May 31, 1992

Special newspaper needs a few pennies for kids' thoughts

May 31, 1992/ Beverly Beckham

The 21st Century is not a typical newspaper. It isn't full of murders, thefts, fires, scandals, betrayals, bankruptcies and national and international conflicts.

It is instead a kind of journal, an introspective and reflective compilation of essays, stories,letters, poems, reviews, photos and cartoons written and captured by teen-agers throughout New England.

Each month when the paper arrives, I look through it and think: This stuff is good. These kids can write. They can take pictures. They're aware. They think. They worry. They care.

May 08, 1992

`Good' waits to be noticed

May 08, 1992/ Beverly Beckham

I was driving to Beverly a few weeks ago and listening to a tape I'd borrowed from the library, a book tape. The tape "Joshua" was a religious parable, which I hadn't realized when I'd checked it out. It was preachy and overly dramatic and tacky.

But I was on a long drive in a car with a broken antenna, and it was this tape or nothing, so I listened.

May 01, 1992

Kids of St. Mary's connect

May 01, 1992/ Beverly Beckham

They wanted me to write about them.

I said no because I generally don't. Really, where's the story, I thought?

I go into schools now and then and talk about how I got started as a writer. I tell a couple dozen kids that if you do something long enough, if you try hard enough, you eventually get better at it.

April 28, 1992

Cable offers new adventures in slime

April 28, 1992/ Beverly Beckham

The station is WWOR, Channel 9, from New York, now delivered to us through our cable system.

It's not an x-rated station. We don't subscribe to it. It comes free with our basic package, and like most every other TV station, it's packed full of news and talk shows and re-runs.

Last Thursday at 7 a.m. the station showed "James Bond Jr.," followed by "Widget," "Head of the Class," "It's a Living," "Jenny Jones" and "Nine Broadcast Live."

Nine Broadcast Live is the subject of this column.

April 24, 1992

When THE catalog arrives

April 24, 1992/ Beverly Beckham

The new Victoria's Secret catalog arrived sometime last week, but I haven't been able to get my hands on it until now. The men in my house love the thing. They must have a sixth sense, a kind of male E.S.P. Either that or they secretly phone ahead to find out when the catalog is being shipped, because they always know the moment it's in the mailbox, and grab it the second it arrives.

April 21, 1992

Irish family feuds are no joke

April 21, 1992/ Beverly Beckham

Two Irish jokes:

What's a well-balanced Irishman? A guy with a chip on each shoulder.

What's Irish Alzheimer's? It's when you never forget everything except the grudges.

It's not nice to tell these jokes, I know. They perpetuate a stereotype and make light of a terrible disease.

But the jokes make a point. I've never met an Irish family where everyone gets along.

April 17, 1992

Church could say `come home'

April 17, 1992/ Beverly Beckham

The ad has been running in newspapers for more than a month now. "Rediscover the Catholic Church." It isn't a bad ad. The words are all in the right places. The intent is clear.

But the message is strained, because the tone is formal and distancing. "More than anything, we can show you how to rekindle your relationship with God. We can show you an approachable God, a merciful God, a God who gladly welcomes those who come back to Him."

March 20, 1992

Life full of `little' adjustments

March 20, 1992/ Beverly Beckham

Let's see if I have this straight. This is how we must live our lives: We must never talk to strangers, must in fact, walk with our eyes down as if we are deep in thought, while we stride purposefully on our way. Purposefully is the key. We want our body to give out the message: don't mess with us. That's what the experts say.

We must walk on brightly lighted streets in groups, never alone in the dark. We must constantly be on guard. Is there someone behind us? Is that someone too close? Quick, cross the street and walk more purposefully. We must walk alone through parks or alleys or even sparse woods.

February 07, 1992

The place where time stands still

February 07, 1992/ Beverly Beckham

The dream was a subconscious effort to hold on. I dreamed about flowers, fields of vanda orchids, red hibiscus, pink plumeria, hibiscus, anthuriums, birds of paradise. The scent of the flowers followed me out of the dream, along with the heat of the sun, coconut trees rustling in the breeze, waves crashing against the shore.

My husband told me I sang in my sleep. "Hello, sweetheart, aloha. Aloha from the bottom of my heart." "You were actually in tune," he joked. I have never sung in my sleep before. I have never sung this song while awake before. But then I have never felt so removed from reality, so at peace with the world, so content - not in years, not since I was a child.

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