Rob Wood's Blog - Posts Tagged "1950s-memoir"
How Let's Scare Mom Came To Be
"Let's Scare Mom" is a book that was almost never written. In late 2011, I decided to record some of my childhood adventures to pass along to my grandchildren, before Old Man Time or Merlot washed them out to sea, never to return. The result was a small book of short stories which I called "The 5 Greatest Spankings of All Time" and I self-published in 2012 through Amazon. Wow, some of my more affectionate family members actually referred to me as an “author”. I liked the ring of that!
To my great surprise, that little book was embraced by a relatively small but enthusiastic group of new readers, well outside the family circle. This modest success, in no small part, was due to the Amazon marketing platform and a wonderful site for readers…Goodreads.com. I was honestly flattered by the favorable reaction I received from folks that I didn't even know. One message I heard repeatedly while gloating in my unforeseen accomplishment was, “I would like to see you expand your stories into an entire memoir. "Spankings"is too short…we want to hear more.”
I gave the prospect of such an endeavor considerable thought. I finally arrived at the decision; Why not make a run at it? I had a good time putting together the first book…right and writing is something I actually enjoy. It sure beats sitting around in my spare time opening mail from AARP, hearing aid peddlers and The Scooter Store.
So, that is how Let’s Scare Mom came to be. It proved to be a very gratifying journey for me and I hope you enjoy reading it half as much as I enjoyed walking in my childhood shoes…one last time. RW
To my great surprise, that little book was embraced by a relatively small but enthusiastic group of new readers, well outside the family circle. This modest success, in no small part, was due to the Amazon marketing platform and a wonderful site for readers…Goodreads.com. I was honestly flattered by the favorable reaction I received from folks that I didn't even know. One message I heard repeatedly while gloating in my unforeseen accomplishment was, “I would like to see you expand your stories into an entire memoir. "Spankings"is too short…we want to hear more.”
I gave the prospect of such an endeavor considerable thought. I finally arrived at the decision; Why not make a run at it? I had a good time putting together the first book…right and writing is something I actually enjoy. It sure beats sitting around in my spare time opening mail from AARP, hearing aid peddlers and The Scooter Store.
So, that is how Let’s Scare Mom came to be. It proved to be a very gratifying journey for me and I hope you enjoy reading it half as much as I enjoyed walking in my childhood shoes…one last time. RW
Top Dog
I’ve always felt that participation in sports is a constructive cog in the wheel of childhood development…boy or girl. The summer of 1995 was rock’ in along much to my satisfaction in that regard. Buck, Jake and Calli, my three offspring still under the roof at the time, were all involved in summer sporting activities. The boys were lifting weights and running in preparation for the mid-August commencement of football. Calli, at nine years of age and the youngest, was playing soccer, softball and occasionally she would squeeze in a round of golf (in my undervalued opinion, her best sport). All of the talk around the dinner table, and for that matter around town, was of the upcoming football season. Lewisville was coming off a 5-A Texas State Championship and many in the community were expecting a repeat performance. Life was good!
With Buck returning as the starting left cornerback for the Fighting Farmers, I wasn’t particularly surprised when I received a call from Jeff Calaway, the sports writer for the local paper. He called to schedule an appointment to interview and photograph, as he worded it, “Your superstar”. I proudly informed Buck and his siblings, as well as a few friends and neighbors, that Jeff and the staff photographer would be calling on us the following Friday morning.
Our household was buzzing with excitement in anticipation the big day. Buck purchased a new shirt just for the special occasion. It bore his uniform number (28) and the logo of the school mascot (some guy who looked like he might be missing a few shingles, wearing bibbed overalls and brandishing a pitch fork…a Fighting Farmer???). The lawn was freshly mowed, the house was spic and span and sweet anticipation filled the air.
To my surprise, around 8:30 on the appointed morning, an assortment of friends and neighbors just happened to stop by to say hello. There were eight or nine guys from the football team, four of Jakes pals and even my business partner showed up on our doorstep. I herded everybody into the house as I didn’t want a crowd on the front lawn when Clark Kent and Lois Lane arrived to get their scoop. Promptly at 9:00, right on schedule, the doorbell announced our special guest’s arrival.
With Buck seated on the couch surrounded by his teammates, I proudly opened the front door and invited the pundits to come inside. The reporter and his shutter-bug were wearing expressions of surprise as they were greeted by what looked more like a town hall meeting than an intimate interview. Buck interrupted an awkward silence by standing up and extending his hand and introducing himself with an air of confident pluck. Looking a bit confused, the reporter returned the handshake while scanning around the room and asking, “Is there a Calli Wood here? We’re here to speak with her about her unassisted triple play.” You could have heard a pin drop. A tiny toe-head elbowed her way between two dinosaur looking offensive linemen and stepped forward offering, “I’m Calli Wood…that’s me”. I learned something very important about my daughter that day …she doesn’t stand in any boy’s shadow.
There was a feature article and color picture of Calli that appeared in the Sunday sports section as well as a teaser blurb at the top of the front page. The story of that day’s events has been relived many times over the years, much to Buck’s chagrin. He did manage to get his picture in the paper several times before the season was over but from that point forward both of Calli’s older brothers avoided any conversation attempting to identify the best athlete in the family.
With Buck returning as the starting left cornerback for the Fighting Farmers, I wasn’t particularly surprised when I received a call from Jeff Calaway, the sports writer for the local paper. He called to schedule an appointment to interview and photograph, as he worded it, “Your superstar”. I proudly informed Buck and his siblings, as well as a few friends and neighbors, that Jeff and the staff photographer would be calling on us the following Friday morning.
Our household was buzzing with excitement in anticipation the big day. Buck purchased a new shirt just for the special occasion. It bore his uniform number (28) and the logo of the school mascot (some guy who looked like he might be missing a few shingles, wearing bibbed overalls and brandishing a pitch fork…a Fighting Farmer???). The lawn was freshly mowed, the house was spic and span and sweet anticipation filled the air.
To my surprise, around 8:30 on the appointed morning, an assortment of friends and neighbors just happened to stop by to say hello. There were eight or nine guys from the football team, four of Jakes pals and even my business partner showed up on our doorstep. I herded everybody into the house as I didn’t want a crowd on the front lawn when Clark Kent and Lois Lane arrived to get their scoop. Promptly at 9:00, right on schedule, the doorbell announced our special guest’s arrival.
With Buck seated on the couch surrounded by his teammates, I proudly opened the front door and invited the pundits to come inside. The reporter and his shutter-bug were wearing expressions of surprise as they were greeted by what looked more like a town hall meeting than an intimate interview. Buck interrupted an awkward silence by standing up and extending his hand and introducing himself with an air of confident pluck. Looking a bit confused, the reporter returned the handshake while scanning around the room and asking, “Is there a Calli Wood here? We’re here to speak with her about her unassisted triple play.” You could have heard a pin drop. A tiny toe-head elbowed her way between two dinosaur looking offensive linemen and stepped forward offering, “I’m Calli Wood…that’s me”. I learned something very important about my daughter that day …she doesn’t stand in any boy’s shadow.
There was a feature article and color picture of Calli that appeared in the Sunday sports section as well as a teaser blurb at the top of the front page. The story of that day’s events has been relived many times over the years, much to Buck’s chagrin. He did manage to get his picture in the paper several times before the season was over but from that point forward both of Calli’s older brothers avoided any conversation attempting to identify the best athlete in the family.
