Margerumalia – Vaccination The Old Fashioned Way

Newsletter – August 20, 2025

My mom poured the medicine into the spoon and put it in my brother’s mouth, then she crossed the room, poured out another spoonful and put the same spoon in my mouth.

That’s how I got the mumps when I was four years old.

A few days ago my doctor was reviewing my vaccinations and I told her the story of how I got the mumps. Mom gave it to me. And it was intentional. 

It happened in Germany when my Dad had the opportunity to work with a world renowned chemist and scheduled his first sabbatical leave to take advantage of the offer. Mom loved to travel and fully embraced the experience. Bringing along two boys under six? No problem! 

When I say “world renowned chemist” I’m not kidding. Dr. Eigen would be awarded a Nobel Prize in Chemistry a couple of years after we came back to the States. 

The family spent a total of nine months living in Germany—I should say West Germany, before the reunification of the two Germanys.

My brother and I each had a birthday during that time, his sixth, my fourth. We celebrated Christmas in that little German house and Dad laid the track for an electric train to circle the tree. On Christmas morning a toy bunny peeked out of my stocking and I played with him all day.

In the spring it was time to get ready for the return trip and my Dad came down with the mumps. My only memory of that was the doctor coming to give Dad a shot in his bare behind. I felt sorry for him but better him than me! 

A couple weeks closer to our departure date and Dad was feeling better but my older brother came down with a case of the mumps.

The vaccine hadn’t been invented yet and we wouldn’t be welcome to travel while infectious. If it took that long to reach to my brother, would it take that long before I got it? Time to consult the doctor.

My mother had earned a degree with majors in Chemistry and Biology and she knew the doctor was right: she had to infect me sooner than later. Still, she felt guilty about putting that spoon in my mouth. It went against all of her motherly instincts.

It was a classic textbook example of vaccination by exposure. I came down with a very mild case of the mumps from which I recovered quickly and we were all cleared to travel home. 

Mom? Oh, she never got sick. Ever. I couldn’t tell you why, she just had a robust immune system. At her funeral I thanked her for passing that gift along to me and my brothers. 

And Bunny? Yeah, he came home with me, went to college with me, grad school, too. Everywhere, in fact. He sits on my bookshelf now, his pink ears smudged, his whiskers bent, and his red ribbon bow now faded, but seeing him still makes me smile. I’ll put a picture of him below.

TTFN

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My middle grade novel, The Most Amazing Museum of Los Angeles is available through The BookBaby Bookshop at https://store.bookbaby.com/book/the-most-amazing-museum-of-los-angeles

Margerumalia – International Museum Day

Newsletter – May 23, 2025

PHOTO CREDIT: icom.museum

This past Sunday, I heard on the radio that it was International Museum Day. Well, why did you wait and tell me on the day of? C’mon people, give me some room to run with this little gem!

Having set my novel in The Most Amazing Museum of Los Angeles, and building on that theme in the much-anticipated sequel The Most Amazing Museum of Chicago (I, for one, am dying to know how it turns out), I should be informed about this International Day for Museums. Heck, I even blogged a recommendation for Mike Gayle’s book The Museum of Ordinary People (Margerumalia, January 17, 2025). All museums honored here!

Clearly it’s up to me to seek out the information and share what I learned. You’re welcome.

Oh, dear. I went to the icom.museum website and I’m afraid it’s rather stodgy and very academic sounding. Their photographers, on the other hand, really know what they’re doing. There are lots of really interesting photos that make you say, “That’s interesting. I wonder what’s going on here?” Especially in the Sharing Is Caring section.

That’s what we want to know, isn’t it? What are these people doing here and why? …And then what happened? …And then what? Stories are our common bond. 

Somewhere in the Black Forest of Germany, my mother sensed that my brothers and I were bored by the tapestries, the thrones, and suits of armor gathering dust in the umpteenth castle of the day. So she took us outside. 

A small square pond about the size of a Little League infield sat low in a clearing surrounded by  tall shaggy oaks. Mossy bricks edged the still water and no breeze blew through this fine and private place. 

“Hello?” my mother shouted, only to be answered by her own voice. 

“Hello?” it said back. 

We looked at her blankly. 

“That was the Echo,” she told us. “Let’s see if we can find her.” 

And even though we knew it was a game, we dashed up and down the little hillsides, looking behind tree trunks and vine-covered stones to see if we could find the mysterious Echo. I think we even shouted a few times to hear her shout back in our own voices. 

After about twenty minutes of this game, my brothers and I were nearly spent and remarkably capable of touring another bedroom in the nearby castle.

Echo went with us. I know because I heard her mocking the tour guide with his own voice even though he didn’t shout.  

Fifty-plus years later, I still remember that exciting moment when Mom made the echo into a sprite called Echo. 

And this morning, two little boys walking with their mother and calling me “a grandpa” rushed ahead when I told them that the yellow post at the top of the hill was good luck if they touched it. We all earned our good luck this morning.

That’s the kind of museum I want to remember. And a lot of the curators have figured that out. Especially the children’s museums who say, “Go ahead. You can touch it,” because they know we learn through all of our senses, not just our eyes.

TTFN

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My middle grade novel, The Most Amazing Museum of Los Angeles, is available through The BookBaby Bookshop at https://store.bookbaby.com/book/the-most-amazing-museum-of-los-angeles