PHOTOS: TOWN HALL ANTIQUES MALL, BOTHELL WA

One of the things my mom loved to do when I was a kid was scour garage sales and antique shops, so we spent many a weekend driving around the Wisconsin countryside in search of...well, I don't really know what she was looking for, actually. We always seemed to come back with an old wooden chair for her to refinish, though. As a child Modernist, I could not at all see the appeal of dusty old junk -- rusty farm implements, listing kitchen tables, photographs of grim-faced, grimly-dressed Victorians. I liked brightly-colored inflatable bubble sofas, Mondrian-print paper dresses, and Pop Art. Which are now all...antiques. It happens.

These days, when I happen across an interesting-looking vintage/antique store, I have a whole different feeling, precisely because of the time that has passed since those station-wagon forays. Now I see not so much piles of junk as little bits of lives, memories of my grandparents, my parents, and me. I smile as I walk around and poke into boxes of stuff, thumb through old schoolbooks, every so often going, "Hey! We had that!" It's fun, and also a little bittersweet. All these things that once lived in someone's home...you think about all the stuff that makes up a life, and how fast it all goes.

Last Saturday, I found myself in Bothell, which is an Eastside suburb of Seattle which also houses a campus of the University of Washington. We decided to visit the Country Village Shops, taking along MissEight and Mr13, get some lunch, and see what there was to see. It was rather pleasant and a nice surprise -- very low-key, pretty, with some interesting shops, and wandering birds. It had lots of stuff for little kids to do, so it gets my recommendation for families.

But where did I spend the bulk of my time there? You got it: the Town Hall Antiques Mall. It was really clean and nicely set up, with rather an artistic flair used in the displays. There was SO much to look at! I stayed there until my spawn dragged me out. Ah, the Circle of Life! I took a few pictures of some of the things that caught my eye.

I didn't really catch my own eye, but I liked how my colors matched my surroundings there.

Aha! Childhood stuff alert! My first instinct was to buy this, but my hard-won reason told me, "Settle down, Francie, you've got nowhere to put more nostalgia anyway." And that Barbie case would NEVER be from 1958; 1968 is it. Huh!

Someday, I'd like to buy old photos of bothered-looking strangers and have those be the only photos on display at my home. I could make up long-winded stories about them to visitors, which no one would question because I'd be old and crazy anyway. I can't wait.

These are a set of commemorative glasses from, I think, the '62 Seattle World's Fair. Way way way way cool, and probably worth the $125 price tag. They were in perfect condition.

Disturbing ceramic items.

Ooh!! Old cameras!!

Disturbing non-ceramic items. Or, "nun-ceramic" items. Sorry.

Aw! I had this Gramma Bunny! There was a Grandpa Bunny, too, as I recall. I guess he died.

USA! USA! USA!

Drinking Bears, Drunk cups, and Child Fairies oh my!

Ah, I had such a good time. I ended up buying a couple of '40s-era schoolbooks, which will in some humorous mutated form make it onto this blog in the future. Little did some kid know -- her reading primer would someday be some grown-up's digitized sarcasm well. HA HA, Laura Egan of Colton Public School, HA HA!

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MY FAVORITE MOTHER'S DAY CARD EVER

This is my 20th Mother's Day, and today, my very suburban Caucasian middle son, Mr13, presented me with a card he picked out at the store himself.

He was utterly unaware that he had purchased a card that would be marketed towards what would seem to be a single African-American mother, from a young African-American girl. I looked at him, all unaware and smiling, and I could not help myself: I laughed until my eyes watered and I nearly fell to the floor in hysterics. He joined in the giggles, as did the rest of the family. I think we all laughed for five minutes straight.

It's a lovely card, and I am touched by his sincerity in the message, but must admit -- I've never, as a rural-born white woman, ever received a card from Hallmark's "Mahogany" Collection. I'm still smiling.

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DJ BOUBEY: HORSEY HIP HOP

You never know what you might see here in the hallway when you get up on a Saturday morning.

Hip Hop Horse

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GUEST PHOTOGRAPHER: MISS EIGHT 4

"I like taking pictures. It calms me." - MissEight

Works for me, kid.

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SAY HI TO THE "SOLID LIBERAL"

That's me, according to Pew Research Center via a very short test I took online today. I don't mind at all being characterized as a "liberal," for I don't take that as a slur, as it is commonly used by the frothing far-right. (Ever notice they say certain words with exactly the same nasty tone? Like "Mexicans," "Socialists," "Hussein," "Feminists," "Obama," "Women," and "Civil Rights?") Call me liberal all you like, all day long, paint me a sign with pretty pink flowers and a peace sign with a swirly script reading, "Liberal, And Grooving Totally On That," and that's just swell. "Solid?" Now that I don't like as well. It kind of makes me feel...stocky.

