Remembering Charlie Merrick and Norman Krim - - They Remembered It All!!!

Charlie Merrick (several generations older than Marash Girl) and Norm Krim (a generation younger than Charlie Merrick) . . . though neither knew the other, the Norm who lived in the East and one who lived in the West (the East and West of Massachusetts), both good friends of Marash Girl, both wih incredible memories . . . On different occasions (as the two never met), Marash Girl asked them the secret to their incredible memories . . . and they both had the same answer. "I write it down . . . ," Charlie in his yearly bound memorandum, and Norm in his little black book from the Harvard Coop. Oh, and let Marash Girl not to forget to add that they read their writings over on a regular basis, just to insure that they would remember those facts and incidents correctly!!! How Marash Girl misses Charlie Merrick and Norman Krim!!!

A Good Samaritan . . .

A week ago this morning, a good Samaritan, albeit 8 miles west of Boston, Massachusetts, found an automobile license in the woods bordering the Charles River, and returned that license to its rightful owner (Marash Girl's neighbor). Thank the Lord for his sharp eyes and caring heart!

And Speaking of Depressing . . . or rather the Depression . . .

Marash Girl's father Peter would tell of folks who, during the Great Depression, used to go to the Bick in Cambridge, (better known as Hayes Bickfords), ask for a glass of water (which was without cost), pour tomato ketchup (also without cost) into the water, and gratefully drink . . . their nutrition for the day.

"Why do books have to be depressing in order to be considered great?"

"Why do books have to be depressing in order to be considered great?" asked Deron when he was in junior high school. A thought-provoking question . . . .

Marash Girl Paused For The Cows To Cross Waltham Street

"One day left from the old days?" So Marash Girl thought as she would stop during her commute from suburban Newton to Lexington High School . . . stop to let the farmer and his cows cross from the field on the eastern side of Waltham Street to the field on the western side of Waltham Street. As her father would be commenting, were he still here with us, "Those days are gone . . . forever!"

Politics in Maryland

Lorig Charkoudian: A Force To Be Reckoned With In Maryland Politics

Photo Credit: Aline Charkoudian-Rogers

Marash Girl, Marash Martha, and Country & Western Music

Growing up in Newtonville, Marash Girl and Marash Martha, then only 5 or 6 years old, were gifted a radio by their father and mother. (Perhaps because they would wake up so early in the morning that they didn't allow their mother and father the sleep their parents needed!). The two girls delighted in listening to "Country and Western Music" on that radio, music that began playing, as Marash Girl remembers, as early as 5 o'clock every morning. It was such fun for the girls that Marash Martha actually, at one time, wanted to grow up to be a "cow girl"! Recalling those days, Marash Martha writes,"The best part was the yodeling!"

A PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE OR A PHYSICAL PHENOMENON?

"EVERY ACTION HAS AN EQUAL AND OPPOSITE REACTION!" Grandpa Peter, Marash Girl's father, always quoted Newton's Third Law of Motion (cited above) -- his favorite object lesson!!!!

Line Dancing in Boston, Massachusetts

Marash Girl's recent chat with Professor Renato R. (Chato, as she knew him) called to mind the time Marash Girl, while at the Armenian Booth of the Fun Fair (an outdoor fair sponsored yearly by the International Students Association in Cambridge, Massachusets,) sold tickets for an Armenian dance taking place in Boston that evening, to a young Navaho man (a student at Harvard College at the time), tickets for the Harvard/Radcliffe/BU/Tufts/Jackson/Simmons Armenian Dance.... (a fundraiser for the Harvard-Radcliffe Armenian Club, as well as for the Armenian clubs of the other colleges and universities in the Boston area). Attending the event, while dancing the Armenian line dance at which Marash Girl's mother and father were "chaperones", Alan (her Navaho friend) commented that the simple Armenian line dance, the "bar" as it was called in Armenian, was eerily (Marash Girl's word) familiar, calling to mind the simple Navajo line dance. Two peoples geographically distanced, and yet . . .

The French on Vaccinating Against the Corona Virus

Un petit truc pour faire rigoler. J’ai reçu le suivant de la part de ma copine Corine en France qui est médecin. ... _________________ Un médecin a décidé de vacciner un Anglais, un Français, un Allemand et un Américain. Il dit à l'Anglais : - C'est par ici votre vaccin s'il vous plaît. - Je ne veux pas! - Allez ! Un gentleman se ferait vacciner. Et l'Anglais s'est fait vacciner. Le médecin s'adresse à l'Allemand: - Maintenant c'est ton tour. - Non merci ! - C'est un ordre ! Et l'allemand s'est fait vacciner. Le médecin s'adresse a l’Américain : - Maintenant, c'est à votre tour. - En aucun cas ! - Mais vous savez, votre voisin s'est fait vacciner. Et l’américain s'est fait vacciner. Le médecin s'adresse au Français : - A vous maintenant ! - Je ne me ferai pas vacciner ! - Allez, un gentleman se ferait vacciner. - En aucune façon ! - C'est un ordre ! - Non ! - Vous savez, votre voisin s'est fait vacciner... - Je m'en fous ! - Écoutez... qui êtes-vous exactement ? - un Français. - Ah, un Français ! De toutes façons, vous n'avez pas droit au vaccin. - COMMENT ÇA, JE N'Y AI PAS DROIT ???!!! .... et le Français se fit vacciner.

