Halloween is a fun event, especially for children. Many of us remember picking out a special costume, dressing up and walking the neighborhood, knocking on doors and saying “trick or treat.”

Back then, Halloween was all about free candy. The scary part didn’t occur to us, but it did to Hollywood. Producers did their best to capitalize on the fright with movies like “Nightmare on Elm Street” and “Scream.”

Parents pushed back, asking for friendly Halloween stories. Witches went from the “Wizard of Oz’s” terrifying Wicked Witch of the West to the sisters on “Charmed.” Vampires no longer lurk outside your window to suck your blood. Now they’re a heart-throb in young-adult romance novels.

Perhaps the change has been because grown-ups don’t like to admit when they’re scared. Deep down, most of us are still kids scared to turn off the lights at night.

Sure ghosts and abandoned houses are scary. But when it comes to really scary, here are some adult things I’ve found to be the most terrifying.

Transmission trouble. Someone telling me they’ve seen a ghost would make me curious. Having a mechanic tell me I need a new transmission is downright terrifying. That repair costs more than the contents of my house.

Check engine light. When that light comes on in my car, I hit the panic button. The problem could be something simple chances are it’ll be an expensive fix. If that light starts blinking, then we’re talking major scare. I tried putting black electrical tape over the light, but my husband said that wasn’t a real fix.

Home repairs. The last time we had a plumber come out to change out some faucets, the bill was over $500. When our air conditioner went out, that cost was in the thousands. So whenever, I hear an appliance complaining, my checkbook starts choking.

The second gray hair. The first gray hair was easy. I’d always said I’d let my hair go gray gracefully. Then my hair exploded in iron-gray strands. Forget aging gracefully. I called Rosie, my friend and long-time hairdresser, and we’ve been banishing those grays for years. I have no plans to stop.

My first grown-up paycheck. I’ll admit I cashed it and asked the banker for all 1’s. That was quite a stack. But when I looked closer at that paycheck and saw all the deductions, I realized the government would be taking a good chunk of my money every single paycheck for the rest of my working life.

My first varicose vein. My first varicose vein showed up when I was 16 years old. My after-school job was standing on my feet for hours working the snack counter at a movie theater. I thought it was just a couple of blue lines, nothing to worry about.

Three kids later, the sides of my knees looked like a road map. I had them checked out and no worries. But I quickly discovered, just that first gray hair, if one shows up, the rest of the whole family’s on its way.

There’s a few other things I’m afraid of. At the top of my fear list is snakes. Any snake, any size, any color. I don’t care if they’re “good” snakes.

As far as I’m concerned, the only good snake is in somebody else’s yard.

In the next town.

In addition to snakes, most people are scared of at least three of the following horrors:  spiders, germs, heights, needles, airports, doctors, zombies, thunder, cockroaches that fly, bats, dogs, ticks, bears, flesh-eating bacteria, sharks, lizards or that balding spot on the crown of your head.

They say to conquer your fears, you need to face them.

I’m all for that.

Unless it’s a snake.

Then I’m running for the hills.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.

 

Plain or fancy, I love museums and historical venues. They allow visitors to walk through time, seeing first-hand the tools, clothing and books people used in their every-day lives.

Museums often get a bad rap for being quiet and, let’s face it, boring. I’ve been to some of those. But museum curators have gotten smarter over the past 20 years, and today’s museums are vibrant, interactive places to visit.

One of the best exhibits I’ve ever toured was the King Tutankhamun display back in 1977. The New Orleans Museum of Art sponsored the event, and over 650,000 people visited. Luckily, I was one of them.

We were fortunate to see the actual King Tut mask that appears in so many photos. Dozens of displays showed what life was like over 3,000 years ago in Egypt. There were plates, combs, vases and a variety of items people used, and probably took for granted. Today, they’re priceless pieces of history.

There are fabulous museums here in Fort Bend County, especially here in Rosenberg and Richmond.

The George Ranch Historical Park is offering Texian Market Days this weekend. If you’ve ever wondered what it was like to watch real cowboys in action, make sure you head out that way. The historical reenactments are phenomenal.

