I Remember...

...A brown wool vest my Dad won for being a yo-yo champion in the 1950's. He kept it in a cabinet in the bathroom downstairs, next to a stack of Playboys. I played with my yo-yo down there for hours.

I know what you're thinking. And you're wrong. Honestly, the only thing I did down there was play with my yo-yo.

Okay, I'm going to think of a better way to phrase that. Meanwhile, get your mind out of the gutter.

* * * * * *

On Halloween, sitting on the back hatch of the blue station wagon while Dad drove slowly through the neighborhoods yelling "feed the poor!" You couldn't see the "Gerald Ford for President" bumper sticker when the hatch was down.

I remember bags of candy that would last through Christmas, but I can't remember a single costume.

It wasn't about the look, it was about the take.

* * * * * *

Riding my bike to Little Leo's to buy comic books. I bought Mad Magazine because I knew it was cool, but I didn't like it. I liked Richie Rich, which was totally embarrassing.

It still is.

His shorts are making me uncomfortable. And he's wiggling his paddle.

Christ, I grew up reading gay fetish porn.

* * * * * *

Getting led by the hand out of Mrs. Nichols' first-grade class by my mother. Mrs. Nichols didn't know what to do with me because I wrote perfectly, backwards. In other words, lleh sa cixelsyd gnikcuf saw I. She put me in Mrs. Kheil's class, who turned things around for me.

* * * * * *

Dad yelling at our dog Pat during dinner, "get in yer hole!" Pat would obediently curl up in his "hole," a space no bigger than a woodbox, below the liquor cabinet. It always looked inviting.

The woodbox, not the booze.

* * * * * *

Watching the Sound of Music in my parent's bedroom while they fought in the living room. I sat on the huge chest at the end of their bed. It had wide strips of rotting leather and ornate black metalwork. I imagined it belonged to a magician.

I used to put on magic shows. They sucked, and I knew it.

* * * * * *

Filling up spiral notebooks with numbers. I'd start on the top line of the first page and write, "1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10....", and see how high I could get by the last line of the last page. Then I'd turn it over and start on the backs of the pages, "13,232, 13,233, 13,234..."

This is my 33rd blog posting. I don't know how many lines the internet has.

It will probably be a while before I have to turn it over.