We recently discovered a treasure trove of Lori’s writings from about 1998 through 2011 on her computer backup. There appears to be close to 150 essays, mostly from the two writing groups she participated in at Seabrook, and the UUCMC. I’ve added a small number of the writings in this “Writings” section as a blog, however I’ve dated the blog entries to match the date when she wrote them. In some cases, I dated them based on the time of her life she is writing about. If you go to the last blog post, you can read about her first apartment with Mildred in 1948, and her first job at Bell Labs where she met Karl.  — Kim Goldov

MY LIFE: an answering poem to Martina’s poem to me.

Martina, here’s my answr’ing pome
Written on patio, outside my home.

It’s a gorgeous day, like Boulder’s best;
I’m pleased to sit a while and take a rest.

My life is varied, full and rich,
Proceeding mostly sans a hitch.

Approaching 80 I take every occasion
To challenge my brain or solve an equation.

Alzheimer’s the enemy: I’ll keep him at bay;
Here are some tricks I can do any day:

Sight reading music takes patience and skills,
As do recalling names, numbers and pills.

Computer games and Sudoku add to my pleasure.
Discoveries on google are often a treasure.

To keep my body strong and fit
Thrice weekly to the spa I flit.

On stationery bike or another machine
I work out with vigor, try to keep lean!

Other events to which I go
Are talks, films and concerts: just can’t say “No”!

Time spent with friends adds richness galore;
Whether in person, or phone, how my spirits soar.

My writing group bring much delight;
The topics are varied and a joy to write.

Yet another outlet for challenging my mind
Is French club; those verbs are rarely kind!

How fortunate I am to live near the ocean.
Sun, sea and surf are my favorite potion.

Seabrook Village fills so many needs:
e.g. our doctors follow up all our leads.

The transportation system brings us to spots far and near
Whether stores, libraries, museums, or OceanGrove pier!

And outside of Seabrook are other great places:
The Monmouth Race Track is host to many races.

Malls, some small, some immense
Are super at taking our dollars and cents!

My soul is fed weekly at my Unitarian congregation;
It more than meets my expectation.

So there you have it, Martina dear;
Since you can’t possibly be near.

This not so succinct on going story.
Is told with love by your grandma Lori

AN ODE TO MEG ON HER BIRTHDAY

This is a birthday ode to Meg,
A lovely gal formerly called Peg.
She’s warm, creative, accomplished and bright,
In her company you’ll surely find delight.

Meg’s work is with books, and a most avid reader she; Sadly, from her supervisor she’d love to flee!
Other hobbies which compel our gal
Are beading, cooking, gardening, et. al.

But highest on the list by far
Is playing music, bar by bar.
Meg shares her life with husband Stu.
They’re quite a pair; (they still bill and coo!)

Their close knit family means a great deal;
How they all love gathering for a nice meal.
Mike and Ann and sisters and nieces-
It’s often hard to meld all the pieces!

Travel is another sought after pleasure;
Their many trips abroad are memories to treasure.
Williamsburg is current, mountain tops other goals;
Grand Canyon, wild rivers, maybe even some trolls!

Casper and Sebastian share their life,
Giving them a minimum of strife.
Friends are most important in her story,
Like this author, her old friend Lori.

CARS : REMINISCENCES for May 3, 2006

By Lori Goldschmidt

Dear Mike,

What a fine specimen you were! The evenness of your lines, your height, length and width, so well proportioned, your lovely blue color and impressive boxiness. It was such a pleasure to own you for all those years in the 60’s. Your previous owner had taken such good care of you that, when we acquired you, you were like new. Since we were young and agile, climbing up into your front seat was easy. For guests we provided a little stool.

It was your spaciousness and adaptability that caused us to fall in love with you at first sight. Seven or eight people and large amounts of groceries or baggage or skiis or even our bicycles could be accommodated in your huge interior. Mini-van was a misnomer; we considered you a maxi van. Your builders, the VW’s, called you a Microbus. That’s why we named you Mike.

Ah, those many trips we took in you! Cape Cod, Vermont, New Hampshire, Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, Washington, DC, the Amish country of Pennsylvania, Quebec, Toronto, Expo in Montreal, and eventually, trips to look at colleges, and then to visit Wendy at Boston U. As an added benefit, you needed very infrequent feeding, i.e. gas. Your mileage was impressive.

