[basement]archaeology

with my grandmother celebrating a milestone birthday the other week, the whole family made a trip to western kansas to celebrate it with her. after meeting up with everyone and enjoying a late lunch, we ended up at my grandma's house to chat. now, ever since i can remember, i loved venturing down into my grandparents basement. when i was younger, i was on a constant search for my dad's childhood baseball cards, which he swore were down there, somewhere. now, as an adult, i go down there just to marvel at the mid century relics still stored down there, paintings, lights, amber colored screens, and radios from another era. i'm sure most grandma's basements are like this, but it takes on a whole new level of amazement when it's from your family, items sometimes identifiable in old family photos.

however this last trip down put things in perspective a bit. like any good museum, the collection is constantly growing and changing, and for the first time, i started noticing items i have memories of, back when they were on the main level. most notably the table i use to eat breakfast at while i watched grandpa play solitaire. items, that to my cousin's kids (the youngest generation in the family), look just as ancient as the old frigidaire did to me.

...and yes, i did look for the baseball cards, and no, i still haven't found them.

march [memories]

my grandfather on my father's side, and my grandmother on my mothers side both have march birthdays...as do i. like most families, we would celebrate birthdays grouped into season's or months. now with most of my family celebrating in the fall, it was just us in march. maybe it's because of this, i feel a special connection with them, but i'm thinking it's more the characteristics they possessed that i admired.


i think i was born loving my grandfather, maybe it was his eyes. they were in fact exactly like mine! we are the only ones in the family with that color! to this day, i still love that fact. as a kid, my love for him was mostly because he was my grandpa and he gave me candy, but as i got older it was because of the man he was. he had a million friends. there was no one that he wouldn't or couldn't talk to. i loved driving around with him chatting it up with everyone in the town, having conversations about farming or how god awful hot it was. it wasn't hard to noticed that every conversation with every person was sincere, and honest, and my grandfather seeming like he didn't have anywhere else to be, but talking to that person, at that moment. as i got older, he would ask me what girls i was "seeing" or as why i wasn't seeing any? in high school he'd still ask about girls i mentioned in the 3rd grade. still growing older, i started understanding my grandfather as a person, and i learned that he wore his emotions on his sleeve.

he passed away while i was at college, on the verge of becoming my own man. i still miss him terribly. there are a million stories i would love to tell him, and some advice i wished he'd give me now. one thing that makes me feel better, is that i still live my life, like he could ask me what i've been up to and be proud of me.

my grandmother is a different story. i miss her mostly because i feel i never really got to know her. she passed away when i was still very young. she remains in my mind the perfect, quintessential grandmother. always in the kitchen, always cooking up a huge german storm. meals to this day, i still miss. i'm not sure how true this is, but i remember there always being freshly made pies in the house! is that possible? constant fresh pie! whether it is or not, in my memory it's true, and absolutely heavenly! i wish i could have known her when i was older, but the stories of her quiet strength told to me by my mother, only make me love her, and miss her more.

although they have both passed on, their memories are still with me, especially when their birthdays roll around. what i wouldn't do for some authentic german cheese sacks and vinegar cucumbers right now. maybe even play a game of solitaire, and finish the night off with some cherry pie!

lost in [translation]

so, we had our first snow of the season today. bundling up to head off to work today, i was reminded of a story i thought would be appropriate for this weather.

it was my first year of college, and winter had set in. living on campus, i walked everywhere. it only took one long walk to history class and some incredibly frozen ears to realize my winter coat was not keeping every part of my body warm. i needed a "dootsy cap".

on my way back to the dorms i stopped at "the derb" to grab lunch. seeing one of my friends, carl, at a table, i sat down next to him. after discussing the food offering that day, we both remarked how terribly cold it was.

"speaking of that" i said, "do you know where in town i could find a 'dootsy cap'"?


[dumbfounded look on carl's face, followed by silence]


"a what?" he finally asked.

"a dootsy cap" i again stated

"i don't have a clue about what you're talking about!"

"you know...like a little knitted hat...you put on your head...to cover your ears!" i explained,

"do you mean, a stocking cap?"

"yeah, i guess you could call it that" i said

after finally getting on the same page, carl told me to check the mall for my "dootsy cap".

later that day, i made the trek to the mall, and eventually found what i was looking for, all the while wondering why i had thrown carl for such a loop.

trying to figure this all out, that night, i called my parents to clear up this little vernacular mishap. all my life, during the winter months, i was told to put on my "dootsie cap". it's what my parents had called it, so that's what i had called it. after laughing at me for just a bit, my parents explained it was a term passed down from my german heritage. my great grandparents and grandparents come from a very strong german community in kansas. after a few generations living in this area, the geman language had been modified, changed, shortened, and broken down, untill it had become it's own sort of german-american slang. one word that still found it's way into my own daily use was "dootsie kopf" which roughly translates as a stocking cap with a "poofy knit ball" on top, to wear on your head. hearing this as a kid, i myself changed it to "dootsy cap". i had no reason to ever question this word, as i had apparently had never used it in public before. i mean really, how often are stocking caps the center of conversation?

after some slight embarrassment, i was sort of proud that this "slang" word had made it down to my generation without question. a little bit of volga german pride came out that day. although in most conversations now, i'll refer to it as a "stocking cap", in my head, it'll always be a "dootsy cap".

so this winter, stay bundled up,...and don't forget your "dootsy caps".