On Reading Books Borrowed From A Library

Marash Girl loves to read in bed, and because of that, stopped borrowing books from the library . . . after all, who would want to go to bed with a book that someone else has already gone to bed with!!!!

And Remembering Jack Bezjian

The foremost memory of Jack Bezjian, Marash Girl's mom's cousin who lived in Troy, New York, the source of much joy for Marash Girl's family . . . as she was saying, the foremost memory of Jack Bezjian for Marash Girl is the time the family drove to Troy, New York to visit Jack and his family. After a long (and for little Marash Girl, arduous) drive across Massachusetts into New York State, Marash Girl's dad Peter turned his automobile (crowded with all five members of the family) onto the street in Troy, New York, where the Bezjians lived, and there, waiting for them, was Jack Bezjian, standing at the corner of the street swinging a lantern, welcoming his relatives to his home!

Remembering Henry and Rose (Bezjian) Nofal

When Marash Girl began thinking about summer, especially summers along the North Shore of Massachusetts, summers on the shores of her favorite summer island, Plum Island, she remembered the following. Many years ago, when Henry and Rose (Bezjian) Nofal were visiting Marash Girl's family in Newtonville, Massachusetts, (the Nofals had driven all the way from Troy, New York,) Marash Girl's father decided to surprise his children (Marash Girl and her siblings) and Henry and Rose Nofal with a trip to Plum Island, an island off the North Shore (of Massachusetts). Living in Troy, New York, they rarely had the opportunity of experience the Atlantic Ocean! Arriving at Plum Island (Newburyport, Massachusetts) after driving north for one and a half hours, the Marash Girl's father and his family decided to take their guests for a leisurly walk along the shore of the Atlantic Ocean. Enjoying the warmth of the sun and the music of the surf, they suddenly heard the screams of a swimmer . . . a swimmer who had been caught in the notorious surf undertow of Plum Island. Without hesitation, both Henry and Rose dove into the surf and rescued that swimmer, bringing him safely back to shore. What a wonderful and courageous couple they were! Marash Girl misses those summers on Plum Island and she so misses you, Henry and Rose!!!

Riddle Again!!! Let's see how you do with this one . . .

What kind of brush do you want to avoid at all costs? A prize for the first/best/correct answer!

Why should we support black lives matter?

https://asbarez.com/194482/why-we-should-support-black-lives-matter/

LEST WE FORGET . . .

At rally with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on the Boston Common - April 23, 1965 - (photographer unkown)

"When is it impossible to stay warm under a blanket?" Here's the solution to the quandary!

"When is it impossible to stay warm under a blanket?" Have you figured out the answer yet? Well, here it is! "It's impossible to stay warm under a blanket when it's a blanket of snow!!!" Copyright Marash Girl 2021

HIDDEN SHRINE IN NEWTON CORNER

PRAYER TO THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY IN THE HOLLOW OF A TREE

Photo by Marash Girl 2021 Where is this shrine hidden? A prize for the first person who guesses its correct location.

Note on Mummy and Daddy's Wedding: Blog post for January 15 & January 16, 2021

January 15, 2021 Jennie (from an Aintepsi family) and Peter (from a Marashtsi family) were to get married at the Armenian Brethren Church in Watertown, Massachusetts, but on the day of the wedding, so many of the Aintepsis in the Boston community and so many of the Marashtsis in the Boston community showed up for the wedding that just before the wedding was to take place, the couple had to change the venue of the wedding. All of the guests, (both invited and uninvited), the minister, and the couple to be wedded had to drive to the Baptist Church on Western Avenue in Cambridge, Massachusetts, a church large enough to contain the hundreds(?) of guests who had arrived to celebrate the couple's union. To the best of our knowledge, the minister that married Jennie and Peter on January 15 of 1940 was Reverend Stengaard. Blog post for January 16, 2021 "A Note on Mummy and Daddy's Wedding" Jennie (from an Aintepsi family) and Peter (from a Marashtsi family) were to get married at the Armenian Brethren Church in Watertown, Massachusetts, but on the day of the wedding, so many of the Aintepsis in the Boston community and so many of the Marashtsis in the Boston community showed up for the wedding that just before the wedding was to take place, the couple had to change the venue of the wedding. All of the guests, (both invited and uninvited), the minister, and the couple to be wedded had to drive to the Baptist Church on Western Avenue in Cambridge, Massachusetts, a church large enough to contain the hundreds(?) of guests who had arrived to celebrate the couple's union. To the best of our knowledge, the minister that married Jennie and Peter on January 15 of 1940 was Reverend Stengaard.