Anyway, the Pew Research Center says that the Solid Liberal is around 14% of America's political typology. Hmm. These are the characteristics they report as being parts of my philosophy -- let's see if they are correct:

Solid Liberals

14% OF THE PUBLIC

What They Believe:

• Strongly pro-government and very liberal on a broad range of issues
• Very supportive of regulation, environmental protection and government assistance to the poor
• One of the most secular groups; 59% say that religion is not that important to them
• Supportive of the country's growing racial and ethnic diversity
• Two-thirds disagree with the Tea Party

Who They Are

• Highly politically engaged
• 75% are Democrats
• Concentrated in the Northeast and West
• 57% are female
• Best educated of the groups: 49% hold at least a bachelor's degree and 27% have post-graduate experience
• A third regularly listen to NPR, about two-in-ten regularly watch The Daily Show and read The New York Times
• 59% have a passport
• 42% regularly buy organic foods
• 21% are first or second generation Americans

I don't really think of myself as "strongly pro-government," but I am certainly not one of those folks who believe that government should just pretty much provide big military and guns for everyone and that's all.   I would be happier about government if it were more modernized and efficient and less prone to corruption and waste. I like to believe our system could be overhauled to better serve the people, but I cannot see it happening any time soon. We are too divided now.

Why, yes, I think regulation on greed-soaked businesses is good, as they are not well-known for taking good care of humans or the environment unless forced to. I think environmental protection is paramount, otherwise we poison and deplete everything nice, and then die. And I cannot find any good rationalization why any person in the United States should go hungry, not be able to find shelter, have to suffer from lack of access to basic health care, or be cut off from opportunities to improve their lives through training and education. To characterize all people who are poor as lazy welfare frauds is wrong, wrong, wrong. 

Past that, imagine if you were standing next to a friend. If she hadn't eaten all day, you would offer her some of your food. If she lost her home to a fire or divorce or savings that were depleted to nothing because of the economic crash, you'd offer her a place to stay. If she were sick, you would take care of her until she was better. If she needed education to move up in her life, you'd teach her what you knew. You would help. I don't know about the folks that don't think our government should offer any of these  basic, simple, necessary things to our citizens. Maybe they just don't like or trust people in the end. "Poor" is other one of those nasty, spat-out words these days, isn't it. "You bad poor people, stop being poor right NOW! Quit needing things! Shoo!"

Describing me as "secular" is like saying the Pope is "kinda Catholic." I save no room for agnosticism even; no, I am super-comfy with atheism, thanks. I don't mind if YOU want to believe in God or anything else if it's a comfort to you. I DO mind when you try to restructure government into a theocracy. I mind a whole lot. To me, that is as un-American as it can get.

The entire nature of this country is the "melting pot," so when it comes to the U.S. becoming increasingly racially diverse, it seems to me to be a natural part of way the demographics would progress. I am always shaking my head at those whose relatives arrived here from Ireland or Italy, groups that were marginalized and widely disliked at the time as unwanted and low-class, who now rail against Mexicans, Vietnamese, Africans, Pakistanis, or any other non-white immigrants. Tsk tsk, people. Your big fat racism is showing.

The Tea Party? Please.

I am politically active, I am a registered Dem, I live in the West, I am a certified female, I have a Bachelor's degree, I do listen to NPR, watch the Daily Show, and love the New York Times, I have an expired passport, I buy organic food often, but my family has been here for several generations.

So it seems they pegged me pretty well. I'm kinda bummed I only have 14% of like-minded fellow Americans to stand around and be stocky...no, be solid with, but that's where we are at. If you go ahead and take the test, come back and tell me in comments where you landed. Unless it's "I HAVE GUN & I H8 U ALL." I don't really want the figures on that.

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THE WHO SELL OUT, 2011 STYLE

Here's what might happen. Heh.

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CROSSING THE GAP

I was prompted twice in the last few days to think about one very particular childhood moment, one that is usually filled with equal amounts of excitement and fear, as childhood's end becomes a definable reality instead of a hazy someday, impossible to clearly view in prior years. That moment unfolds as a 17- or 18-year-old is finishing up high school who now must make some very grown up choices with very real impacts: What Do I Do Now? Although I am very far past that time in my own life, I have no trouble recalling the anxiety-filled black hole feeling that I had as I asked that question of myself, and when others asked it of me. "What are you going to do? Where are you going to school? Where are you working?" The pressure was horrible, because I didn't have any answers. The only thing I knew for sure is what I did Not Want To Do, and that was go to college. I was so sure of this that I didn't even bother to take the SAT, never met with a school counselor, never looked at one single college brochure. No. More. School! We'll revisit that decision a little later in this post.

I spent a few minutes this past weekend chatting with a couple of friendly and intelligent girls from a local Catholic girls' school who were standing by me as we all waited patiently, staking out a front spot at the Moore Theater's stage. The two friends were soon to leave to two different out-of-state colleges, sad to leave friends and family behind, but hopeful that good new experiences would be coming. One of the girls spoke of how her college requires her to declare a major immediately: "I don't know what to put down! I have no idea what I want to do! I don't know how I am supposed to pick something when I've never even done anything like any of these careers!" She smiled as she bubbled her thoughts to the surface to me, a stranger with a sympathetic Mom-type countenance, but her angst was easily felt. Her family only had so much money, she continued, and had already told her how important it was to graduate in four years.