The Rosenberg Railroad Museum has evolved into an incredible visitor’s stop. You can stand on the corner of the museum and imagine how life must’ve been like back in the days when farming was the main source of income.

I had the pleasure of visiting the newly renovated Fort Bend Museum in downtown Richmond, and those who worked on the remodel did a fabulous job. The museum has an open-air feeling, and the exhibits highlight contributions from Fort Bend’s ancestors from all cultures and races.

You’ll find out there was once a prisoner-of-war camp in downtown Rosenberg during World War II and read about the contributions of Hispanic, Black and Anglo settlers to this area. Life wasn’t easy, and the museum does a thorough job of showcasing their contributions.

The group I was with enjoyed a presentation by Jessica Avery, program coordinator at the museum, on some of the haunted houses in this area. With Halloween right around the corner, the presentation was especially interesting.

I knew about some of the spooky places, like the Fort Bend County Jail, but I had no idea there were so many other supposedly haunted places in town. If you want to know more, be sure and sign up for one of the ghost tours the museum is offering before the end of October.

Other areas in the county are striving to bring the history of all cultures to life. Bates-Allen Park in Kendleton is where former slaves would meet to wash clothes while barbecuing and picnicking together. People are working to enhance the park, and it’s worth a leisurely drive to enjoy the park’s quiet and beauty.

If you want to venture into Houston, most of the museums in H-Town are free on Thursdays. Call in advance to make sure, especially if you want to see a special exhibit.

A visit to the Museum of Natural History is worth the drive if you love nature’s gems as is a walk through the Fine Arts Museum if you love works of art. The Holocaust Museum is a somber visit – prepare yourself before visiting.

But there’s no need to venture further than 30 miles from your front door if you live here in Fort Bend County. Find out about the history here in your own back yard with a visit to one of the many museums our county has to offer.

And sign up for that ghost tour – you’ll never know what frights you might encounter.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

 

In the South, family stories are passed down from generation to generation.

No one told Southern stories better than the late Jeanne Robertson.

She was Miss North Carolina in the 1963 Miss America pageant, where she was named Miss Congeniality. With her constant smile, it’s easy to see why. Robertson retains the title of the tallest contestant as she was 6’2” tall.

Many of her shows are now on YouTube, and Robertson is warm and friendly as she weaves her stories of how Southerners handle life.

Some of Robertson’s videos have millions of views because she is so relatable. Her most viewed video is “Don’t Send a Man to The Grocery Store,” and it’s worth every minute of listening time. You’ll particularly enjoy the segment if you’re a right-brained person married to a left-brained person.

Southerners have a particular way of telling stories that put them in their own special category, and Robertson was an outstanding humorist. Perhaps it’s her beautiful Southern drawl, but it’s also in the way she sets up a story and then closes with an unexpected zinger.

One of my favorites is “Don’t Mess with Teenage Hussies” – the punchline at the end is priceless.

Her talk about her Grandma Freddie’s trip to the Holy Land rang true for me. Her grandmother was a public speaker who gave speeches to church groups about a trip to the Holy Land.

After her grandmother passed – bow your heads here, Robertson would say – Robertson found out her grandmother had never been to the Holy Land.

She’d bought a box of slides with scenes from the Holy Land and told stories to groups like she’d been there. The punchline at the end is totally unexpected yet makes sense if you’re from the South.

My grandmother also told stories with flair and drama. I would beg her to tell them over and over. She obliged, and every time, the story became a little grander.

My favorite was about a relative who was reaching out on her death bed for her long lost love. The story was dramatic, filled with lost love and longing.

My mom called foul.

“I was in the room when she died,” mom said. “No reaching, no gasping.”

I much prefer my grandmother’s telling and, as far as I’m concerned, my grandmother’s story is the one I believe to be true.

Robertson’s mother told her early in life to choose a humorous lens through which to look at life. I’ve found if you choose that path, mistakes in life are a lot easier to accept.

