Dear Readers of Poems and Everything Else,
This is an experiment, an attempt at overcoming my phobic
reaction to Social Media, and to try to tell a story or two,
between poems. My hope is that we will all tell stories together.
I’ll tell some, and so will you.
I can’t explain why I love stories (I wish there were some Good Reasons
logic, or relatives, or even dreams). I’ve loved them all my life.
Some are mine but most belong to the many amazing people
who are absolutely everywhere. Next door neighbors, or people down the block,
on busses and subways and in every single grocery store.
I’ve always tried to write life down.
My first exciting story - possibly my only exciting story,
happened many years ago when I was a reporter, as was everyone else in my class,
for The Peck Observer, 7th Grade newspaper in Ansonia, Connecticut, small
factory town where I grew up. Peter Stamos was our teacher and newspaper
advisor. He told us to find a good subject and conduct an interview.
He said this in February, right before our one week break.
That year my family went to Grossingers Country Club, an old Jewish resort in the
Catskills. As soon as we arrived, I ran right to the press office.
Julius Schatz, the hotel’s PR man, happened to be free.
I was tall and skinny and wearing an odd asymmetrical yellow dress.
I carried some BIC pens, made in a factory near where we lived.
We bought seconds, and sometimes, the pens
leaked so I always had to carry more than one. I told Julius Schatz
about the Peck Observer, and asked him if there were any celebrities at Grossingers
to interview. You’re in luck he said. Jayne Mansfield is here with her
husband Mickey Hargitay. I’ll set that up right now. And then he smiled at
me,. Wait until you see them Julius Schatz said. You’ll want to write it down.
Yours,
Esther
P.S. If you have a story, tell us.