My mother was an avid magazine reader. I can remember from the time I was a child what seemed to be a steady flow from the mailbox to her lap, as she curled up in her favorite chair, cigarettes and ashtray at hand, and depending on the time of day, her cup of black coffee, iced tea (sweetened), Diet Rite, Coke, Tab, or Diet Coke on the table next to her. The magazines: Time, Newsweek, Reader’s Digest, Saturday Evening Post, Look, Life, Ladies’ Home Journal, Better Homes and Gardens, Good Housekeeping, McCall’s, Redbook, TV Guide, Southern Living. No matter where we lived, those magazines with their articles and fiction, recipes and photos, were a constant. But since the times were a’changin’ as fast as our addresses, she also read Mad, Rolling Stone, Ms., and Mother Jones. I don’t think there was any magazine she wouldn’t read, and even after she lived on a fixed income, she kept up a few subscriptions.
She’s holding Joe Willie the cat here, but next to the end table, you can see her bucket o’ magazines. If your eyes are really sharp, you can also see her lit cigarette. She’s in her early forties in this photo.
By the time she died in 2008, those magazines were coming to her at my address.
Even though I wasn’t as absorbed by them as I apparently was in infancy, I would flip through them and then find homes for them: waiting rooms in clinics and doctors’ offices, Lynne’s break room at work, online friends who might enjoy them. Finally the subscriptions began to run out, and today I got this with the October issue of the lone remaining subscription:
The slogan for Ladies’ Home Journal is “Never underestimate the power of a woman.” I concur, but I would add, “Never underestimate the power of a woman who reads.” A lifetime of books and magazines kept a woman who had to drop out of school in eighth grade to take care of sick family members–whose only work outside the home was as a hospital, Red Cross, and museum volunteer–smart, savvy, aware, and connected to generations of men and women, many of whom thought she was pretty damn special. When I saw my nephew recently, he recounted a story of how her “boys” (a group of gay men who befriended her in her seventies) were going to throw a Wizard of Oz party, at which she would go in character as Dorothy (which was, after all, her name). They were able to find everything for her costume except the ruby slippers–so essential that without them, the party was canceled.
No matter; she pretty much thought all of life was her party, and everything she read was her guidebook for making it more interesting.
raising a family that loves and cares about each other, volunteering at the red cross and at a museum, that’s a lot of good work … from a very good woman. I wish I would have known her, I appreciate you sharing her life with me here. I know the LAST ISSUE had to be sad for you.
Shall we discuss how cool it is that your mother read Mad Magazine? She was one incredible woman — seems she passed all the good stuff on to her daughter.
I’m really not sad about the last issue, I promise. I always feel guilty because I rarely make time to read the one magazine I subscribe to, much less her magazines.
She read what her kids were reading, and my brother was definitely a Mad guy. Eventually, most of it trickled down to me, which is how I also read Spin and Marty, the Hardy Boys, and the Walton Boys (not to be confused with the TV series “The Waltons,” which was actually based on the book Spencer’s Mountain).
That’s pretty cool. Good memories.Not all education occurs in a classroom, which is something that your mom apparently knew well. My grandmother read a lot of those same magazines. Not Ms. and Mad, but they got the National Geographic and Audubon Society, and my grandfather read Popular Mechanics and Popular Science too. Passed on a lifelong love of learning.
I never saw my grandparents read anything but the Bible (they were VERY old when I was a little girl, so I have no idea what they might have done when younger). But my parents and both my siblings were/are voracious readers. I’m so glad they were my example!
this was so cool to read. i signed on to check out some art (heh heh) and got all wrapped up (as usual) in beckyness… and reading about dorothy, and about dorothy reading. i, too, love that she read Mad…. something we were not allowed to read as kids, but i had friends who had it and was able to check out Spy Vs Spy when at their houses. did i mention that i love being wrapped up on beckyness? okay… back to work.
I love it when you get wrapped up in Beckyness.
And there’s nothing like Spy Vs Spy.
Thanks for sharing a bit of Becky and Dorothy’s world. I still have a stack of Good Housekeepings on the shelf in the basement which probably means I’m not as good at Housekeeping as Mrs. Anna was.
You’re welcome. And boy, I am nowhere NEAR the housekeeper my mother was. I guess we should have read those magazines with their devotion, huh?
I too have a hard time keeping up with magazines, but I love the idea of life being her party and the magazines were her guidebook –damn those ruby slippers!
Thanks! And I know: You can never find a pair of ruby slippers when you need them. Although with all these high winds and stuff flying around lately…
Really… earthquakes, hurricanes, a whole week of tropical rain that should have landed in Texas (but not flooded Texas). The last storm Thursday turned the sky a mossy key-lime pie green, then black, then pink sunset. The drains backed up at the testing lab and there was a lake for a parking lot.
It does seem like that moisture could spread itself around a bit.
I’m not surprised to learn you began reading before you could walk. 🙂
Rumor has it you began slamming back umbrella drinks before you could walk. Or was that FARB? 😉
<3
It always warms my heart when you do that. =)