Of course, me as a Sympathetic Mom-Type Stranger was compelled to give her some advice. Don't worry too too much about all this picking-a-major thing, I counseled like a counselor, it's normal that you wouldn't know what you want to do yet. You aren't going to know what is right for you until you take a good breadth of courses, then you can begin to know what you'd like to do, what you can do, and what you should do. And if you want to graduate in four years, take summer courses. Universities are notorious for making required courses unavailable at the times you need them. They like students to hang around more. The most important thing about college, I soapboxed on, was to open your mind to all kinds of topics and ways of thinking and the experiences and knowledge of others. The girl nodded vigorously, as a Catholic girls'-school graduate would regarding that statement. As the first band at the Moore took the stage, we turned our attention to them. Lovely, good kids, I thought. They will be fine.

My second prompt on this subject was found today as I scanned my news feed. This delightful New York Times article on the value of taking a "gap year" before college is written by another teenager, Gregory Kristof, who is the son of Pulitzer Prize-winning author and journalist Nicholas Kristof. The young Kristof is spending his year studying Chinese in China and will finish up by studying Spanish in Peru, but the experiences he is having outside the classroom are what builds the boy into the man. He's a fortunate kid; it is without doubt that his gap year will make him a better student and a wiser person as he returns to the U.S. and begins college.

I love the idea of the "gap year," and I wish all kids would consider taking one before heading to school. Not every family is going to be able to fund a generous world-traveling year, but there are programs that are far more affordable (or that actually pay something!). And frankly, even if a high school grad can't go any further than his own home town, taking a year to work, volunteer, learn how to manage money and time independent of parents will serve them so well. How many teens do you know (and maybe this was you, too) who bombed out of college or did far worse than they should've because they were immature and under-prepared for the responsibility? A lot. What good does this do anyone? College should never be just an extension of the holding-pen that high schools often can be. College can only deliver its best value to those who are fully prepared to be there; otherwise, the Not-Ready-For-Prime-Time student ends up with useless grades, substantial debt for small gains, a meaningless piece of paper, and long regrets.

So, what did I, Little Miss No More School, end up doing? Traveling, for the first time; a very valuable thing. Made music. Took and sold photos, for very little money. Sold bootleg cassettes like a gangsta, for very little money. Took a less-than-minimum wage job because I didn't even dare try for better without a degree. Suffered the dismissals of those who, when they found out I hadn't been to college, assumed I was stupid and unskilled. Moved from Wisconsin to Arizona to Illinois to Colorado, hoping something brilliant might happen to me that would take away the nagging and depressing feeling that I hadn't done right by myself at all.

And in those years, nine of them after I graduated from high school, I started to grow up. Nothing was going to come my way unless I built it myself, and I had to stop avoiding all school because my previous school experiences had been so lousy. It was time to go to college, to at the very least be able to say that I didn't run away from hard work, that I could meet whatever it was I feared head on. I needed that time to be able to succeed. Any earlier would have been a complete failure. I wasn't able as a kid to commit to school; as an adult, I could. I did well, and graduated with honors in six years, slowed in pace a bit after dear CouchTeen was born in the middle of my university time. Sixteen months after my son was born, my father died. He didn't live to see me graduate, but I think he felt I was on the right track and was glad that I had chosen to go.

There isn't one right way to grow up or one right path to what makes someone a "success." Time and experience are proven wisdom-bringers, and to offer this option to high schoolers who are worrying that they are lost and will remain lost, can be a tremendous gift to give them. Step back, and consider the gap.

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THE WORLD OF GEOGRAPHIC CLIMATE BY MISS EIGHT

I've been a busy rock mom this past week (two reviews/photos up on one day on Back Beat Seattle and The Audio Perv! Whee!), so I'm glad that my daughter MissEight can supply today's blog content. These drawings were handed to me with no comment or explanation. "Thank you, " I said, as she somberly walked off. Her spelling is a little off, but I like her interpretations of different world climates. I think "The Tenprate Forest" is an indie band here in Seattle.

When she heard me laughing at the last one there and the vivid death scene, she drew me a close-up.

What have we learned? Mice are easy food targets, and if you have X's on your eyes, you are dead.

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OSAMA BIN DEAD

Right now, at this very second, I am listening to Barack Obama telling me on live television that Osama bin Laden is dead. We took him out at last.

People are gathering in front of the White House now, where I was a year ago in April with my kids and the year before that. They are chanting and singing and waving American flags.

When I heard the news, from my son as he heard it break on Facebook, I first thought he was joking, and then I exclaimed, "YES!!" And I thought of 9/11, and the toll it took. All those lost, and the world changed for the worse, forever. My pleasure in the death of an old, ugly, vicious, hateful, evil son-of-a-bitch is tempered by the reality that we can't ever get back the things he took, and hatred is never in short supply.

I think of that Palestinian woman I saw on TV that September morning, dancing in joy at our misery. I think of the misery our country has caused others, why they hate us so.

It's good he's dead, and it doesn't bother me one bit that he was killed by U.S. forces. He was a cancer. But I don't really feel like celebrating. It's not like it's over.

But, hey. Fuck that guy. Rot in hell, bin Laden, rot in hell.

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