ithildin: (Japan - Charcoal Drawing)
I've become Miss Young.

My father was resident manager of a hotel when I was growing up (This Hotel), and we lived there from the time I was seven till I was fourteen. In the back office, Miss Young was the office manager. Since my father had worked there from the time I was two, I knew her my entire childhood. She had never married, and even lived on property. She must have been the age I am now when I was little. My boss just came back from picking up his oldest, who started ninth grade this year. He's taller than I am now, and I've known him since before he was born [g] I just realized I have become Miss Young. I wonder if he'll look back when he's my age and wonder about the odd spinster lady that used to work for his father? When I envisioned my life at his age, I certainly never saw myself becoming Miss Young, but looks like it happened anyway.

It's just one of those odd things that happen that make you all contemplative. And feel old.

Date: 2008-11-21 04:46 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] fkastrider.livejournal.com
So ... Every time I was in that area you were in Berkeley.

1969 was the great trip west which included staying at my uncle's in the Oakland-Peidmont-Berkeley area, visiting cousin Kitty in the Monterey-Carmel area, more cousins in the LA area, thense homeward through the Las Vegas-St George-Zion-Bryce Canyon area.
From looking at the street maps of Berkeley, we probably parked about a block from your hotel when we took the walking tour of the Berkeley campus. Who knows, we might have met already.
Did you ever take in the 4th of July parade they held over the hill in Piedmont and see Jordy's old fire engine?

1978 (30 years ago right now) I spent a week at Asilomar, talking computers, eating, and drinking lots. Spent Thanksgiving with the uncle in the Oakland-Piedmont-Berkeley area and then home. Talk about Jonestown was all over the radio as I drove from the Monterey Airport to Asilomar.

Miss Young sounds all right. Better that than the whispered reputation of my Latin teacher (they said she was a stripper). Come to think of it, we has a spinster English teacher marry a bachelor Social Studies teacher when they retired at the end of my Sophomore year. I have no idea why they waited 30+ years.

I have no idea why the winds blow us the way they do.

I come from the more rock-steady (OK, boring) side of the family. I can not imagine leaving a "perfectly good job" to go somewhere else. I gave up opportunities to work in New York, Virgina, Phoenix, LA, and Seattle for just that reason. There is still much to be done and I am not yet ready to beat the dust from my sandals on this doorstep.

I currently live 80 miles from where I was born and within 20 miles of one of the Great Lakes. Our family preference for vacation is within 10 miles of what was my Grandfather's Orchard and within a State Park that I have walked since I could first walk. I miss my great grandmother's house up by Mackinac and our visits to the Island. I understand how a sense of place can root itself in your soul.

I live in the same metro area as my parents, well within driving distance of their home. We once put a bid on a house a block and a half away from my parents. Its just as well we didn't get it as it would not have worked out. Too much work was required on the house and other things.

Maybe I lack imagination, but could never have foreseen where I am now ... not when I graduated ... not when I got married ... not when I got the ulcer before my eldest was born, worrying about whether I would be a good Father ... that systems I designed would be on aircraft you've flown on ... that the President flies on ... so what if what I'm working on right now is for older Fighters ... I never expected to become Lord of the Relics, but there you are. Even now, I don't know what to expect next.

So far, I have done little of what (when I was 20) I expected I would do. Those dreams were good ... would have been nice ... but I now know I can dream better dreams.

By the way, maybe Miss Young published under a pen name ... which is why you don't recognize her works.

No, I am not kidding when I say you should getting paid (Writer's Guild or otherwise) for your writing. You can always write as you do now, then reformat them to fit screenplay format. The pay is good and it doesn't matter where you live. Your writing "voice" is good. Maybe not as quirky as whoever writes "Psych", but it has the feeling of something that should connect with a wide audience. I wish I knew who to talk to, to push your writing in front of an executive producer. Somebody should be able to do it. I just don't know who.

Best yet, unless Miss Young had a special stamp account with the Post Office, there is no way she could have connected with as many people as you. And that is no little thing.

{{{Hugs}}} all the same.

Date: 2008-11-21 05:20 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] ithildyn.livejournal.com
ext_9031: (Default)
Yep, I was in the Bay Area from 1963-1977, then we moved to Canada.

I don't think most of us actually get the lives we foresee as children.

[HUGS]

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