The Summer of 1981
I remember the summer between 5th & 6th grade. Grant Tsuji and I spent our days, from 10 to 3, at a daycare/camp thing called -- you'll never believe this -- "Ten to Three". It was held at the Elementary School we attended. Every week we took a bus to at least two different amusement-type places, which, knowing the cost of those things now, makes me think surely the program was subsidised on account of our Po' Kids School status.
-My treasured Mizuno baseball glove was stolen by the meanest, baddest bully in 10-3. His name was Mamdough (pronounced Mam-doo). It stayed stolen.
-I was bullied by a skinny guy from my baseball team named Bobby, until Grant (literally half my size) used some Karate throat-clench move from his extensive training on him. He tought it to me and I later used it during middle school, self-defense, against a Vietnamese kid on a basketball court
-Every bus ride we listened to someone's tape player, playing Double Dutch Bus. Over, and over again. Everyone on the bus knew every word, sometimes we'd sing along like zealous concertgoers.
-Grant and I used the keys to the apartment buildings we had (for our paper routes) to sneak in and play pool on their community pool tables.
-We were kicked out by a manager one time after he caught Grant standing on the table, air-guitar'ing his pool cue and singing "Betty Davis Eyes"
-Strangely, I don't remember any females from that summer. Perhaps hormones didn't rule my entire childhood as has been previously argued. Though my first school dance was that Spring, and Tammy Box & I danced to what seemed like an endless succession of Hall & Oates songs. I'm sure there were other songs, but every sound I remember from that dance came from good ole Darryl & John. Where are they now?
-I rode my bike (red Sekai 2000 10-speed) around the dark streets, wee hours of the morning, on my paper route, singing "Jessies Girl" and Smoky Robinson's "Being with You".
Today I'm reminiscing because of Max, who is the same age. Mostly, his maturity-spurts completely wig me out. But lately he's developed an interest in music, we spent a lot of time last Sunday putting music from my CD collection on his iPod. He'd go through my collection, pick out things that interested him, and I'd put a few representative (& appropriate) songs on his iPod. He personally requested more Stevie Wonder & Earth Wind & Fire. I glowed :). So this week he's been listening, and we listen together while we drive in White Bread Fred. As AK prepared our lunch salads today, Max and I serenaded her with a verse & chorus from EW&F's "September".
Then I glowed again. I often share my enthusiasms with him, but this may be the first time he's instigated it himself. He's reeeeally growing inside & out this summer. And as frustrating as my midlife career situation is, as much as I think I'm supposed to be beginning my "2nd half" or in the middle of a Vision Quest to rediscover the me that will lead me through the next phase of my life (since the old me is SO the old me. Remember Steve Martin in My Blue Heaven with a pompadour & awful NY accent? "This is not the old me, this is new me!") . . . . anyway (sometimes you just have to give up on a sentence that's grown too big for it's place in your story. It's like this sentence just grew up & moved out of the house, eager to strike out on it's own in the world outside my blog. I think I need to get over the loss & move on with life. . . ).
Ahem.
As much as I DON'T know where I'm supposed to be right now, I am infinitely grateful that I am here right now. I mean, I'm totally here. Even if I'm up to my ears in paint & work, I'm right here where we can listen to music, run errands together, and I am available to him. Does he need me right now? No. But I think he needs to know I'm available, that he need not fear, that he's not alone.
He's coming up on the awful trauma that is Middle School. And his neeto-bandito charter school is likely to provide a buffer to some extent. That in addition to his own leisurely maturity progress might make High School his Middle School. I don't know how available I'll actually be at that time, so I'm glad I'm setting a precedent right now. If he's in the habit of having me here, he'll more easily trust me to be here when he does need me. I hope.
Say do you remember? Dancing in September? Never was a cloudy day. . . . .
-My treasured Mizuno baseball glove was stolen by the meanest, baddest bully in 10-3. His name was Mamdough (pronounced Mam-doo). It stayed stolen.
