Kelly Clarkson rocks!!
Check out her cover of
Walkin After Midnight.
Patsy Cline is still one of my favorite artists and
Video is no longer up.... if anyone knows where this can be located let me know!!!!


Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Was life better back then?

As I stated in my last post, although it was just a skosh more than a month ago, I have been thinking about my life as a child a lot.  I truly do not remember a lot of of it (I think it is a built in defense mechanism that prevents me from remembering some really ugly episodes..... or my memory just sucks like that) but there are things I recall with an astonishing clarity.  Just like watch television with my mom (see my last post).

For example, I remember staying at my Grandma's house in Memphis, both when we would stop by while dad was on leave and some things from when we stayed there while dad was overseas.  In case you don't know, he was a Marine.  Some of the memories are a little foggy while others play like an HD movie in my mind.

As a very small child, in Memphis for whatever reason, I recall a fall day with mom walking me, and carrying my younger brother, back from playing at the park.  It was fall and the leaves had turned several shades or beautiful reds, yellow, and oranges..  I remember a slight breeze blowing, scattering fallen leaves before us like so many small soldiers leading us home.  The air was crisp and so very clear, almost like all the bad things had been cleaned out just for our walk. Then there were the trees, tall hardwoods, stretching over the street, waving to everyone with their outstretched branches. 

There have been times I have questioned the validity of that specific memory but I have come to the conclusion that in my heart I believe that it happened.  As such, it is mine and always will be.  Just another of many amazing recollections that seem to revolve around my mom.  Not that my father wasn't there by choice, but as a Marine you had duty over all else.  There are times I recall.  Some good, and others... well, no so good.

While in Memphis again (I really ought to point out this is where mom was from and where I was born) we had all gone to a fair.  Oh they had everything you could want.  Food, rides, clowns, and animals.  While we did the usual fair related things the one part of that day that I remember so well was the Ferris Wheel.  It was humongous!  Well, to me it was anyway.  I wanted to ride it so much and my father agreed to ride it with me.  We waited our turn while mom looked on.  When the car stopped in front of us the attendant opened the lap bar to let a couple of people off, and then motioned to us to take our places.  Once we had he closed and latched the restraint.  One by one the cars were loaded with giddy people, adult and child alike, ready to experience the thrill of the ride.  I recall us stopping at the very top while they loaded the cars.  I was so amazed at how far I could see, and how seemingly tiny those at the base of the ride appeared to be.  We waved and the tiny people waved back.  Finally, all of the cars were full and the ride started in earnest. 

There was music that played while we went round and round.  The smell of the foods wafted over us in waves of delicious temptation; cotton candy, corn dogs, sausage.  The sounds of happy screams and hearty laughter seemed to envelop us no matter where we were in the progress of the circle.  The feeling was more than simple excitement.  More like exhilaration.  It was pure and true.  That is until the moment my father thought it would be cute to scare me a little.  I was looking over the lap bar, at what I do not recall, when dad rocked the car.  Not s little bit but a  lot.  My stomach lurched as the car rocked forward and then back.  It felt like it would tip over and dump me out from the heights.  Then forward and back again.  This time it felt like it was rocking even further.  I had this vision of it goings all the way around.  Suddenly the smells of the food were like ash in my throat, the happy screams turning into cries of terror.

No, this was no longer any fun for me and my father knew it.  He rocked even harder.  The ride lurched to a stop.  Thank goodness, they were unloading people.  Only one problem.  They started behind us, meaning I would be stuck up there until nearly the whole thing was unloaded.  I looked at my father and he laughed.  I would swear to you it was the most evil, maniacal laugh that one could ever imagine.  In my mind at any rate.  When were able to finally get off the wheel of torture my mother came a took me away from the evil that my father had turned in to.

I could not tell you exactly what she said to him, or how he responded, but I do remember the tone.  I have heard that same tone directed at me a couple of times in my life.  Let me tell you something, I would sooner have had my fingers broken and sharp pointy objects inserted into places they should not go in order to not hear that again.  Simple fact.

To this day I will not ride a Ferris Wheel.  I do love going to fairs and carnivals still.  Though in truth it is more for the food than anything else.  You can get everything scrumptious and wonderful on a stick but only at these events.  Admit it.  Meat on a stick does not appeal to you unless you are walking through a crowded midway on your way to a sideshow or possibly on your way to the 4-H animal barn.

So that is my post for October (But there may be one coming as we get closer to my favorite holiday of the year).  If not, then Happy Halloween to you all!!!

I now return you to your regularly scheduled internet.