I must've done something good... but I don't really remember it. The crazy thing is that I have very, very few childhood memories. The only very clear memories I have start from somewhere around the fourth grade. Prior to that I've got some vague ideas of things which happened, but I'm not sure if I 'remember' them for real, or because someone told me about them.
The thing is, by all accounts I had a happy childhood. My parents remained married, my siblings and I only fought once in a while (mostly my sister and I), and we lived a very comfortable life. There is no real reason why I should have so few childhood memories, except perhaps that I don't remember it because it wasn't really all that memorable to begin with. I was a kid, and I was happy, and that was it.
However, since M.B. asked for a childhood memory - I'll give you one which has gone down in emzee folklore. When I was a kid, my sense of direction was terrible - and my attention to detail was even worse. So while I was smart, I was also easily distractable. Hence, I spent a large part of my childhood not only losing stuff (notably my sister's new ski jacket, various pairs of gloves and so on), but also getting myself lost. There are two specific times when I got lost - both of which I'm pretty sure my Mom has yet to forgive me for. The first was at Disneyland. The second was in Beverley Hills. I'll share the Disneyland story here because it has a moral to the story.
For some reason I decided to go into the Emporium in Disneyland (most enormous Disney store ever, right at the start of Main Street.) I told my parents (who were finding a seat for the Electric Light Parade) where I was going, and they sternly told me not to get lost, and to come right back to them. Determined, I walked into the store - and I looked for landmarks so that I would know exactly where to come back to when I finished browsing. So in the window on my right was a Peter Pan display, and on my left was a Dumbo display (or whatever.) I wandered through the store for a while, muttering to myself, "Peter Pan on the right, Dumbo on the left. Peter Pan on the right, Dumbo on the left..." ad naseum.
Eventually I decided to go back to my Mom and Dad. So I looked for the windows of the entrance I had come in, and sure enough I found Peter Pan and I found Dumbo. You can imagine my pride - for once, I didn't get lost! I walked out of the store, and started to look for my parents. I couldn't find them - no matter how much I called out, searched, etc.
I started to panic a little, but since I KNEW I had the right door, they HAD to be there somewhere, right? No amount of crying, searching, asking for help and pleading helped. My parents had disappeared into the Disney-themed night.
At this point my memory gets hazy. I think someone felt sorry for me and took me over to the Disney Police Station, to the "lost kids" section. I'm pretty sure my parents found me there, and got royally pissed off at me for getting lost yet AGAIN (although, sheesh, you'd think they would be used to it, I got lost a lot...) They soundly told me off - that I definitely remember, my Mom going totally ape at me.
...and I also remember, later that night, walking past the Emporium again. It was then I realised, heart sinking in my chest, that EVERY SINGLE ENTRANCE to the Emporium had Peter Pan on the right, and Dumbo on the left. I had made the mistake of going in one door, and coming out another - but because I was so focussed on my landmarks, it didn't occur to me to look up beyond those landmarks.
Damn you, Peter Pan...and damn you, Dumbo. Moral of the story? That's the last time I ever trust a man in green tights and a elephant who can fly.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Somewhere in My Youth or Childhood
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