The Secret History of Oo*Ahh

Did you know that oo*Ahh has existed for over twenty years? It's true.

I created oo*Ahh in 1991 as a gossip rag to circulate among close friends my sophomore year in high school. I spent hours conducting interviews with friends, writing articles, drawing pictures, and cutting and pasting it all together (literally, with scissors and tape). We didn't have the internet yet, folks. 

Here are three different 1991-era covers and an article (a handwritten, transcribed phone interview with my best friend Beth about the existence of the Easter bunny and Santa Claus).

Then, ten years ago, as a graduate student of English at SUNY Brockport, I started oo*Ahh again as a zine. The goal was two-fold: to keep my writing practice alive while avoiding the real work of my Master's thesis.

During down time at my day job, I would write short articles, cut and paste pictures (the way I'd done it in high school), and make photocopies of the oo*Ahh zine. When I went to class in the evening, I would bring a stack of oo*ahhs with me and drop them off in the English department. To my surprise, the stack was almost always gone when I went back the next night (though, who knows, someone may have just thrown them all out). We weren't recycling yet, folks.

So, if you're looking for back issues, hit me up! If not, just enjoy the "artwork."

Running the Christmas Emo-Brain-K marathon

I used to be an athlete. I played (in order from terrible to very good):

1) Soccer (Terrible). I was a goalie and I was eight years old & once someone kicked the ball into my head during practice and still managed to score the goal.

2) Basketball (Not very good). Freshman year in high school, I made the JV team simply because I was tall, and could rebound (picture Wilt Chamberlain as a 14-year-old girl wearing umbros).

3) Softball (Also not very good).  I was also on the JV softball team my freshman year in high school, but God knows why. My best friend Beth and I were constantly benched, except most times there wasn't even a bench, so we just sat in dirt on the side of the field, naming the batter's helmets with a roll of masking tape and a Sharpie.

4) Baseball (Fair). For a ten year old playing on an all-boys' Little League team, I was especially resilient when my teammates called me names. I also remember hitting a couple of solid doubles.

5) Volleyball (Pretty good). Freshman and Sophomore year of high school I played on the JV team. I had a hell of a serve, until I dislocated my shoulder during practice. Subsequently, I started doing theater, but that is another blog post.

6) Field Hockey (Very good). Freshman and sophomore year, I played on the JV team, and was even captain of the team during sophomore year. I also played on the Varsity team my junior year in high school. I was a brute of a halfback. You wouldn't have recognized me. I could steal the ball away from any of those little plaid skirted ladies. I could also run really, really fast. (#23 in the pic).

During my junior year of high school, when I was at the top of my field hockey game, I could run a mile in just about eight minutes. I heard that was pretty good. Yep, I've been hanging onto that compliment for just over twenty years now.

But for all the sports I used to play, and all that running I used to do, I've never kept up with it.

Wait. I did try running once during a summer break after my first year at college. I remember I even made a mix tape with Toto's "Africa" on it for inspiration. I wound up getting heat stroke and never running again. I don't blame it on Toto.

The type of running I do now, however, is what I like to call Emo-Brain-K marathons (emotional marathons run in my brain). They mostly involve running around in my head, obsessively perseverating on thoughts and ideas until I'm completely exhausted. Very few people cheer for me and even fewer offer cups of water. I'm not blaming you. 

If you suffer from anxiety or depression, you know what I'm talking about. If not (and/or if you are a real runner of marathons) I am super jealous. 

The holidays can be especially challenging for those of us who run Emo-Brain-Ks. We replay events from our past, not too unlike the plot of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, but often without spiritual tour guides to help us draw concrete conclusions. Also, if we're feeling ornery, it's not because we are intrinsically Scrooge-like, it's because (like Scrooge), something in our past has stuck with us and the psychic pain is hard to shake off.

Hopefully, our Ghosts of Christmases Yet to Come will soon show us much brighter pictures of ourselves, surrounded only by those cheering us on, handing us cups of water -- learning not to run so many Emo-Brain-Ks alone.

Mom's Birthday

Today my mother would have turned 61.

Last year, two days after her 60th birthday, she died at home just as the sun was coming up. It was the cruelest light I'd ever known.

For the past year I've walked around with an unparalleled emptiness. This morning I took that emptiness and forced myself awake early to take a walk. After a few blocks, when my ears were ice cold, I realized that I'd once again left my winter hat at home. Then I remembered how angry my mother used to get when I didn't dress properly in cold weather.

Just then, I heard a young mother across the street struggling with her son in his stroller:

"You have to keep your hat on."
"No."
"It's cold."
"No."
"Do you want munchkins?"
"Yes!"
"Then you have to keep your hat on."
"No."
"Then you can't have munchkins. Do you want munchkins?"
"Yes."
"Then you keep your hat on."
"No."

I hope he kept his hat on, not only because munchkin donuts are delicious (especially when you're two), but also because his mother just wanted him to be warm and safe.

Today, I'm reminded of all the sacrifices parents make for their children. All the energy, all the love, all the care. Sometimes we don't realize these things until it's impossible to go back and say "thank you." Today, if you're lucky enough to still have your mom, thank her. Thank her for yourself. Thank her for me.

And for god's sake, wear at hat. It's cold outside.