When I visited my son in Taiwan years ago, we went to a spa separated into sections for men and women. The last thing my son said to me before he went to the men’s side was “By the way, it’s a nude spa.”

It took me about 20 minutes to get up the courage to get in the inside heated pool. After a bit, I was okay with being au natural.

There was also an outside pool and, frugal person that I am, I wanted to get my money’s worth. So I went outside, in my birthday suit, and saw women sitting around the pool.

In their bathing suits. All staring at this naked American.

I could’ve turned around and run back inside, but with my chins held high, I walked straight and proud to the end of the pool area, looked around, nodded, and then walked back into the dressing area. I tell that story at family reunions, not with embarrassment, but with laughter at myself.

I choose humor, just like the late Jeanne Robertson did, to remember life. Do yourself a favor, find her clips on YouTube, and enjoy some down-home funny stories told by a master humorist.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

 

I come from a Catholic family. We have over 25 first cousins on my mom’s side and about the same on my dad’s side. I’m blessed with 16 nieces and nephews who’ve grown into friends and, best of all, I have six siblings – four brothers and two sisters.

The boys – Jimmy, Johnny, Joey and Jeff – are incredible men. Talented and thoughtful, they survived having three sisters.

Like their brothers, Diane and Donna are creative and caring. More than that, they are strong women and my best friends.

We’ve shared rooms and shoes. We’ve shared clothes, from high school sweaters and skirts to maternity pants and tops.

For many years, we took “sister trips.” We’ve been on a night-time ghost tour in Charleston, played laser tag in Las Vegas and enjoyed a late-night snack on china plates and real silverware at a bed and breakfast in Ashville, S.C.

Most families have a member who’s the firecracker, the one who keeps things lively. Diane, my younger sister by five years, is that for us.

When people asked if she was Denise’s sister, she’d say, “No, Denise is MY sister.” That confidence has served her well.

She studied computer science, graduated from LSU with honors while married with three children under the age of 3. I remember going over to their tiny apartment and seeing her holding a baby while cooking dinner, a textbook propped on the cramped counter.

She is her company’s benefits manager where she knows the rules and never forgets employees are people. She’s held state offices, has volunteered with Child Advocates and has achieved milestones in a field often dominated by men.

All of her children played soccer, and Diane and John never missed a game. For years, Diane was the mom with the camera, and she photographed her children and everyone on the team.

She loves her fantastic children and grandchildren with all her heart and soul. Diane is the person you want on your side because she never gives up and will never surrender.

I owe her an apology because I teased her about having thick, curly hair. Sis, I’d give anything to have your hair and those hazel-green eyes.

Donna is 10 years younger than me but that age difference has never seemed important to us. We connected as sisters and now as friends.

When she was 4-years-old, there was a beauty pageant in town in her age group. I saw the posters and told my mom Donna would win. Donna has the softest brown eyes, gorgeous, thick hair and a smile that lights up any room.

On the day of the pageant, Donna saw all the people in the audience and got stage fright. Those big brown eyes filled with tears. My mom took one look at her scared little girl and told her she didn’t have to be in the pageant.

I was livid. I knew my sister would win and I thought my mom should’ve made Donna compete. Mom did the right thing as Donna didn’t need that beauty pageant trophy – she’s won many more accolades.

Donna taught pre-schoolers for years, and we loved hearing her stories. I envied Donna as it takes a loving adult to get down on a little one’s level with a smile.

She’s now helps high schoolers believe in themselves and find the right secondary education fit. She connects with teens in a special way, and her three now-grown children are incredible humans.

Donna’s always gotten appreciative looks from people as there’s a charisma about her. Not just her beauty but from a light that shines from inside.

Neither Diane nor Donna suffer fools easily – they are just as likely to put someone in their place in the grocery store line as they are at a town meeting.

They’d both give me the shirt off their backs – which they unknowingly did when I raided their closets – and they’ve forgiven me my many transgressions.

I couldn’t ask for better friends than my beloved and delightful sisters, and I thank the heavens every day for putting these smart, generous and quick-witted women in my life.

And for the record, Donna would’ve won that beauty pageant hands down.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.