My sister Liza gave Meander and me a "blog assignment" in which I am supposed to write about a favorite childhood memory. Híjole! In the first place, I am so bad at picking favorites. I feel that by choosing one as a favorite, I am somehow betraying all the wonderment inclusive in those now designated "not-favorite" by default. (Paulette actually described this better about a month ago. ) Also, nostalgia makes me feel ever-so-slightly creepy and passé. Because as St. Paul the Misogynist said, When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
But I am a woman, not a man; and since one of my two favorite sisters asked me and because I already blogged a childhood memory this monthe re: glockenspiels ... I will tell you about another pleasant childhood memory.
I was about 5 years old. It was December, and my best friend Jeff and I had been cooped up indoors because of the weather. On this particular night, however, something to fulfill our wildest space nerd desires was going to occur. The Star Wars Holiday Special was being broadcast on TV. We ate dinner at Jeff's and were going to my house to watch the show. It was raining and dark, and we were both giddy with anticipation and the very special privelege of being able to walk in the dark without supervision -- even though it was only around the corner. We huddled together under an umbrella and spontaneously began singing together at the top of our lungs:
When you're feeling like a part of you is dying