All right, friends - it's time to see how well the memory works. I recently got an email from a teacher pal with a long lists of things we should remember from the fifties and the sixties. Sadly, I did recall almost every single one of them, but I thought it might do me some good, in the cathartic sense of the word, to recall some more specific moments or items of my own.
First Kiss: Of course, everyone wants to remember this one, but frankly it was less than memorable. His initials were R.M. and I was about 13. I remember thinking - "all that fuss over this?"
First Date: My mom actually set me up on a "movie date" with a fellow first-grader, thinking it was incredibly cute. His mom went along with the plan, and the two of us were somewhere between confused and embarrassed. The two moms sat a few rows behind us in the theater. I haven't a clue what the movie was.
First Home: For some their first home was the one they eventually grew up in. My first house was actually a remodeled chicken coop outside Pittsburgh, PA. My parents bought half of a defunct chicken farm, and we got the half with the house on it. The only thing I remember about the house (we moved when I was 4) was the coating of ice we would get on the living room windows - on the interior. There were blankets hung over the windows to try to keep heat inside, but you could scrape a good 1/4" or so off the inside in mid-winter.
There was an episode of "Extreme Makeover - Home Edition once that rescued a family from living in a chicken coop. I vividly remember Ty Pennington yelling that no family, ever, should have to live in a chicken coop. I felt somehow cheated.
First Car: The first auto I ever drove was a green and white, 1956 Pontiac station wagon, with no power steering or brakes, or windows or anything else for that matter. It was a tank and I loved it. It was also my high school colors, so I was obligated to drive the cheerleaders to every football game. By the way, it was stolen three weeks after my parents bought it, and found in a town in the Adirondack region of upstate New York. We had just returned from a vacation in the mountains, and my Dad and I guess a friend had to drive all the way back up there to retrieve it. I'm sure it was worth it. The first car I ever owned was a 1965 Chevy Impala convertible, champagne in color, and I wish I still had it.
First drink: Well it probably wasn't the first, but it was certainly the first time I ever got really hammered. I was fifteen, and went with a bunch of friends up to the top of a hill outside our suburban New York town. At night when it was clear you could see the lights of the big city, and I guess we considered this a perfect view to get drunk by. I got totally fried, and then totally sick, on a blend of numerous remains from numerous household liquor cabinets. The next day I went to a wedding, and had to chuckle a bit at my parents' pride in the fact that I didn't watch to touch the champagne. (One of my current readers was with me that night - do you know who you are?)
First House: Yes, I have purposely skipped over a couple of "firsts", mostly because they aren't anybody's business. My first house as a married adult is the one I'm still living in, still with the same husband. It's 110 years old, and we are the first folks on the deed. Bought it from the descendants of the builder in 1975 - it had been a rental property until then. It was definitely a handyman's special. In the first two years we redid a lot of the plumbing, put in a new furnace, rebuilt the roof, did some major rewiring, painted everything, cleared and dug out the yard, fixed the front porch floor and railings, went through three or four gallons of spackle, built a new kitchen, and put storm windows all over the place. Most of that needs to be done again, after 36 years.
First baby: She showed up a couple of years into rebuilding the house, and put a screeching halt to most of that activity. She is now 34 and nicely settled into her own place with a very likable gent. I knew nothing about child rearing when she arrived, and she taught me plenty. What she left out, her little brother added after he was born, one and one-half years later. They have provided my greatest joys and my biggest worries, and I continue to adore them both.
First Grandchild: Nope! Not there yet. I guess I'll have to keep you waiting and I'll finish this another time!
First Kiss: Of course, everyone wants to remember this one, but frankly it was less than memorable. His initials were R.M. and I was about 13. I remember thinking - "all that fuss over this?"
First Date: My mom actually set me up on a "movie date" with a fellow first-grader, thinking it was incredibly cute. His mom went along with the plan, and the two of us were somewhere between confused and embarrassed. The two moms sat a few rows behind us in the theater. I haven't a clue what the movie was.
First Home: For some their first home was the one they eventually grew up in. My first house was actually a remodeled chicken coop outside Pittsburgh, PA. My parents bought half of a defunct chicken farm, and we got the half with the house on it. The only thing I remember about the house (we moved when I was 4) was the coating of ice we would get on the living room windows - on the interior. There were blankets hung over the windows to try to keep heat inside, but you could scrape a good 1/4" or so off the inside in mid-winter.
There was an episode of "Extreme Makeover - Home Edition once that rescued a family from living in a chicken coop. I vividly remember Ty Pennington yelling that no family, ever, should have to live in a chicken coop. I felt somehow cheated.
First Car: The first auto I ever drove was a green and white, 1956 Pontiac station wagon, with no power steering or brakes, or windows or anything else for that matter. It was a tank and I loved it. It was also my high school colors, so I was obligated to drive the cheerleaders to every football game. By the way, it was stolen three weeks after my parents bought it, and found in a town in the Adirondack region of upstate New York. We had just returned from a vacation in the mountains, and my Dad and I guess a friend had to drive all the way back up there to retrieve it. I'm sure it was worth it. The first car I ever owned was a 1965 Chevy Impala convertible, champagne in color, and I wish I still had it.
First drink: Well it probably wasn't the first, but it was certainly the first time I ever got really hammered. I was fifteen, and went with a bunch of friends up to the top of a hill outside our suburban New York town. At night when it was clear you could see the lights of the big city, and I guess we considered this a perfect view to get drunk by. I got totally fried, and then totally sick, on a blend of numerous remains from numerous household liquor cabinets. The next day I went to a wedding, and had to chuckle a bit at my parents' pride in the fact that I didn't watch to touch the champagne. (One of my current readers was with me that night - do you know who you are?)
First House: Yes, I have purposely skipped over a couple of "firsts", mostly because they aren't anybody's business. My first house as a married adult is the one I'm still living in, still with the same husband. It's 110 years old, and we are the first folks on the deed. Bought it from the descendants of the builder in 1975 - it had been a rental property until then. It was definitely a handyman's special. In the first two years we redid a lot of the plumbing, put in a new furnace, rebuilt the roof, did some major rewiring, painted everything, cleared and dug out the yard, fixed the front porch floor and railings, went through three or four gallons of spackle, built a new kitchen, and put storm windows all over the place. Most of that needs to be done again, after 36 years.
First baby: She showed up a couple of years into rebuilding the house, and put a screeching halt to most of that activity. She is now 34 and nicely settled into her own place with a very likable gent. I knew nothing about child rearing when she arrived, and she taught me plenty. What she left out, her little brother added after he was born, one and one-half years later. They have provided my greatest joys and my biggest worries, and I continue to adore them both.
First Grandchild: Nope! Not there yet. I guess I'll have to keep you waiting and I'll finish this another time!
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