As I get older, I find myself thinking about my childhood in a way similar to Mr. Bradbury. There was a great difference, though--he seems to have loving memories of his family members, which I never did. My biological father ignored me, and my mother and grandmother abused me in every possible way--physical and psychological. I still have to deal with it every day. However, how is it that I yearn with such nostalgia for those endless golden summers out on Oakland Street? Sommer never seemed to end until you noticed the glass cases at Murphy's and McCrory's (both stores long gone, replaced with a Dollar Store and a greasy-spoon restaurant, respectively) filled with new pencils with metallic paint on their surfaces. Remember those big extra pencil erasers you could buy to dress up your pencils, a long metal tube to fit over the end of the pencil with a big square eraser at the end, and that great metallic red band around it? God, I wish I could find those again! Not to mention the new book satchel with a pocket on the side to carry the new huge box of Crayola crayons with the pencil sharpener in the front of the box (but I actually preferred those wax crayons in their stripe-y paper--I managed to find them on eBay. That neighborhood out there then was just a few years removed from being farm property, and we kids didn't have to walk far before we could climb through the barbed wire fence and feed carrots and apples to the horses. We rode our bicycles then with no helmets, crashed on the concrete streets more times than we could count, and never were injured. And we didn't really mind when school started, because that meant that Hallowe'en was coming that much sooner! In researching old newspapers, which is part of my job, I learned that, in my area, Hallowe'en would last a whole week! When I was a kid, we could go out the evening before Hallowe'en, as well as The Day itself, and as late as we wanted to stay out (now the kids here are just allowed one hour, between 6 and 7 p.m., Hallowe'en night). On October 31, if it was a school day, we would go home for lunch (that tells you how long ago THAT was! ha), put on our costumes and go back to school. We would move our desks against the wall, circular fashion, and play games and try to guess who was under each costume. I could never fool anybody, because I always wore the same thing--a rubber skull mask with a white sheet fastened under my chin and draped overall. Then we would leave the school and walk around the block in a little Hallowe'en parade. I still carve the same face in my JoL as I did then, and the great thing about the candles then is that they dripped, and the wax would flow out of the JoL's mouth and congeal in interesting patterns on the cold cement porch. Thank God for eBay! I have managed to find many of the Gurley Hallowe'en novelty candles (do you believe I actually used to BURN them? How could I have done that?) and decorations I remember having back then--like the witch on the honeycomb "flying saucer." Thankfully, I still have some of my original decorations, and I display them proudly every year. God, those were wonderful times (in spite of everything). The power of nostalgia grows ever greater with the years--
It never happened, none of it. You're a victim of memory implants, courtesy of ebay. They get to you through your computer, and your oral hygiene products. Works in unison, see. Just quit using toothpaste, toothbrushes, mouthwash, and floss and the memories will go away. Might lose some teeth, too. It's acceptable loss, collateral damage.
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"Years from now we want to go into the pub and tell about the Terrible Conflagration up at the Place, do we not?"
Viktoria, thanks for sharing that! I know what you mean about becoming more and more nostalgic with age. Your commentary sparked a lot of memories, I wish I had all of my toys now. My mom didn't believe in keeping nuthin, not even our house. We never kept our family dog(s) until they died. As soon as some minor infraction occurred, mostly it happened as the poor animal aged, it was shipped off to a better place usually referred to as a "farm" where he or she will be happier. We have a dog now, a treasured member of our family named Nyla (because my small kids couldn't pronounce Nala, from Lion King) and she is eight years old, and we'll never get rid of her. When I was a kid, we had at least nine dogs that I remember, and they're names, but not their fate unfortunately. I'm sorry for what happened to you, sounds bad. Nothing that bad here, just a little shaming. Although when I use my jiffy time machine in my mind, I give it back on a silver platter to them and tell them "I'm a f_ _ _ _ _ _ _ kid Mom, remember!" You probably don't get that unless you've had therapy. I'm not angry at them anymore, I was for a long time. It was a good example for me NOT to raise my own like that. Sorry, I didn't mean to ramble. Its true what you said about memories of bygone years, seems like we do put the good times up on a pedestal, I can remember so much just like it was yesterday!
She stood silently looking out into the great sallow distances of sea bottom, as if recalling something, her yellow eyes soft and moist...
rocketsummer@insightbb.com
Posts: 1397 | Location: Louisville, KY | Registered: 08 February 2006
