Is It Any Wonder I Became a Teacher?

Memoirs of a Six Suitcase Girl in a One Bag Allowance World

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I grew up in 1950s post-war prosperous Baby Boom Northeast USA.  My husband is eleven years older than I am and grew up in postwar ravaged England  where the rationing of food was still in effect until 1954.   I do not remember a time without television.  John did not have a television in his home until he was eighteen.  Due to our difference in ages and places of birth, our cultural icons are very different.

My Dad was here last night and he was reminiscing.  He said, " I remember how much you loved Miss Frances.  Do you remember Miss Frances?  She'd say, "OK,   girls, go get your Mommy.  Tell her Miss Frances needs to speak to her."  Of course I remember!  I'd go out to the kitchen for my mother yelling, "Hurry up!  Miss Frances needs you right now!"  My mother would be doing whatever and she'd say, "Go back there and tell Miss Frances to leave me alone.  I'm busy and she's just wanting to sell me something!"  I'd dejectedly slink back to the living room, sure that Miss Frances was so disappointed in me that she'd  write a letter and no one would let me into kindergarten at Chamberlin School when I turned five. 

You can meet Miss Frances below.  Look at her...so perfect in every way...the dress, the pearls, her bracelet, the perfect timbre and modulation of her voice, the way she always is so calm and happy.  I said bed time prayers in those days and every night after I said my "Now I Lay Mes" and it was begging time, I'd beg G-d for a pony and to wake up and find that Miss Frances was my new Mommy.   I eventually got the pony.  I never got Miss Frances but....................because of her, I became a teacher and then a principal.  I also think I grew up to be a persnickety perfectionist in every way, modeling myself after the ever right, ever perfect, never let 'em see you sweat , never cut yourself any slack , no crumbs on the counter Miss Frances.  You will notice however, there is no cursing, no violence, no nudity, no nothing off the grid behavior where Miss Frances rules the air waves.  Also, pay particular attention to the clip around 3.0 minutes into it.  You will see the most perfect huckstering of a product to children.  It should be in the Huckster Hall of Fame.  If there's a Huckster Heaven, I bet  Miss Frances is up there sipping Dirty Martinis withBilly Mays and The Marlboro Man.