I interrupt slow vacation coverage and other musings to report on my recent archaeological trip to the Missouri Valley Special Collections to waste a day off photograph some artifacts from the Republican National Convention, hosted in Kansas City’s Kemper Arena in 1976.
One cannot visit Memphis without making a stop at Graceland. I’ve heard of people visiting Graceland more than once, but beyond checking the visit off your bucket list there isn’t much to do there that would warrant repeat visits. Elvis’s mansion might have looked impressive in the 1960’s but it’s pretty average today and it’s not even fully open “out of respect for Elvis”, so you won’t be able to see the infamous toilet where he met his demise. All the other exhibits across the street including Elvis’s personal planes and cars are of limited interest. And for a dead guy Elvis is charging way too much for the pleasure of strolling by all his jumpsuits and gold records and cassettes. That really doesn’t stop the crowds of people from filing in, and parking lot that would make an average Wal-Mart proud is never empty.
The first thing that struck me was that the mansion is fairly small by today’s standards. I always imagined it to be more grand and lavish. Not so much.
Kompot tastes so good that people used to preserve (can) it for winter when not too many ingredients were available. It’s not some colored chemical compound that kids drink nowadays. Give it a try, you won’t go back!
Soon I will be making kvas and will post about it then.
I thought that Miley would be someone that my girls who they could look up to, but I guess that I was wrong. Thanks a lot Miley!
Posted on Kansascity.com
Many comments left in response to the article about Miley Sirus’ Vanity Fair cover fiasco are way more entertaining than the story itself. These comments are from parents who are upset because their kids’ role model is now disgraced after posing for “inappropriate” pictures for the magazine. What’s inappropriate is their kids even having a role model such as Myley Sirus. What do people even know about her to encourage their kids to look up to her? Is she a future Nobel Prize winner? Maybe she will cure cancer? Is she a great artist, composer, writer? Winner of American Idol? Up-and-coming porn star? (that may be). For all these people know, she could be torturing kittens, be a bully on a rare day when she shows up at school, she could have eating disorders, she could be a pathological liar and steal her neighbor’s paper.How can you possibly present her or any celebrity as a role model for your kids based on her 30 minute show on Disney Channel and an occasional concert is beyond me. No wonder these children have problems when they grow up.
Of course when I was growing up there were no shortage of role models offered to me and they weren’t some creepy child-actors who could sing and jump on stage. They were bona fide heroes: Pavlik Morozov – a 13-year old boy who denounced his father to the authorities and was in turn killed by his family, Yuri Gagarin – the first man in space, Zoya Kosmodemyanskaya – a 17-year old who was caught trying to sabotage Germans during the war and was tortured and killed, or Alexei Maresiev – a war pilot who was shot down, lost both legs trying to get back to the hospital, then trained himself to fly with prosthetic legs and returned back to being a pilot. There were hundreds and thousands of others. There were books about them, songs, movies, poems, their portraits hung in our classrooms. Years later we found out that some of their stories were nothing but well produced propaganda. Others were true heroes who are still honored many years later. Despite the abundance of supplied role models, I never wanted to be like them or look up to them. I admired their actions, cried when their lives tragically ended but I could always separate the action from the actor. This may not be the case with the false role models of today.
The only people who I knew in real life were my parents and relatives. They were my real role models. My Father was a doctor with a gift and a selfless dedication to his patients and profession; a writer, a poet, with great sense of humor; a true intellectual. From his childhood in the Jewish ghetto under German occupation, his father never returned from WWII, he went on through discrimination and poverty to become a beloved and respected physician. Many people whose lives he saved or touched came to remember him at his funeral. He was a hero to them. He is a hero to me.
I hope that if anything my daughter gets from me (besides liking strange-for-Americans Russian foods) it’s enough common sense to tell the difference between someone like Miley Sirus or whoever else Disney Channel thinks she should look up to, and real everyday role models who are around her and not on TV. Miley Sirus’s come and go, sometimes forgotten, sometimes disgraced, their likenesses scattered amidst garage sales and donations to the Salvation Army. That’s not the road you want your child to follow. Or maybe you do. Then reread the title of this post.
Continuing from my previous post, more photos of 1938 Kansas City made by William Vandivert. Most or all of these are previously unpublished; I could not find a corresponding issue of the Life Magazine from 1938. At the end of the post there are a few vintage burlesque show photos, they are hardly NSFW but be careful scrolling all the way to the bottom if someone is looking over your shoulder.
