Monday, November 16, 2009

This is where your Great-Uncle Eric is from....


When I first read this I sat and stared at my computer screen and said a long, drawn-out, "Wow!" This is my baby brother. This is the history we shared. This knocked my socks off:
Where I'm From

I am from unorganized sports games that lasted all day, from Coke in glass bottles and Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots.

I am from a big white house on the corner with a haunted attic, from a towering walnut tree and an oft-neglected yard.

I am from Nightshade and cherry trees.

I am from Easter Bunny visits until I was eighteen and tall, loud people, from “Victor!” and Harold and “Cousin Ginger”.

I am from mild insanity and stubbornness.

I am from a parsnip truck and a “Good Time Charlie”.

I am from a complete lack of religiousness. It was not discussed, encouraged, or discouraged. It was a non-issue. My first memory of anything to do with religion was when I watched “Ben Hur” on TV with my mom when I was in my early teens.

I am from a tiny, drab, wet town on the Harbor. One of the landing spots of my somewhat nomadic parents before they finally settled in Vancouver. I am from “Chef Boyardee” spaghetti with hot dogs cut up in it (Yuck!) and Cheerios. I am the baby, the accident, who was so much younger than the rest of the kids that I have very vague memories of them.

I am from an alcoholic uncle who drank himself to death, and from his namesake who followed in his footsteps and died from choking on his own vomit in a jail cell.

I am from two or three boxes of black and white pictures, from a small pouch of antique coins, from my father’s medals from “the War”, from old postcards of England and New England. Mementos of an extended family that I never knew.

I am from old Fords and Ramblers that stunk heavily of stale cigarette smoke.

I am from a tense atmosphere where even though you knew you were loved it was never really shown.

I am from freedom. Freedom to roam from sun-up until sun-down, and often longer than that. Freedom that comes from often too-trusting parents who understood that life’s experiences were best encountered without constant adult supervision.

I am from “Stay tuned to ABC for Batman: In living color!”

I am from a refrigerator packed so full of food it could feed half of starving Africa, from a mother who was convinced that everything in that refrigerator had spoiled. “Victor, smell this!”

I am from psychedelia, from drugs, from bell bottoms and platform shoes. I am from perms for both men and women.

I am from the game of the week (usually the Yankees).

I am from The Jackson Five, The Osmonds, Jody Foster. It feels like we all grew up together.

I am from Goofy learning to drive, from Bugs Bunny and all sorts of politically incorrect cartoons.

5 comments:

Donna. W said...

Wonderful! And this brought back many memories for me.

Vodka Logic said...

I love that post. So much I could relate to..

Came over from Blogstalker.

Tracie said...

That was wonderful! My kiddo did one of these at school and he has been wanting me to do one as well.

I came over on Blogstalker's recommendation.

Rhonda said...

I should do this on my blog too!
Here from the link off Blogstalkers blog!

caron said...

Great Post!!! (I know everyone has already said that...but another 'great post' comment never hurt any blogger, right?!) Here from blogstalker...