Happy Anniversary, Mummy and Daddy!

Happy Anniversary, Mummy and Daddy! Would that you were both still with us!!! Remembering the story that you told about your honeymoon in Washington, DC. Peter drove his bride (who had no driver's license at that time) to Washington, DC, on there honeymooon, but World War Two had just broken out, and there was no lodging anywhere to be found, ("no room at the inn," as it were,) so Peter drove up to a gas station, filled his automobile gasoline tank with fuel, and as he paid the attendant, asked where he and his bride (Marash Girl's Mummy) might rent a room for the night. The gasoline station attendant, hiding a smirk, pointed to the white pillared mansion across the street, and suggested that Peter inquire there. Shy? Peter was not! And so, following the attendant's instructions, he drove across the street and, leaving his bride in the car, walked up to the door of the mansion and knocked. (No, this is not a "knock-knock" joke!). A man (who Peter later learned was the butler) came to the door. "May I help you?" Peter asked to speak with the owner of the house. When the owner came to the door, Peter explained the situation, and asked if she had a room available for rent. "The idea!" replied the woman, offended at such a request. But Peter, charming as he was (and blonde and blue-eyed, to boot), explained his conundrum. The woman said, "Let me see your wife!" (My guess is that she suspected Peter was with a poz.) So Peter motioned for his bride to get out of the car. The woman requested that his bride "turn around" so that the woman could make a more complete inspection. Jennie obeyed and carefully turned around. Satisfied, the woman invited Peter and Jennie into her home, where they were guests (paying no rent) for the next two weeks, having become best of friends with the owner of the house. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the truth, as Mummy and Daddy told it many years ago!!!!

"Pallet Builder/Repair"

Browsing through her "junk" emails, Marash Girl found an advertisement for "Pallet Builder/Repair" . . . It brought to mind the folk song which became popular in the 1960's. (Of course, Marash Girl wasn't even born at the time!) "Make Me A Pallet On Your Floor!" Any of you out there old enough to remember that song?

Hardened White Sugar A Problem?

There Marash Girl found herself with time on her hands, and a five pound bag of sugar . . . why not make a cake for the grandkids? Good idea!!! So "Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard to fetch her poor dog a. . . ." Whoops, wrong story . . . Marash Girl went to the cupboard to fetch her 5 pound bag of sugar, but when she got there, the 5 pound bag of sugar was as hard as a rock!!! Vaaht to do? Vaaht to do? Marash Girl didn't know, and the she no longer had her father's copy of the Encyclopedia Brittanica to consult (wonder if there would have been a solution there?) . . . so she went to the internet, and there (see below) she found the solution!!! "How to soften a hardened 5 lb. bag of granulated white sugar . . . Simply grab a moistened piece of paper towel (it should be damp, not dripping) and place it inside the container that holds the hardened sugar. Leave it in that container, covered, overnight in a cool, dry place and in the morning, remove the paper towel and crush the sugar with a spoon or fork until it becomes soft again." Marash Girl didn't really believe what she was reading. . . nonetheless, she decided to give it a try . . . and 24 hours later . . . guess what? It worked. The sugar was completely granulated when mashed up with a fork or tablespoon. Marash Girl was able to use that very sugar -- the sugar that had been as "hard as a rock" . . . the sugar that she thought she would have to toss out . . . that very sugar, now granulated, she could now use to make cupcakes for her grandchildren!!!! Would that life's "hard" problems could be as easy to soften!

STIMULUS CHECK $600 EACH . . .

Even if you have several wives? Just asking . . .

Riddle Again!!! [DO NOT READ UNTIL TOMORROW!!!]

When is it impossible to stay warm under a blanket? A prize for the first best answer!!!! (You have until Sunday evening to answer, but remember!!! The FIRST best answer wins the prize!)

"You hug too hard!"

Advice from a pro . . . Years ago, when Grandpa Peter was still with us, Grandpa Peter would love to hug the women as he greeted them . . . no formal handshake for him! His friend, Jim, (name disguised to protect the innocent) would always comment: "I don't get it! How is it that the women don't mind your hugging them, but they pull away when I hug them?" "You hug too hard," replied Grandpa Peter, hiding a grin.

