Ode to ‘Yankee Magazine’

Most writers aspire to write a novel, which I guess I do, but in the near future, what I really would love to do is write an article for is “Yankee Magazine.”  I’m serious. I don’t see myself writing for “TIME” or “Vogue” or any of those highfalutin glossies.

Am I setting my standards too low? Not really, if you understand how I grew up with this magazine. I discovered “Yankee Magazine” when I was about six or seven years old.  My grandmother had stacks of them wedged in her brass magazine rack next to the newspaper and ‘Family Circle.”

Back in those days, “Yankee Magazine” was a smaller size and much thicker. It was filled with interesting ads for all sorts of interesting New England oddities and chowder and stew cookbooks. It boasted lobster-shaped earrings as well as advertisements for Maine lobster shipped fresh to your front door.

I would curl up in my grandmother’s chair and read several magazines for an entire afternoon as my grandmother watched her soap operas or made dinner.

Wow! “Yankee Magazine” made New England sound so exotic! Where was this place? I didn’t realize at that time that the land-locked, pavement-filled Brass City where I was born and raised was actually a part of this wonderfully mysterious place that featured deep woods, trees, the ocean and snowstorms that could bury a house.

I didn’t have my first taste of lobster until I was in college, but as I began travelling to other parts of the country and even to different countries, I came to appreciate that I was indeed lucky to grow up in New England.

As a child, Waterbury  had (and indeed still has) its share of beauty as the seasons changed and Hamilton Park and Fulton Park became perfect places to jump in giant piles of crisp leaves in the fall and zoom down the steep snow-covered hills on your Flexible Flyer in the bitter winter. Summer and spring in New England were also beautiful with plenty of sunny, warm days and dramatic thunderstorms in the heat of the summer.

With my first job as a reporter and photographer for a small group of weekly newspapers, I really got to see some more rural parts of Connecticut and enjoyed taking a lot of nature-type photos, especially since I had to shoot four rolls of film a week! I would discover beautiful barns and old rock walls, just like those featured in “Yankee Magazine.”

I had read “Yankee Magazine” off and on over the years, but several years ago, I treated myself to a subscription and I really enjoy it. It is filled with stories of crusty, old farmers who fight for their land, hidden treasures, such as shops, natural wonders or hometown eateries off the beaten track, and artists who celebrate the beauty of the region.

Many of my friends have scattered to areas far across the country, but they still love the fall photos I post on Facebook as the leaves here in Connecticut begin to change. Friends have boasted about how much warmer it is where they live and how you can swim there every month of the year, but just like many of the folks portrayed in “Yankee Magazine,” I prefer to stay right here in New England.

Who knows, if I don’t get to write for the magazine sometime soon, maybe I’ll be one of the crusty, old characters featured in one of their stories.  

W
Submitted by Westport, CT

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