Exceptional How and Why I learned to Read How I Learned to Read by RaymondJohn

Category:  Biographical Non-Fiction   Posted:  November 21, 2008      Views: 525

RAYMONDJOHN  IN PRINT   ABOUT RAYMONDJOHN  Raymond John is a hopeless FanStory addict who has at times spent as many as twelve hours in a single day reading, reviewing and writing for the site. His three purposes are based on three "Es" which are Explain, Enlighten and Entertain. His greatest fear is to take himself too seriously. He may not always smile, but he always has a twinkle in his eye. Knock his socks off with a fantastic write and he'll be your best cheerleader and give you a banner award, to boot. He has written two novels and numerous short works. His first book, The Cellini Masterpiece, has sold nearly 3,000 copies and received an Honorable Mention in the 2006 IPPY awards. It is now available in a Kindle edition from Amazon.com. An audio version (ISBN 9780615268125) is now available read by the renown actor, James Cada. MP3 edition, downloadable for IPOD, is 14.95. Order at www.raymondjohnbooks.com. His second mystery, Mix and Match Murder, which was originally scheduled for release in September of 2008 is now in print and available from Amazon.com, barnesandnoble.com and North Star Press. A scholar born in the golden age of radio, Raymond always appreciates hearing a well-told story, especially one with action and believable dialogue in a historical setting. I have written and received many reviews. I have a thick skin, so if constructive criticism is forthcoming, bring it on. He has won several contests. The contest submission Mousie, Kittie and Booger was the first place winner in the contest Tales of the Weird.. Gold In Them Thar Words was the first place winner in the contest Tales of the Weird.. Lot 386 was the first place winner in the contest Tales of the Weird.. He is a top ranked author and is currently holding the #22 position. Portfolio | Become A Fan I don't remember when I learned to read, but I do remember how and why. It's all because of red signs I saw along the road on the way to our lake cabin. They still remain as one of my fondest memories. I literally grew up on Burma-Shave. It all started as a game my Mother and Dad used to play as we drove from our home in Minneapolis to Cedar Lake, just east of Annandale. Our cabin was 45 miles from our house. The route meandered west out of town on Wayzata Boulevard on to old Highway 12 to Buffalo where we jogged north to pick up Highway 55. To a four-year-old, it was as boring a drive as you could imagine. Even though I always made sure I had a good supply of comic books to keep me occupied, I'm sure I must have asked my Dad, "Are we almost there yet?" a million times along the way. The only respite from my childish ennui were three stretches of road with red signs with white lettering. Mom and Dad would pull me away from Mickey Mouse with loud voices. I couldn't read what the signs said, but I always joined in the finale as we passed the last of the five or seven signs. "Burma Shave!" Not surprisingly, they became the first two words I could actually read. The realization that symbols stood for words must have come as a real shock to me. I was fascinated. Before long I could recognize "he," "she," and "the." From there, my vocabulary increased quickly. Mom was delighted in my interest and helped me learn how to sound words out. By my sixth birthday, I could read most of the words, and we each would take turns reading verses, laughing uproariously at the jokes. Dad didn't use Burma-Shave, he used a brush, but he sometimes brought it with him when he made trips down to Ames, Iowa, for the gas company. I didn't particularly like the smell of it, but he told me it smelled a lot worse when they first began to make it back in the nineteen-twenties. It didn't matter. It was the signs that meant so much to me. Dad told me they were all over the country, and even in some foreign countries. Everyone recognized them. Next to Kilroy and Coca-Cola, it was the most famous logo in the world. And it was even made in Minneapolis. That made me feel especially good. I've always been very proud of being a Minnesotan. One day as we were driving to our cabin, Dad made a detour a few blocks off the route as we were leaving. He pulled over along the curb and announced, "This is where they make Burma-Shave." I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe something like Santa's workshop, but it was just a long, unimpressive building near the banks of Bassetts Creek. Little did I know that I would spend most of my life in a house less than half a mile away. Nor did I realize how soon the product and the signs would disappear. I would have been very sad. My Burma-Shave Sign contest was a joyous trip down memory lane, a perfect anodyne for the worry and unhappiness of the world we now live in. In those days, nobody even knew about the ozone layer, and how the Freon we would later use in air-conditioners would destroy it. With the bitter winters we spent half-way between the equator and the north pole, global warming would have seemed something to look forward to. My Dad didn't own any stock in the stock market, and we were all happy with our '37 Chevy. Most of all, we could never understand why people wouldn't always be able to get a laugh out of those funny red signs along the road, and how they could motivate children to want to be able to read. Ah well.... Recognized Share your own writing! - Information on our membership for writers. Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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