Tagged for childhood stories

Been tagged to do a meme by Rony to list 5 childhood memories. (thx Rony!). I was a child of the 60s and 70s (yeah yeah, I was 10 years old just a mere thirty-six-fricken'-years ago). Too weird...how can 35 years have gone by?.....jeez, then pretty soon, I'll be saying "um, fifty years ago. Oh, ok, I digress. But one more thing -- Isn't weird how when you really think about who you are---your own mental/psychic image--don't you just think you're really still, um, say 32? That's how old I think I feel. 32. Not 46. Oh well, doesn't really matter, does it....

(1) When I was 12 (1972), we lived in Coral Gables (Miami). The 1972 Democratic National Convention was at Miami Beach and the parks (just a few blocks from my house) were overtaken by an onslaught of hippies. Oh, man, it was cool. Hippies everywhere. Soup lines filled with hippies. Hippies that were taking over the world. Hippies and their naked babies running around everywhere. It was a mini-Woodstock. Eileen Morris and I used to sneak over to the park (against all rules so it was extra fun) and check things out. We saw hippies in protest, hippies getting stoned, hippies giving cool activist speeches...Eileen's older sister was a hippie (Maureen) and she gave us her tied-dye (I swear it's true) t-shirts. Eileen wore a headband and I had a very wide belt and hip-huggers and we each had macrame vests. Too funny.

(2) When I was 11 -- Eileen (yep, same girl) told me all about sex....how it worked...all that stuff. I remember being horrified. We were standing on the sidewalk outside her house. I just couldn't barely believe it. I thought she was making it up. Heck, back then, that sure didn't *sound* like any fun. See how innocent I was...now children learn about sex when...what... they are 6?

(3) When I was 9, my best friend was a French girl (Catherine Soudoplatoff!) who was really fun but her Mother was a complete snob and thought all Americans were boors and unfit for her daughter. I was terrified of Catherine's mom. That family actually had a full-time housekeeper, gardener, ...and...really...a butler/driver guy. Anyways, we were bouncing (wtf were we thinking...) a golf ball in their very (oh my gosh very) lavish foyer and I overthrew the ball and shattered their wall-to-ceiling antique original condition only-one-in-entire-frickin-world-like-it" Louis XIV mirror. Oh, it was bad. Really bad.

Then, about a week later, Catherine and I were in her mother's powder room looking at her medications (lots o' pills) in her cabinet. We climbed up on top of the pedestal sink (very expensive handmade only-one-in-the-frickin-world porcelain sink) and it broke. It came crashing outta the wall. I could have been killed. It big-time broke. Yep, it was bad. Really bad.

Then, then, about a month later (after my and Catherine's forced separation period was over), I was riding my bike down their driveway to see Catherine. Their driveway had a curvy incline from the street down to their garage door. Mrs Soudoplatoff was standing in the front garden and as I waved to her (trying to be so poised in front of her...really trying hard....), I lost control of my bike and rammed smack-dab into the garage door and busted up my chin, broke my left collar bone, and dripped blood all over Mrs. Soudoplatoff's custom silk (only one like it in the entire frickin' world) scarf that she inherited from some "grand-dame" auntie of hers. Oh it was bad and over..... Really over....never came over to Cat's house again in my entire life.....

Catherine got her mom back by marrying an American and acquiring a really funny Southern/French accent!!

(4) Fondest less dramatic memories? They all have to do with hanging out with my grandparents (Nana and Poppie) who basically raised me in the summers and on holidays and making cookies and going to the mountains and making ice cream and hosting dinner parties (Nana was a classic Viriginian socialite) and playing cards (Canasta) with their friends.....

(5) Last one.....also has to do with horses. Eileen and I both had horses and boarded them at the same place -- Whispering Pines Stables. My horse's name was EggHead. He was a 15.1 hands classic bay American Quarter Horse.....From age 9-14, I lived and breathed horses...(thank goodness I grew out of that.....I don't know if I'll encourage it or not with Sammi and Nicki....it takes so.much.time....) Hey, now that was fun. . Thanks for the tag, Rony! :)