Where I was born, and first lived

Going thru some family papers.  Have to get birth certificates so Nadine and I can apply for new passport books, so we can immigrate to Canada (or at least visit Adam and family there).  Our old passport books have expired, and the passport cards we got in 2013 to drive with Stan and Judi to Quebec are not valid for air travel to Vancouver.

Came across an envelope (January 1936; 3 cent stamp), which was used by the hospital to mail my birth certificate to my mother.

Pretty amazing; if you use Google Maps, you can find pictures of both these places: 

• Episcopal Hospital where I was born: First Street and Lehigh Avenue, Philadelphia
• Stonehurst Court where my family first lived: Upper Darby, PA

Facebook

I tried Facebook about two years ago.  I made some posts which I thought were clever or funny or meaningful or whatever.

Then I would check back in a day or two, to find out how many people "liked" my posts.  I would feel good if there were a few or a lot of likes, and bad if there were none.

I got bored searching thru all the posts of my "friends",  most of which were about people I did not know, or activities in which I had no real interest.  It became a real time killer for me.

Then I realized that the undertaking was mostly my ego trip, and I stopped.

Where are you now, Emily Menifee?

My cousin Ada is ten months older than me.  During several of our grade school years, she lived four blocks away from me with our grandparents, and right across the trolley tracks from our elementary school, Oakmont School.  We went to 3rd, 4th and 5th grade together in that school. Then my grandfather retired, and they all moved to Luray, Virginia. 

Recently our friend Cyrice invited us to meet her at a new coffee shop, HyperSlow,  a few blocks from where we live. This being Los Angeles, the coffee shop is also a yoga and meditation studio.

Cyrice introduced us to one of the owners named Emily. We met and chatted for a few minutes. Then, I remembered the first “Emily" in my life.

After Ada moved to Luray, her best friend, Emily Menefee, lived down the street. We always went down to Virginia for a few weeks in the summer, my mother and me and my brother. Once summer when we were there (I was probably about 12), Ada and  I went down the street to play with Emily at her house. She lived in a very large house with a very large front yard.

We were playing a game at a card table, I think it was Monopoly, or maybe a card name game. Emily Menefee started playing “footsie" with me under the card table.  She must have instigated it. I've always been awkward with girls (and women). 


Remembering all this, I wrote to Ada and told her of this recollection. She emailed back and said, humorously, that she was surprised to hear I was playing footsie with her best friend. I replied and asked her if she knew whatever happened to Emily Menifee. 

Ada responded. Emily Menefee married a pediatrician, and moved to Richmond Virginia. 

Household Languages

A real conversation, overheard this morning, by two males acquaintances:

First man: I have been reading that it is now established, by social research, that children who grow up in homes where two languages are spoken, are better at learning additional languages later in their lives!

Second man: That's great!  I grew up in a home where two languages were spoken: One by my father, and another by my mother!