mid-to-late 1950s--which are now, I believe, considered "back in the day," I was enamored with the idea of being a journalist. 

I didn't know the career choice was called journalist--I just wanted to write for newspapers. Did it in high school, worked a little with the college newspaper staff (but not as a writer), and loved to read newspapers.

One of my regular reads was the Chicago Daily News (and later its sister paper, The Sun-Times) because it was a daily paper in the household of my boyfriend's family, where I usually stopped for breakfast before heading off for college classes. (My dad didn't see the sense of having a daily newspaper.)

Like most newspaper readers, I had my preferences--comics, of course (everybody needed a dose of fun first thing, as good as a shot of espresso in later years), and then the Syd Harris column, Strictly Personal.

Sydney J. Harris had been born in England but his parents came to the U.S. when he was quite young, and he grew up in Chicago where he began working for newspapers in his late teens. His columns dealt with many issues--both of that day and what would turn out to be latter days. He was considered a liberal, and that explained to me why he was read by the Palmer family.

One of my favorite recurring columns was called something like "Things I Learned While Looking Up Something Else." (I couldn't find a good reference on that, so take my word for it--the title may not be correct but the paraphrase gives you the idea.)

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Years later, when my children were old enough to read and ask questions, especially about how to spell/punctuate/express an idea, my standard response was: "Look it up." (As an aside--they remember that response well, and they have told me how helpful it was to have to look things up because they still know how. Just saying.)

Thus, looking things up was totally ingrained in my family--a family trait, you might say--and I wasn't surprised to discover as the children grew older that we all had the same affliction: looking up one word in the dictionary led to at least a half-hour's stroll through other words.

I tell you this to give some background to yesterday's activities. My day started out pretty normally--journaling with coffee, then breakfast, then starting a load of laundry. So far, so good. Then--song lyrics that had been driving me crazy for several days couldn't be ignored any longer. I had to look them up! 

The song was "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square"--a WW II song, performed by a number of bands and vocalists, including Glenn Miller. So after I read the lyrics of Nightingale, I segued to the biographical writings on Glenn Miller--he was only 40 when his small plane disappeared while taking him from England to Paris in 1944. The article on Miller was really long--and I was caught up in the kind of music he played, how it was different from other big bands of that era, how it continues to be a musical presence in the 21st Century . . . . If the clothes dryer hadn't buzzed at that moment, I'd probably still be chasing down references--names of musicians I either grew up with or remember from listening to my mother's 78s. Names like Benny Goodman, Tommy Dorsey, Gene Krupa; vocalists Frank Sinatra, Jo Stafford, Rosemary Clooney . . . .

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What would we do without the Internet? "Look it up" is no big deal nowadays. I stand in my kitchen, trying to remember what all goes into a frittata, and the answer is: look it up. There must be millions of recipes on the Internet--there are certainly dozens upon dozens about frittatas. And I'm pleased to learn that an omelet, with which I've been acquainted since, oh, nearly 60 years ago, is a cousin to the frittata, and I can easily adapt one from the other. Quiche is, in case you're interested, another eggy cousin--most often baked in a pie shell. (But I've had good luck with crustless--fewer calories, and I don't have to consider making a gluten-free crust.)

Or I finally give in to the urge to track down song lyrics that have eluded me for most of my life. Or I get to read the first pages--or selected pages--of a book I'm considering buying. Or, instead of the book, I search for the author, find the home page, read the bio, make a list of books I'd like to read (library is another favorite place) . . . .

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You see how this goes--there's no good stopping place. You have to exercise the will to stop looking things up. Or you have to remember that you have an appointment you can't possibly miss. Or there's a quiche (or something) in the oven, and when the timer goes off, you better be out there to rescue tonight's dinner.

I wish you well, during our time of uncertainty. My hope is to inspire you to pass the time in a way that entertains you, or educates you, or merely satisfies your quest for information.

And if you have a question . . . look it up!