As frugal travelers we quite often turned you into a camper. We designed and created lovely curtains, and generally made you into an attractive bedroom. Ah, Mike, those were wonderful years. You maintained your good traits for a long time, and, at age ten, you still looked and acted like a five year old. But we couldn’t hold back time forever. Eventually you did begin to show your age. Little cracks and scratches and dents were evident. The little rubber mats were worn, and in winter it was drafty riding in the front seats. It took us a very long time to decide to give you up. How does one simply discard a family member?

Of all the adventures you provided us with, the one that stands out was “the turnover”. Karl, Wendy, and Wendy’s boyfriend Scott, all set out from home at mileage 99,990. Cameras ready, we drove the 10 miles on rural roads, ready for the great moment. At 99999 Scott and Wendy stepped out of you and stood on their heads in front of you. The photo was taken, with the caption: TURNED OVER. It was a proud moment for everyone of us. Thank you , Mike, for being a grand member of our family for so long. Love, Mom

November 29, 2001

It was a typical day at the school.  Noisy, somewhat chaotic, filled with tears as well as giggles, kids roughhousing, teachers dealing with assorted angers and resentments (He did….she punched…. they hurt my feelings…etc.) as well as wonderful purposeful work, much of it quite independent.  After 18 years here I am still in love with this incredible place.

Let me tell you about my day-its successes, frustrations, joys.

9:25 to 9:45, time in June’s bookcorner, because Ian can’t come upstairs for music due to allergies to Jay’s cats.  A nice calm period doing two American Play Party games, singing  a silly song about a horse and a flea with added percussion, learning a Peace Round for our Dec. 13 presentation.  The game, Weevily Wheat reinforces classsroom work in counting by 5’s.  (I am constantly looking for ways to integrate music and other studies.)

9:45 – 10:15.  June’s tiniest.  We start Christmas and Chanukah and Kwaanza material.  They are easily distracted, constantly talk when I’m explaining something, love playing any instrument, and hate when the class ends. I love them all dearly.

10:15 – 10:50  June’s older ones.  A very able group, full of very high energy, eagerly singing and playing “Oh, Chanukah”,  “It’s Santa Claus” and a Ghanian game for Kwaanza.  I hear, as they descend the stairs, “Orff is the greatest!” or “I wish it went on all day”.    Of course this warms my heart.

11:15 -11:35  A nasty day weather wise, and so our usual Middle Class dance period can’t be outdoors on the blacktop.  Amidst great noise and frustration, finally ending in joyous satisfaction, they’ve learned “grand right and left” done in square dancing.

11:40 – 12:15  Younger Middle Classers        Singing and playing on recorders a Spanish song, “Riqui Rin, Riqui Ran”.  This group is totally delighted with their recorders and the progress they’re making.  I adore their committment and zest.  We continue with “It’s Santa Claus”.  By the end of class it’s almost in presentable shape.  Parents will LOVE this one.

LUNCH TIME              Tooting is going on all over the building.  I hear them playing songs I haven’t even taught them.  They teach each other new notes, corner me to play for me, and so between my yogurt and fruit bites, I listen happily to Silent Night, My Dreidl, Good King Wenceslas, and Oh Chanukah.

1:20 – 2:10  Older Middle Classers     What a hit the Spanish song is!  We work on singing it, playing it on soprano and alto recorders, adding xylophone and drum accompaniments, and putting it all together.  Nine kids let out a shriek of delight when it’s done.  I suggest calling Kathey up to hear it.  “Yes, let’s.”  While waiting for her, they sneak in more practicing.  Then up comes Kathey.  We sing it, play it on recorders, then add percussion.  Kathey is mightily impressed and the kids are in heaven.

2:15 – 2:55.  “The Jay Group”  These eight have volunteered to be in an Orff class.  They are the most challenging group I have.  They are noisy, frequently interrupt, often act totally bored, and at other times, wildly enthusiastic.  Today I first taught them the Peace Round we’ll do on Dec. 13.  Then a drumming session, with improvization.  I kind of sneak in concepts of meter: 4/4  3/4  6/8 and introduce them to a typical  Balkan rhythm of 7/8.  They don’t know what the word “soft” means!  But they seem to enjoy the drumming.  Then we review a Czech folk dance called “Doudlebska Polka”  They add their contemporary movements, utterly out of keeping, but I give them room and even enjoy it.  Lastly they split into two groups to present to me and to each other the improvizations on assorted instruments they’ve been working on.

