bloody marty mix
94/365: 1975-1976
Thursday, 28 August 2008.
40 Years in 40 Days [ view the entire set ]
An examination and remembrance of a life at 40.
For the 40 days leading up to my 40th birthday, I intend to use my 365 Days project to document and remember my life and lay bare what defines me. 40 years, 40 qualities, 40 days.
Year 8: 1975-1976
In the summer of 1976, we packed our things into an old yellow Ford Econoline van and moved across the country to Michigan. It occurs to me now that that was an odd thing to just do, and that there must have been something that precipitated the move, but I have no idea what it was. My dad had family back in Michigan, so that's where we went... three long-haired Californians and a funny-looking dog in a big yellow van.
When we got there, we stayed with my (step-)grandparents for awhile, and then in October, just after my birthday, we headed north to move into my grandparents' weekend cabin in the heart of the Huron National Forest. We had arrived at the place I would come to consider my true childhood home.
On my first day at my new school, I was thrust in front of a classroom of third graders, and introduced as the "new student." A boy in the front row looked me up and down and announced that I was fat. This was a revelation to me. I'd had no concept of myself as fat before then, and from that moment on, I was never able to see myself as anything but fat. So, thankyouverymuch, David! I never forgot or forgave him for that. Karma has a cold, cold heart, though. By the time we hit high school, David was a touch... round.
My dad, who had recently finished a Master's degree in education, got part-time work as a substitute teacher. The locals were distrustful of long-haired hippie types, but a good teacher is a valuable commodity. And so we settled in.
Who am I?
I am all about autumn.
I don't think it was until we moved to Michigan that I really got autumn. In southern California, we really didn't have seasons. We had trips to the mountains, during which you might see some big trees or, if you were lucky, and went at just the right time, some snow. When we arrived in Michigan, our first few months were spent surrounded by an explosion of color and fragrance, almost overwhelming our dry, California senses. There's just something magical and heady about pulling in a deep breath of clean air infused with pine and moss.
People always talk about spring as a time of renewal, but I think they've got it all backwards. Autumn was my salvation. Each autumn, when the air turned crisp and the leaves blew around my feet, I got another chance to start over. A new year, with new classes, new clothes and shoes, and new things to do, and maybe this year everything would be different. Every year, when the leaves began to turn, and the jackets came out, I would be filled with a sense of hope and possibilities. Even today, I am filled with a sense of nervous excitement at the approach of the college football season, for football brings with it jackets and mittens, hot cocoa and cool air in the lungs... all of the things that make me reborn.
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94/365: 1975-1976
Thursday, 28 August 2008.
40 Years in 40 Days [ view the entire set ]
An examination and remembrance of a life at 40.
For the 40 days leading up to my 40th birthday, I intend to use my 365 Days project to document and remember my life and lay bare what defines me. 40 years, 40 qualities, 40 days.
Year 8: 1975-1976
In the summer of 1976, we packed our things into an old yellow Ford Econoline van and moved across the country to Michigan. It occurs to me now that that was an odd thing to just do, and that there must have been something that precipitated the move, but I have no idea what it was. My dad had family back in Michigan, so that's where we went... three long-haired Californians and a funny-looking dog in a big yellow van.
When we got there, we stayed with my (step-)grandparents for awhile, and then in October, just after my birthday, we headed north to move into my grandparents' weekend cabin in the heart of the Huron National Forest. We had arrived at the place I would come to consider my true childhood home.
On my first day at my new school, I was thrust in front of a classroom of third graders, and introduced as the "new student." A boy in the front row looked me up and down and announced that I was fat. This was a revelation to me. I'd had no concept of myself as fat before then, and from that moment on, I was never able to see myself as anything but fat. So, thankyouverymuch, David! I never forgot or forgave him for that. Karma has a cold, cold heart, though. By the time we hit high school, David was a touch... round.
My dad, who had recently finished a Master's degree in education, got part-time work as a substitute teacher. The locals were distrustful of long-haired hippie types, but a good teacher is a valuable commodity. And so we settled in.
Who am I?
I am all about autumn.
I don't think it was until we moved to Michigan that I really got autumn. In southern California, we really didn't have seasons. We had trips to the mountains, during which you might see some big trees or, if you were lucky, and went at just the right time, some snow. When we arrived in Michigan, our first few months were spent surrounded by an explosion of color and fragrance, almost overwhelming our dry, California senses. There's just something magical and heady about pulling in a deep breath of clean air infused with pine and moss.
People always talk about spring as a time of renewal, but I think they've got it all backwards. Autumn was my salvation. Each autumn, when the air turned crisp and the leaves blew around my feet, I got another chance to start over. A new year, with new classes, new clothes and shoes, and new things to do, and maybe this year everything would be different. Every year, when the leaves began to turn, and the jackets came out, I would be filled with a sense of hope and possibilities. Even today, I am filled with a sense of nervous excitement at the approach of the college football season, for football brings with it jackets and mittens, hot cocoa and cool air in the lungs... all of the things that make me reborn.
[ view previous | view next ]