Rita Mattia thanks a few folks ... and bids farewell to her listeners (for now, at least) with a tale about the ancestors who first came to these shores from the Campania region of Italy. The story is from her book, "Trying Stuff," available from her publisher, www.marinermedia.com. If you've enjoyed this podcast, you'll love the book. If you wonder if there will be more from Rita in the future, please send a note to RITA.MATTIA@GMAIL.COM and you'll be among the first to know. There should be another book soon.
Greek tragedy? Or comedy? You decide! Rita Mattia's tale of motherhood, lawlessness, and what may or may not have been a B+ average takes place in the early 1970s in Baltimore, Maryland.
In her far-too-brief heyday during the 1940s, Rita Mattia's mother Teeny was one heck of a seamstress. During those same years in New Jersey, Teeny's daughter Rita emerged as a doll surgeon and troublemaker.
Camping was never one of Rita Mattia's favorite activities. But stories of camping in Maryland in the 1950s and then in the 1970s combine to make an amusing story.
Rita Mattia's great grandfather Petrino B. Mattia was an extraordinary artist. But not all of his paintings were on canvas or paper. This story of her Italian-American family in mid-century New Jersey includes some good eating and good music as well.
A sort of mini-autobiography, taking Rita Mattia and her listeners on brief visits to all the places she has lived ... and why on earth she chose them.
In the mid 1960s, Rita Mattia was a tiny person working in a huge city (Manhattan, NYC) in which she could not quite afford to shop. This did not stop her from trying.
Rita Mattia ponders what we do and do not remember or know about the past ... and which loved ones we might have asked about those things while we still could.
A timely story about the early days of labor unions in the United States — and particularly in Northern New Jersey in the 20thcentury. Rita Mattia’s father was deeply committed ... and far more shrewd than she usually gave him credit for being.
A tale of tails ... and of married life in an elegant antebellum home in Richmond, Virginia. This story appears in Rita Mattia’s book, “Trying Stuff.” Copies are available from her publisher, www.marinermedia.com
Are there things you once enjoyed that are now lost to you? Perhaps forever? Rita Mattia explores how these transitions can serve to enrich, not deplete us.
Rita Mattia shares her home in Virginia — and the treasures within — with her listeners, bringing to life the incredible artistry of her family and her friends.
Losing her advertising copywriter job in Virginia nearly takes Rita Mattia around the world to find fame and fortune. Nearly. But. Not quite.
What podcast created by an Italian-American girl growing up in New Jersey in the 1940s and 1950s would be complete without a few run-ins with the Roman Catholic Church ... and a place called Our Lady Queen of Peace High School? Rita Mattia assures us it cannot.
This very, very short bonus episode came about after an advertising business associate/friend from long, long ago had some very nice things to say about Rita Mattia. It felt really, really good.
A laughable misunderstanding of the reason for an overnight trip to Pennsylvania leaves Rita Mattia both confused and amused... and out of yet another short-lived 1960s relationship. A mild expletive is spoken by a character in the story.
In the 1870s, Rita Mattia’s great grandfather arrived in the United States from Southern Italy and then figured out that New Jersey might be more hospitable than New York city. In the early 21st century, Rita and her son went to explore the country their ancestors had left forever.
Will her dinner guests prove to be her future in-laws? Is that really Stonewall Jackson looking in the window? It's the 1970s, and Rita Mattia and her son are settling into life in Richmond, Virginia. Explosively so.
Though not exactly in season ... Rita Mattia muses on Halloweens past, including a terrified toddler and Rita's gift for creating clever last-minute costume designs. One of those get-ups was spectacularly, regrettably insensitive.
Is a tendency to say – and perhaps write — exactly what pops into her mind a valuable asset? Or is it a liability? In this story from Rita Mattia's life in Richmond in the 1980s, it proves to be both.