Massacre of the White Birches Lives On In Marash Girl's Memory

Thus Marash Girl must once more write of Massacre of the White Birches . . . or The Trees That Paid the Ultimate Price! Summers in Wilbraham, Massachusetts, were carefree, until the town began to pass laws that some folks saw as infringing on their inalienable rights! The new law that was created by the powers that be in Wilbraham, Massachusetts, (perhaps in the 1980's, although Marash Girl can't remember the exact year), was a law preventing individuals from cutting down trees on their own property without the town's permission . . . a tough law to swallow for folks who had been "living free" on their private property all their lives. So how did one man deal with that law? Marash Girl is sure that you can surmise the answer, having read the title of today's blog post. Yes, the fellow who lived on the East side of Ridge Road, perhaps a half mile from the cabin on top of Wilbraham Mountain . . . that fellow whose house overlooked his hillside acre of white birches bordering Ridge Road . . . you guessed it . . . that fellow massacred all of the white birches that fronted his house . . . cut every last one down to a stump . . . stumps he had to look at for the rest of his life! Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face!!!!

A Trip to the Franklin Park Zoo with Little Quail

There the family stood at Boston's Franklin Park Zoo . . . Mama, Papa, Nisa, and three year old Little Quail, peering through the fence separating them from the baby elephant. Little Quail was clutching a half of a peanut butter sandwich in her little fist when the baby elephant reached through the fence with his baby elephant trunk and took Little Quail's peanut butter sandwich right out of her little hand, popping the sandwich into its baby elephant mouth . . . and leaving Little Quail sobbing at the loss of her sandwich (but, it should be noted, that she expressed no fear of the elephant . . .) Little Quail was simply sad that the elephant had taken her snack without even asking!

Շնորհավոր Սուրբ Ծնունդ! Wishing You A Blessed Armenian Christmas!

Krisdos dznav yev haydnetsav! Tsezi mezi medz avedis!

Photo by the MET via the Armenian Museum of America, Watertown, Massachusetts

On Writing A Shakespearean Sonnet

Having tried her best to craft a sonnet à la Shakespeare (in response to her English teacher's writing assignment), Marash Girl was excited to learn what the teacher had thought of her efforts. How disappointed she was (Marash Girl . . . and probably the teacher, as well) when Marash Girl's sonnet was returned, and Marash Girl saw no comments, but rather the sixth letter of the alphabet, capitalized in red ink, at the top of her paper. Vahan Topalian's response? "Don't worry about it! She would have given Shakespeare an F!!!"

What's black and white and red all over?

"What's black and white and red (read) all over?" An age old riddle Marash Girl has dredged up from her childhood . . . a riddle to which most folks would proffer the answer, "a newspaper" . . . but then, if you're a kid, you would be more likely to answer "an embarrassed zebra". . . especially if you had just returned from a visit to the Franklin Park Zoo. Do you, dear reader, have any other wiley answers?

Note to New York Times From Marash Girl - Blog Post for Monday, January 4

To the Editors of the New York Times: Just wanted to let you know that my long since passed away grandma’s maiden name was “Kurgyzian”. She was born during the horrific times of the Armenian Genocide, witnessed the murder of her parents by the unmentionables (I won’t go into the details here) and later in life became blind . . . some say because of what she had witnessed.. My family and husband always tease me that I’m a “Kyrgyz” — although I was born and brought up in the United States of America, granddaughter of Yepros(née Kurgyzian). Just thought you might be interested, as I was, seeing your editorial entitled "BECAUSE OF AN EDITING ERROR”, in which the first paragraph makes reference to Kyrgyzstan, the first time I’ve ever seen my grandma’s place of origin in print in the New York Times!!!! Sincerely, Marash Girl

Faites attention, s'il vous plaît!!!

Value what you have today . . . it may not be here tomorrow!

Grandma Jennie and Cashews on Moody Street in Waltham

Whenever Grandma Jennie would take Marash Girl shopping for a pair of shoes, a dress, or a skirt, shopping for bargains in the shops along Waltham's Moody Street, Grandma Jennie (Mummy to Marash Girl) would always save the best for last! When the shopping was accomplished, or the two were simply exhausted from trekking in and out of the shops, up and down the department store's stairs (no escalators in those days) . . . just before heading for the car, Grandma Jennie (Mummy to Marash Girl) would purchase a small bag of freshly roasted cashews . . . was it at Kresge's or Woolworth's . . . Marash Girl doesn't remember which one, but she sure remembers the cashews! To this day, every time Marash Girl is offered a cashew, she relives those trips, the scent of the freshly roasting cashew nuts, and the fun and excitement of walking along Moody Street with Grandma Jennie! But, as Grandpa Peter would say, "Those days are gone . . . forever!"

Happy New Year! Շնորհավոր Նոր Տարի

Marash Girl wishes you and yours a very healthy and happy NEW YEAR! Շնորհավոր Նոր Տարի! Shnorhavor Nor Dari!