41 things - part one
Forty-one random things about me. Because this blog isn't self-indulgent enough!
Hopefully I can scrounge up 41 somewhat interesting or strange things about me — one for each year I've been alive. Considering how boring my life is, this may be a challenge!
1) The first crush I had on a girl was Kristin Braley (above). She was my babysitter's daughter, a year older than me, and a lot of fun. She taught me to eat my boogers. We played with sandstone in her backyard, grinding it to dust. I said I would marry her. She was also a tomboy and had freckles, which is probably why I still like girls with freckles to this day. The last photo I have of her she was about 15 years old, but I have no idea what became of her.
2) When I was very young, my imaginary friend was Mickey Mouse. After school, I went down to the office where my parents worked. In the basement behind a partition, they had set up a cot for me. It was the darkest, scariest place conceivable for a child to take a nap after school. I drew Mickey on the wall to feel safe. I made him as big as me.
3) A followup to #2 is the above picture of myself (far left) partaking in a cakewalk (actually just a bunch of cupcakes) at the high school of the town I was born in. I'm wearing a Micky Mouse shirt (sweater?). Not only was Micky my naptime protector, but I apparently also kept him close to my heart. I don't know why I chose this particular character. He seemed valiant in a way. And magical, of course. I'm not a fan of Disney, and I wonder today why I went through this phase. Having learned more about Walt Disney and some of the strange things that go on in the Magic Kingdom, I wonder if the trauma I endured as a child somehow linked with these characters — characters some say were designed to lead children through trauma-based mind control protocols (Monarch programming), similar to The Wizard of Oz characters (going over the rainbow). Or, another possibility is I just liked a funny-sounding mouse and the absence of protective forces in my life led me to choose this pop culture icon as my friend. Also, it appears I am wearing parachute pants, which were my favorite pants. I won't hold my breath to see those come back in style.
4) One thing I remember about the night the above picture was taken: the girl who basically forced my family to move to another state accosted me, asking where my oldest brother was. I said I didn't know (true). Later that night when getting into his car, he found a note from her. I still remember reading the note and how she spelled the word "okay." She was obsessed with my brother. It was a dangerous obsession. That's why we moved to another state. My oldest brother and my father moved earlier in the year (supposedly so he could be on the basketball team, a team that went to state that year) and the rest of us moved over Christmas break.
5) When I was a child, I heard the Native American legend about spirit animals. When a young man is of a certain age, he goes out to the wilderness by himself and the Great Spirit or something connects him with his spirit animal which is supposed to guide him through life. He can't come back until he finds his spirit animal. I had that story in the back of my mind in the weeks leading up to moving from my childhood hometown to another state. There was a dog, Charlie, in my neighborhood, and I would race through the forest with him. One particular day we came upon a deer — an impressive buck — standing majestically before us. He was there and was gone in a flash. I was so impressed with the animal I thought maybe it was my spirit animal.
6) Here's a special moment in my life: We still lived in the town where I was born. We had visited relatives in Brookings, S.D., where both my parents had gone to college, where they met, actually, on a blind date. These older relatives gave me a gift of which I don't think they could have understood the magnitude. It was a stack of National Geographic magazines. This was probably the early-to-mid-1980s. I recall being in the far back of the station wagon or Suburban (I forget which) with blankets and magazines. (I now wonder about the safety of that arrangement, as I was not buckled in.) It's safe to say I devoured those magazines. They expanded my world. I could visit far-away places simply by turning pages. To date, this is the best gift I have ever received.
8) I was a month overdue. If I had been born when I was supposed to be born, I would have been in a different grade. Instead of being one of the oldest kids in my class, I would have been one of the youngest. I guess doctors didn't take as many precautions in 1977 as they do today. It's hard to imagine that scenario playing out today. My aunt (earlier, and at a different hospital) lost her firstborn because the doctor left her in too long. The doctor later admitted as much, saying he wouldn't let that happen again. When I drive past the hospital where I was born (which is now shuttered), I think about those things and shake my head.
9) The hospital where I was born was also where I witnessed my first dead body. A man who worked with my parents was at the top of the football stands during a football game, filming the game. He had a massive heart attack and most likely died before he hit the ground. I remember going with my father to pick up his widow that night and taking her to the hospital, which is where I saw the body on the cold, stainless-steel table. It was quite a thing to see for someone my age. The Mueller Civic Center in that town is named after the man, as he was a prominent figure in the community.
10) A teacher and coach (Mr. Hookie) my brothers had in the town I grew up in later moved to the same town where we lived in Nebraska. I remember in a health class he taught hearing him talk about the night Mr. Mueller died, how he had tried to revive him with CPR, how he had thrown up in his mouth and kept trying to resuscitate, how he most likely died instantly. It was surreal. I bet no one remembers who won the game that night. I sure don't.
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