As time passes, memories from my childhood get increasingly fuzzy and hard to remember. It sorta sucks because there’s so much chaos as a youngster that you wish you could remember all your silly and stupid stories. But then there are those moments of total embarrassment that stick in your head like a vivid memory. And thankfully, those will always stay burned in the mind map of your adult brain.
One thing I do remember was having this favorite and totally rude t-shirt that I used to wear all the time. I won some sort of silly carnival game (probably darts and a balloon) and was able to pick an iron-on of a really funny cartoon image. I remember my sister carefully ironing it on for me on your basic white t-shirt and then my running off to show it off proudly. What exactly was on that t-shirt??
Hah, before I tell you, understand that I had NO clue what it meant. And probably neither did my immigrant mother. But it was a brightly colored tree felled over with a big, smiling and toothy beaver next to the tree. And yeah, you can guess what the t-shirt said: “Save a Tree, Eat a Beaver!” And I thought it was the funniest damn thing given how it was a clever twist on a phrase. Yeah, I wore that t-shirt a lot over two summers and there MUST have been some double-take’s from adults. I’m not sure what kind of mom I had, letting me out with that t-shirt on….
The other embarrassing moment I could think of was hanging out in the back of my friend’s Jeep Grand Cherokee as we headed off for ice cream or something. Understand that my friend’s family was a very conservative and well-off family. Well-off in the tens of millions and maybe the hundred million dollar level. I mean they actually have a family foundation doing charity work in New England now.
So I’m in the back seat of the jeep and some idiot cuts the vehicle off and is just being a Mass-hole in general. I’m not sure what gets into me, maybe I was feeling a bit randy but anger wells up in me like water coming through a fire hose. Not remembering where I’m at, I scream out a loud “Fuck you” at the offensive vehicle and blow out the double-barreled middle-fingers to this transgressor. And of course in the Jeep, total silence and shock. And yes, I’m totally embarrassed with nowhere to go. We get to our destination, I give a sheepish look, shoulders rounded over and skulk away as everyone one disembarks from the Jeep, ouch….
Yeah, youth is wasted on kids and sometimes I guess I’m glad my memories are fading. And I guess if you want to remember them, all you need to do is blog them online, eh?