Maps and Blacklists

I'm about 80% positive that I have been blacklisted.

I honestly think that the government keeps tabs on yours truly. I have reasons to believe this. The fact that I always get asked to step aside by airport security for an extra check, is one of the many happenings that has led to my assumption that I am blacklisted. Also, I think it's because I'm not Jewish and majoring in Holocaust Studies. And I order a lot of books online. And maps. And I travel quite frequently.

Have you seen the maps I own?



another view:



Don't mind the Elvis posters and cardboard cut-out.

Maybe it's a little hard for you to see exactly which maps I have placed on the walls of my living room? I'll walk you through a couple of them.

Here is my most valuable map:



Please understand, none of my maps are valuable (money wise), per say. They all have a reason and purpose that relates to my education. Borders, countries, names, etc... are not the same as they were during WWII, so I refer to this map. a lot.

Here's the title and key:


Let's look at another one of Julie's Maps:



This is the small city of Oswiecim located in Poland. It commonly goes by the name the Nazi's called it: Auschwitz.

I have visited Oswiecim twice.



My first trip to this city lasted for 24 hours. Yes, dear readers Julie has slept in the town of Oswiecim/Auschwitz. Right here:



The Glob Hotel. Not Globe. Glob.

My first trip to Oswiecim was with Susie Q and The Dutchmen. The Dutchmen thought it would be a great idea to spend the night at The Glob (about a half mile from Auschwitz-Birkenau) the night before we were to tour the camps. I saw nothing wrong with his idea. However what he failed to mention prior to our arrival, was that The Glob Hotel is located right in front of the railroad tracks. Also, it is the only hotel in the city. You see, most people don't see the positive aspect of spending the night in a small deserted city which houses the remains of the largest mass killing center in Nazi occupied Poland.

Crazy.

Look again:


Railroad Tracks. While seemingly harmless in any other setting I can assure you, they are not as peaceful when you're staring out a hotel window in the city of Oswiecim/Auschwitz. Tracks that are still used in Poland. Tracks that have trains running on them all night long.

Freaky. I know.

You couldn't pay me to stay there again.

Recap:
I've spent the night is Oswiecim, I own multiple (educational) maps of concentration and death camps, and too many books to count, and (of course) DVD/documentaries that are Holocaust/WWII related.

Definitely Blacklisted.

Donnie Wahlberg. Celeb Nicknames. and Presidents.

It's Monday morning. I suppose you knew that already.

Today's post involves stories of Miss M, Donnie Wahlberg and Celeb Nicknames.


Let's start with a fun memory:

In the early 90's, I shared a bedroom with Miss M. Actually, we shared a bed.
Being that I have a certain tendency to talk in a "Chatty-Cathy-Julie" style; staying quiet at night was hard for this girl. Miss M would yell(usually more than once a night): "Mom, can you come in here and make Julie be quiet?!"
In which, Susie Q would would open our door and gently remind me that it was time to sleep.

That usually only kept me quiet for a couple of minutes.

Miss M had to find a solution on her own, heaven forbid her sleep be compromised by her punk kid sister.

Again people, let me remind you: it was the 90's.

Five letters: NKOTB.

Above our bed, Miss M had hung a NKOTB poster. Now, I love NKOTB as much as the next girl. But when I was 6 years old, Donnie Wahlberg was FRICKIN SCARY LOOKING.

So, to shut her kid sister up (kid sister with an impressive imagination, I'd like to add) Miss M would say in a 'gritted-teeth-tight-lipped' tone (to make her sister understand the severity):

" Julie! If you don't zip your lips Donnie is going to come out of that poster and eat you!!"

Okay. Again, I was 6 years old. Anyone remember what Donnie Wahlberg looked in 1991? Let me remind you:



Point of story: Unless you want to have nightmares of Donnie Wahlberg with a gotee, crazy side-burns, wearing a bandanna and has the eyes-of-the-devil as he's running after you in a forest while simultaneously attempting to bite you; shut up and go to bed.

