BERRY TALES: Difficult to write about spring in face of true tragedy

Published 6:00 am Sunday, February 18, 2018

Somewhere within the doldrums of this Louisiana winter, on a rainy day last week, I made coffee and splurged with a cozy curl up on the couch, somewhat mindless, in front of the TV. 

For me, there is not much interest within the enigma of ridiculous numbers from 5 to a zillion, but I flippantly flipped and finally found something, The Game Show Network. My haphazard selection turned out to be historical and hysterical, the perfect little undemanding stopping point in my day to have coffee and disconnect. Dick Clark was the game show host and Florence Henderson was one of the “stars.” She was no longer the Brady’s TV mom; she was growing out her hair and developing her game show circuit career instead. Turns out, the other team won, and, therefore, had the opportunity to make it to the top of the $25,000 Pyramid. Sadly, they did not. The winning contestant happily, however, took home just more than $1,000 and Florence’s partner won a car, a brand new 1985 Toyota Tercel. The real car was not actually in the studio, so, they showed a picture of this beauty with California emission standards all built in. The guy that won the Tercel was so excited and, I suspect, Florence felt accomplished. I watched the entire show — best thing on TV — and walked away with an empty cup of coffee and a longing for the past.

 I see that yearning for yesterday on social media.  There are FB pages that devote themselves completely to nostalgia. My husband follows one from his hometown of Miami Beach when A1A had sand on both sides of the street and he took a bus to the beach, just him and a neighborhood friend with dive knives strapped to their legs, spear guns in their hands and filled up scuba tanks on their backs; imagine getting on a city bus with that paraphernalia today! They would be gone all day without a cell phone, a credit card or an incident, just clear blue ocean water and, hopefully, fresh fish for supper. “Flipper” was being filmed in Key Biscayne and at The Miami Seaquarium then and The Magic Kingdom was s just a swamp in Florida and a vision in Walt‘s incredible head. The good ole days in south Florida; they are held close in those memories and thankfully, being kept amongst old friends and acquaintances via social media. 

I began this piece on a delightful Valentine’s Day morning in 2018 with the intention of writing a bit of nostalgia and then directing my thoughts and words towards the imminent approaching of spring, but then, the Florida school shooting happened before I finished this piece. Coincidentally, I was writing about the idyllic childhood experiences of my husband who grew up in that area and now, my mind is instead tainted with what just occurred. It reminded me of the feeling I felt when Nice, France, was involved in the massacre on Bastille Day two summers ago. Nice was a beautiful place from my youth that had suddenly become tarnished and toxic from the unthinkable crime committed there. Anyway, with the developing news blaring from the TV on Channels 5 to a zillion, it became difficult to write about the coming of spring and hearts and flowers amongst the intensity of pain that was, is, occurring. How did we get to this place?

PAM SHENSKY is a wife, mom to five and blogs at www.pamshensky.com.