I find them good enough to present on the 13th.  Out they tumble at 3 PM, sounding like a group of 25 not 8.   I’m left to clean up the room, my adrenalin getting me through the exhaustion, and home I go, to rave once again to my supportive husband of how much I love teaching at the New School and how I hope it can continue for a long time.

WHY DO I LOVE THEE?
LET ME COUNT THE WAYS.

1. Your deep sense of ethics.

2. Your fount of knowledge, insights, awarenesses.

3. Your musical nature and musical knowledge.

4. Your dance expertise and style.

5. Your multi-faceted ways of being a responsible parent, spouse, citizen.

6. Your concern about your body and your dedication to making it the best possible for your age.

7. Your smile.

8. Your sexiness.

9. Your lack of pretenses.

10. Your poems and writings.

11. Your strong committment to ecology.

12. Your emotional flexibility when I make far out suggestions.

13. Your finely tuned critical judgement.

14. Your strength when I feel weak and need a shoulder to cry on.

15. Your deep regard for the continuity of Goldschmidt generations, past and future.

Continue reading Valentine Sonnet to Karl →

A Mini-Autobiography of my O-S Life

by Lori Goldschmidt, Charter Member

Conference ’95 – my 20th or so. These yearly events, so packed with the most incredible array of wonders, have been a high point of my life for thirty years. When somone asked at a recent conference, “Who was at the very first conference in Muncie, Indiana in 1969?” I felt such a surge of pride and nostalgia. I was one of only a handful who’d been there too.

How did I get here from there? What interesting strands of life coincidences led me to Muncie, and eventually to Philadelphia? How did I come to make O-S such a central part of my whole being?

It all began in 1961, at a music camp in Canada called CAMMAC. At this time I was a mother of two young children, waiting until they were older to get back to my career as a high school math teacher. While waiting I dabbled in recorder teaching, folk dance teaching, and modern dance. The week we spent at CAMMAC that summer changed my entire life focus. A woman named Edna Knock was in charge of the children’s music program. At the end of the week in trooped our little ones with Miss Knock and twenty or so other children. Their Orff-Schulwerk program totally bowled me over. Only one week’s accomplishment-WOW! I vowed to learn more about this Orff thing.

The following summer we returned to CAMMAC. This time Miriam Samuelson (now at the Orff Institute in Salzburg) was in charge of the children. And, more importantly, the camp organizers had added a course for adults in the basics of O-S. My entire vision changed, as I took a definitive path away from Math and moved whole-heartedly into music. Workshops followd in N.Y.C. and Long Island (long before certification courses). Before long I’d changed the nature of my home recorder classes for children. I’d purchased a fine set of Studio 49 instruments from my earnings, and ran groups in my recreation room all through the 60’s.

Brigitte Warner’s classes at Westminster Choir College, and Jos Wuytack’s courses on Long Island added greatly to my store of knowledge and ability. But at this point I still lacked some music basics which O-S teachers usually get in an undergraduate music degree program. I had only a B.A. and M.A, in Math to my credit! During the 70’s I not only acquired my third level Orff certification at Memphis, but I filled in the gaps by taking college music courses leading eventually to a N.J. teaching certificate.

O-S took on still more meaning for me when I enrolled at Rutgers University in 1976 in a program called “Creative Arts in Education”. This led to a degree, Specialist in Education, in 1981. It required qualifying exams, and I proudly passed, with Tossi Aaron on my committee.

Now 17 years later, O-S permeates my life. I continue to teach school, although part time, and also have private recorder students whom I teach with a very different slant than I did in the 60’s, (Thank you, Carol King!) I continue to teach folk dancing and now Morris dancing, (Thank you, Paul Kerlee). My recorder performing group, The Navesink Ensemble, includes audience participation with an “Orffy” feel in our concerts. The parties I give at my home, for folks unrelated to my music world, always include a jam session on my instrumentarium. And as an avid world traveler, I bring the gospel of O-S wherever I go.

Muncie, Memphis, Minneapolis,(twice), Chicago,(twice), Boston, (twice),Washington, D.C., Pittsburgh,(twice), Cleveland, Atlanta, Denver, Indianapolis, Dallas, and now Philadelphia, each of you is in my bones and heart. Hopefully I will be at future conferences, to recharge, renew, rededicate myself to one of the noblest causes there is. Thank you, Carl Orff.