Next topic for today: I have always loved, loved, LOVED celebs whose Hollywood nickname is their initials.

Examples:

JTT ( Jonathan Taylor-Thomas)


I don't care what year you were born; all girls of the 90's had a JTT crush at one point or another. Excuse me, did you actually think that we were watching Home Improvement because of Tim Allen. Please.

RDJ (Robert Downey, Jr.)

Noooooooooo, not this RDJ:


I'm talking about the sober RDJ. This Handsome RDJ:



Do you remember the film Only You? You shouldn't, it was a terrible film. However, if you haven't seen Charlie Barttlet, you're missing out.

SJP ( Sarah Jessica Parker)
Now, I like Sex in the City, but I first came to know SJP as 'Janey' in Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Before she married Ferris Bueller:



and who could forget her side-kick, Lynne? Helen Hunt doesn't make the list of celebs with the best nick-names--but I'd hate for my readers to not know what Helen Hunt looked like in this 1984 flick:



No blog about celeb nicknames is complete with out these fine men:



JFK, RFK, and EMK. John Fitzgerald, Robert Francis, Edward Moore

and.... since were taking presidents:



FDR (Franklin Delano Roosevelt) ps-- I am not a fan of that guy.

and



LBJ (Lyndon Baines Johnson)


Here's a personal favorite:



MLK, Jr.


The next two pics involve men who are not known for their nicknames. However, this is my blog and I'm breaking the rules.

I love this picture of Theodore. I can't help but wonder what he's laughing at.



I'll end this post with a little something to make you smile on a Monday morning:

My People ~ Part I

Because I know you're all dying to know, or because I should have done a better introduction before now; I'm going to take a brief moment and introduce you to 'my people'. We all have them. The ones you call when you're happy, sad, or just need to talk. I'll start with Susie Q and The Dutchmen. My parents.


Don't they look cute in this picture? The photo is a little dated, taken 5 years ago at Miss M's wedding. To this day it remains my favorite picture of them. Happily married after 30+ years, and the most genuine people I've ever known.




Meet my sister, the Divine Miss M and her husband Doc Holiday. Miss M has taught me a lot in life. I don't think a little sister could ask for better role model. She's very smart, sassy, and chic.

Doc is from Jersey. He is a funny, geeky, goofy, smart-alack, (sometimes) purple, sports freak. He also has an accent. Not a 'Joysey' accent, it's a mix of the east coast/mid-west; one has to hear him speak to understand.
Doc and Miss M are two peas in a pod. Love ya guys!

This is one of my favorite pics of me and Doc from Xmas 2009.

We were watching Oklahoma! and obviously, very excited.


Last but not least...





My big brother, Wyatt Earp. He's a laid back, outdoor lovin', sarcastic,"mess with the bull, you'll get the horns", kinda guy. And he likes guns. So I call him Wyatt Earp. (If you havent noticed, Tombstone is one of my favorite movies).

Like Doc Holiday, Wyatt Earp also has an accent. He acquired it over the years. One word: Fargo.

I'll give you a quick example of how he sounds. This is a exact word-for-word voicemail he left me a couple nights ago: "Yaw, Julie? Okey, yaw, this 'ers yer brother. Yaw....I'm gonna need yaw to call me back. Awwwww, yah. Yaw know 'de number. Awwww, ookay? Yep, guess that's all. Tak to yaw soon."

He's Wyatt Earp. 'nuff said.

I still have plenty more people to introduce (which is why this is titled Part I). For now, these are the people who will commonly appear in my chronicle. Part deux will come later....

"Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city." -George Burns

My First Trip to D.C.

Each family has a set of rules, regulations, and traditions that (one way or another) get passed from child to child. Some of these experiences one needs to do physically, others, one only needs to speculate in order to learn.