-I was bullied by a skinny guy from my baseball team named Bobby, until Grant (literally half my size) used some Karate throat-clench move from his extensive training on him. He tought it to me and I later used it during middle school, self-defense, against a Vietnamese kid on a basketball court
-Every bus ride we listened to someone's tape player, playing Double Dutch Bus. Over, and over again. Everyone on the bus knew every word, sometimes we'd sing along like zealous concertgoers.
-Grant and I used the keys to the apartment buildings we had (for our paper routes) to sneak in and play pool on their community pool tables.
-We were kicked out by a manager one time after he caught Grant standing on the table, air-guitar'ing his pool cue and singing "Betty Davis Eyes"
-Strangely, I don't remember any females from that summer. Perhaps hormones didn't rule my entire childhood as has been previously argued. Though my first school dance was that Spring, and Tammy Box & I danced to what seemed like an endless succession of Hall & Oates songs. I'm sure there were other songs, but every sound I remember from that dance came from good ole Darryl & John. Where are they now?
-I rode my bike (red Sekai 2000 10-speed) around the dark streets, wee hours of the morning, on my paper route, singing "Jessies Girl" and Smoky Robinson's "Being with You".
Today I'm reminiscing because of Max, who is the same age. Mostly, his maturity-spurts completely wig me out. But lately he's developed an interest in music, we spent a lot of time last Sunday putting music from my CD collection on his iPod. He'd go through my collection, pick out things that interested him, and I'd put a few representative (& appropriate) songs on his iPod. He personally requested more Stevie Wonder & Earth Wind & Fire. I glowed :). So this week he's been listening, and we listen together while we drive in White Bread Fred. As AK prepared our lunch salads today, Max and I serenaded her with a verse & chorus from EW&F's "September".
Then I glowed again. I often share my enthusiasms with him, but this may be the first time he's instigated it himself. He's reeeeally growing inside & out this summer. And as frustrating as my midlife career situation is, as much as I think I'm supposed to be beginning my "2nd half" or in the middle of a Vision Quest to rediscover the me that will lead me through the next phase of my life (since the old me is SO the old me. Remember Steve Martin in My Blue Heaven with a pompadour & awful NY accent? "This is not the old me, this is new me!") . . . . anyway (sometimes you just have to give up on a sentence that's grown too big for it's place in your story. It's like this sentence just grew up & moved out of the house, eager to strike out on it's own in the world outside my blog. I think I need to get over the loss & move on with life. . . ).
Ahem.
As much as I DON'T know where I'm supposed to be right now, I am infinitely grateful that I am here right now. I mean, I'm totally here. Even if I'm up to my ears in paint & work, I'm right here where we can listen to music, run errands together, and I am available to him. Does he need me right now? No. But I think he needs to know I'm available, that he need not fear, that he's not alone.
He's coming up on the awful trauma that is Middle School. And his neeto-bandito charter school is likely to provide a buffer to some extent. That in addition to his own leisurely maturity progress might make High School his Middle School. I don't know how available I'll actually be at that time, so I'm glad I'm setting a precedent right now. If he's in the habit of having me here, he'll more easily trust me to be here when he does need me. I hope.
Say do you remember? Dancing in September? Never was a cloudy day. . . . .
posted by Chris at
12:02 PM
5 Comments:
I love that you guys go through this stuff before me. :-) It give me a peek, a little hope, a reminder that they're always growing and reaching new points. And we get to be there - we just have to decide that we'll *really* be there - for all of it. It makes me smile. It also sometimes makes my gut ball up and I want to cry, but that's mostly just because I'm a girl and I do that. Most of the time, though, it makes me smile.
Dy
Dear Son:
Are there any more of your childhood stunts (as in using your paper route keys to get into other apartment complexes!) that I don't know about yet?
Mom
Dear Mom:
Yes, there are. :)
-Son
1981? ::sigh:: I'm feeling REALLY old now. I graduated from high school in 1981.
*grin*
The guys on the building site over the road had 'Jessie's Girl' playing today when I was outside with the boy... I had a real flashback:-) '1981 Rocks On' was my first ever self purchased music:-) They were also playing a whole pile of other stuff from the same era... Puggle stared at me while I sang along:-)
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