Repectfully submitted,

Lori Goldschmidt, Ed.S.
Creative Arts Specialist
and AOSA charter member

Writing session of August 11, 1998

The topic of the day is “How I choose to be remembered.”

“Wit and wisdom of an almost crone, to be read in 2020.

Dear Martina, Isabelle, Julien and Hanah,

By the time you read this I will probably have left this glorious earth. Perhaps some of you are already parents, passing on your skills, knowledge, zest, awarenesses to the next generation. Someday a curious nine year old will ask, “Mom, what was your grandma like?”

Right now you kids only know certain facets of me-the kinds that show on our three times a year visits: my joyousness, bounce, empathy, involvement in all kinds of dance. But there’s another world under that one, a world only certain people know. It’s not that I’m so secretive; its just that situations that foster sharing that world don’t come up very often. These writings may reveal a bit of this world, but not the full geography.

One facet: I’ve always had great trouble being a “be-er” rather than a do-er. Be on the go, accomplish, be productive, travel, teach, bike, hike, milk life for all it’s worth. Slowing down in my 70’s has been a stormy unreality.

Another facet: my constant drive to simplify, get organized, stick to goals.

Third: my existential lonliness, despite kin, friends, community. An ever present longing for more closeness and depth-these constantly elude me.

Fourth: the respect I get from others for my ability to be a catalyst. Don’t know that? Call Lori Goldschmidt. Can’t find that? Ask Lori G.

Fifth: my deep grief over the declining environment and disappearance of species. I often walk around with a heavy heart after hearing about some new earthly catastrophe. I think I spent a year grieving over the oil spill in Prince William Sound. At the same time I had a lot of guilt for not donating more time and money to environmental causes.

Sixth, and last: my naivete about many matters, mainly political. I so often found myself overhearing conversations and not having the slightest idea what the people were talking about. Yet feeling I “should” know.

Enjoy my musings. Pass them on to your kids. Be well, stay in touch. Do good works.
Love, Grandma

Job Hunting, the subject, for Seabrook writing group for December, 2010

In around 1948 I was apartment hunting for the first time in my life.  It had been emotionally difficult to convince my parents that I was not being a “bad girl” to want to live on my own.   I was a new technical assistant at Bell Telephone Laboratories at 463 West Street, NYC, right on the Hudson River.  The Labs were about an hour and a quarter from where I lived with my parents in the Flatbush section of  Brooklyn. People suggested that I could more easily afford an apartment if I shared it with a friend.   I took a chance and booked the flat, then searched for a room mate.  Without too many inquiries about her past, or her likes and dislikes, I agreed to let Mildred share my apt.    We both had found jobs at the Labs rather easily; that seemed to be typical for that era.

It turned out that Mildred was a “foodaholic”.  She was already quite obese when we met, and over the months gained enormously.   Fortunately we kept our possessions, including food, separate.  It sure was an eye opener to watch, with a combination of horror and fascination, the quantities she consumed.   An hour after dinner she’d open a quart package of ice cream and down the entirety.  This was before the era of great concern over cholesterol and other nutritional interests.   Mildred never talked about dieting, never apologized for her eating habits, in short, she was totally self accepting.   I guess her obesity did not get in the way of her work life.

I kept that job for about two years, during which time I sort of “grew up”.  I was the only girl in an office department of about 60 men.  My  mentors in that era were the wonderful men I worked with and mostly my superb boss.    Mr. John Shiel had wide interests and loved to share his wisdom and life outlook with me.   He’d stop by my desk in the morning, say, “and how are you today, Miss Finclaire?”.  Before long we’d launch into some subject in depth.   Time seemed irrelevant to Mr. Shiel.   My job was called “technical assistant” but the usual contents of our chats were in the area of psychology, sociology, history, anthropology.  It almost dwarfed my 4 year college degree in mathematics. We often talked for nearly an hour.

I don’t at all recall how, when or why Mildred moved out.  I do remember that her successor, Trudy, was about 5 ft. tall and probably weighed  90 pounds.

Regardless of room mate, it was a time  in my life of great growth.  I stayed at the Labs about two years.  Near the end of that period I was introduced to a charming fellow employee named Karl Goldschmidt, and the rest is history!