Here are some lessons that I know:

• If you want to know how it is that a stove makes things hot; ask someone. Don't stick your fingers on a red coil.
• Having your own bedroom can only be truly appreciated after you have endured the pain of sharing one.
• Getting an American-Girl Doll is not for lackadaisical people. To obtain that beautiful doll, one first must read the books.
• If you want to get your ears pierced when your 8, you cant. Why? Because your sister chose to pierce hers when she was 12. An older sibling's decisions do impact your life.
• A father will allow you to sit on his lap when you're 5 yrs old as he drives the family's 25+ ft. RV. However, he will not teach you how to drive (sans license) until you are at least 14.
• Acknowledging that it was Yoko’s fault is the only way to heal the wounds of the Beatles breakup.
• Dying your hair without parental consent should only be done after you are too old to spanked.
  

Traditions and life lessons are important to children.

I have come to realize that these traditions are much more significant to the youngest child.

Julie: “Mommy, why does Miss M get to do that when I can’t?” a phrase I muttered to my mom (all too often) while growing up.

Susie Q: “Well, dolly… that’s because Miss M is older.”

Julie: “That’s not fair. I wanna do it, too!”

Susie Q: “Yes, it is fair sweetheart. You’ll understand someday when you’re older."

Julie: "When am I gonna be older?"

Susie Q: "Soon, hunny. Just be patient."

Readers, Please Note: The youngest child, by definition, means there is never a day when you will become ‘older’ than your siblings. You will always be their little sister and they will forever and always remind you of that.

Anyways, in my family, one of the most anticipated traditions (which happened at a young age) was going with my dad on a business trip to Washington D.C. Well, we didn’t necessarily attend the business aspect of the trip. We tagged along for the sight-seeing and quality father/child time.

The tradition of the D.C. trip started when my dad took Miss M, my sister. At that time, it was a spur of the moment idea; my dad had to go out east for work and he thought his (oldest) 10 year old might want to see all the glory that is: Washington D.C. What he probably wasn’t thinking was how he would have to repeat this trip (with kids) two more times. Taking Miss M, meant that the next year he took my brother, Wyatt Earp, when he was 10 yrs old. Fair is fair.

Five years later, in the spring of 1996, it was my turn. I was finally the age my siblings had been when they took the glorious trip. I had reached the pivotal age. There was no more waiting. My dad and I were going to Washington D.C. My wait was over.

D.C. was everything I thought it would be. All three days of it. The first couple mornings my dad went to his business meetings, while I stayed in the hotel watching cable TV. A luxury I had not previously known. Each day after lunch, we’d hit the town.

The following days/afternoons were filled to the brim with sight-seeing, walking, talking, and asking questions. We saw (in no specific order): the Capital, The Air and Space Museum, The Washington/Lincoln/Jefferson Monuments, Ford’s Theater/ the house across the street where Lincoln died, Arlington National Cemetery, Mount Vernon, ect...

Of all the things we did in D.C., surprisingly, we did not go to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. I would not see the inside of USHMM until 1998. This, in hindsight was a good thing. I was still young, and needed more education on how to understand the Holocaust. Bringing a child, who is too young into USHMM, can do a potential amount of damage to the child’s psyche if he/she isn’t properly educated or prepared.

One day after sight-seeing and a great seafood dinner, my dad and I were walking around taking in the night-life of D.C. (night-life that is appropriate for a 10 year old). We stumbled upon a small Indie theater which happened to be showing Anne Frank Remembered.

It had come back. Not just my interest in the story of the girl who had baffled my mind. This time it was more complex. This film had childhood friends of Anne talking about her life in the concentration camps. Her life after her diary. The life that was lost. The life that died.

While watching this film I realized that the odds of surviving the Holocaust were not good, but plausible. There are survivors. Humans, who lived, breathed, who endured the unthinkable and were/are able to talk about it. Through film I could witness these survivors.

In my family, we're not really 'sport enthusiasts'. We don't watch football (unless Miss M and her husband Doc Holiday are visiting). On occasion we enjoy a Twin's game, but that's about it.

That's because my family, deep in the depths of our souls, we're movie people. The Academy Awards might as well be the Super Bowl. It's a night filled with snacks and pop galore. Three hours of cheering (or) booing at the TV. It's an event we look forward to all year.

