I love this photo. I was 9 or 10 and I think that smile is the real deal. As this is my birthday, I thought I’d look at this photo and list a few things I experienced at that tender age…
1. I found an old 2X4 at an abandoned construction site down the road, and dragged it home. I put it on the ground beside the carport and practiced on my newfound “balance beam.” Nadia Comaneci was huge to girls my age and I so wanted to be like her. I was never to take a gymnastics or dance class in my youth, though I desperately wanted to. That old piece of wood helped me pretend.
2. From the same aforementioned abandoned construction site, I also dragged home a few sheets of plywood. My sisters and I wanted a tree house in our backyard. Knowing we wouldn’t get any help at all from a parent, we hoisted two plywood sheets up and nailed one down as our seating area, and then nailed the other overhead for shelter. It was crude and, no doubt, dangerous. And I absolutely loved it.
3. There were a couple of boys down the street, and they were, well, just boys. The oldest was a year younger than me and a year older than my sister. His little brother was two years his junior. Anyway, one day they were picking on my sister and they went too far: they pushed her down. Right in front of me. And they shouldn’t oughta done that, friends. You see, I was big-time into “Kung Fu.” Though the show’s run had already ended, I was well-versed in re-runs and that show was one of my favorites. So, without giving it a lot of thought, I braced myself and hi-ya! kicked that boy in the stomach. Once he was able to catch his breath, he and his brother ran home and told their dad what had happened. My sister and I didn’t tell anyone, lest we’d have to go cut our own switches. We just hoped it was all over. It wasn’t. Those boys’ dad came down the street and had a talk with our father. We heard the man saying he expected us to be severely punished for what we had done. Now, our father wasn’t gonna win any parenting prizes, but I did appreciate what he told the boys’ dad. He told him he should be more concerned about the fact that his sons were picking fights with little girls. And then, just to stir the pot, he threw in, “And you should be worried about the fact that your boys got beat up by little girls.” Those boys didn’t mess with us ever again.
4. Probably while wearing the very same green bikini shown above, I hurt myself in an ugly way. We had a metal-sided, above-ground pool in our backyard. It was only a couple of feet high, and I was running and jumping over the side, splashing into the water. Actually, let me accurately describe the pool’s siding: the top of the wall was raw, rusty metal. It was old and rough. But it was a pool. And we were poor. Anyway, I made a run at the pool, and jumped over the side. It was all so smooth, except for where my leg caught on the bare metal. A huge chunk of flesh was scooped out of the front of my ankle. There was a lot of blood. And a lot of laughter. That was my whack-job family for you. My ankle was wrapped up (there was no chance of stitches), and that was that. The pool lost a lot of its luster for me after that. And I carry a big, old scar on my ankle to this day.
5. Speaking of scars, it was also about that time that I decided I wanted to learn to skateboard. I had a bright yellow board and I guess I was fearless, because I got on that thing and headed straight down a hill. And I stayed up. And I was moving, yeah boy! The street just kept going and I kept getting faster and faster. I could see a bend in the road ahead and had absolutely no idea how to turn. I did the only thing I could – I hit the curb and flew off into the woods. We had no idea what helmets or pads were, so I got pretty beaten up with that fall. My left knee bears the scar I earned that day.
I have many, many memories of my life at the time of that green bikini. School memories, home memories, family memories. I guess this photo just reminds me of things that happened outside the house, in that scraggly yard. I’d like to tell you there were more beautiful moments, but I don’t have a lot of those. That’s just the way it went down.
I suppose the greatest thing I get from seeing this photo now is the love I feel for that kid. I wish I could tell her she’ll make it. I wish I could tell her to trust her instincts and herself. I wish I could go back in time and give her all the love she needed and deserved. I guess I’ll just have to do my best to love her now. And to wish her the happiest of birthdays. She was a good kid. She still is.