Susie Q, my mom, who is an overly nice and very soft spoken lady, has been known to give a good holler or two at the TV during the Academy's. It is, after all, serious business.

That winter, my 'movie-lovin' family' was (of course) watching the Oscar's. If you're a movie lover, you know what year I'm talking about.

• Whoopi was the emcee.
• BraveHeart, Apollo 13, Pocahontas, and Toy Story were all big hits.
• Brad and Gwyneth were still a couple.
• And, who could forget Kirk Douglas being honored that year? Well, an average person might have forgotten that part. According to my dad, there is no greater gift that cable TV has to offer than Turner Classic Movie (TCM). This wasn't just Kirk Douglas; this was Spartacus! It was a great night.

Then suddenly, that night became one I would never forget.

Then there it was! My D.C. movie had returned. It was nominated for Best Documentary. And, it won! Before I knew it, Miep Gies was on stage. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. She received a standing ovation from the audience. Chills ran up and down my back.

After a brief moment of shock, I started yelling, " I saw that film! I saw that film! Mom!! It's Miep Gies. IT'S MIEP GIES!"

My family has always encouraged my interest in studying the Holocaust. But at that particular moment during the Oscar's, I can't say that they shared in the excitement.

Julie: "Dad!! We saw that film!!" I squealed with excitement.

The Dutchmen: "We sure did, kiddo." he said

Julie: "Mom! Miss M! I, like, totally saw that!! In the theater. In D.C.!"

Susie Q: "Wow, hunny. Isn't that a coincidence?" my mom said softly.

Coincidence and Fate. Two words that have played a huge part in my life. Was it a coincidence that I saw that film (a documentary that never would have been played in the theater in my small hometown)? Was it fate that I went on my trip to D.C. at the exact time that film was in theaters?

I think that my trip to D.C. (and of course, the Academy Awards) were pieces to my life puzzle.

I'll wait to share the next piece of my puzzle until next time.

One Saturday afternoon in 1993

As is the case of most American/non-Jewish children, I was introduced to the Holocaust and WWII through Anne Frank.

It was a Saturday afternoon in the fall of 1993. My mom was out of town and it was up to my dad find an activity which all three of his children would enjoy. The Anne Frank Museum was traveling around the US and happened to be in St. Paul for a couple months. Being the history-lover that my dad is, he used that Saturday as an opportunity to educate his three children on WWII. Or, in my case, introduce Anne Frank and the Holocaust to his youngest child, who was in 3rd grade.

We spent the afternoon looking at the exhibit. My siblings, who were 12 and 13 at the time, went ahead of my dad and me. This was probably because I wouldn’t or couldn’t stop asking questions.

“Who is Anne Frank?”

"What are Nazi's?"

"Why didn’t someone stop them?"

"What's an Annex?"

“Where’s Amsterdam?”

"Why did they hate the Jews'?”

I had questions growing out of my ears; you get the just of it.

After a few hours, and my very patient father who was trying his best to explain an unexplainable event to his 8 year old daughter, we left the exhibit and went into the bookstore.
I remember walking though the first couple rows when my dad picked up a book, flipped though it and handed it to me.

"Here's a good one, Hunny Bunny." he said.

And it was.

As I waited for the rest of my family to finish picking out what they wanted, I opened my book. I opened my book and it changed my life.

Seriously.

I have a theory of why I am so passionate about studying and educating others about the Holocaust.I was introduced to the unthinkable facts of the Holocaust when curiosity and questions consumed my life. Before this exhibit, most of the books I had read were fictional. With fictional characters.

There are no characters while reading about the Holocaust. There are only real Human Beings.

As an 8 year old girl, my reading consisted of books that were mainly 'series' oriented. There was the usual Boxcar Children, The Baby-Sitter's Club, Beezus and Ramona, Superfudge, Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, etc...

After I read Anne Frank I realized that there could not be a sequel or 'series' that would follow her story of hiding in annexes or her many adventures.

Anne had died.

My curiosity of the Holocaust had come to life.