Just Little Ol' Me

Deuces!

It’s been ages since I’ve written anything and for that I do apologize. But then again, that just means we have so much fun stuff to catch up on!

I am the recent recipient of a new iPhone and I’ve got to tell you it is true love. I’m a glorified iPhoney. Actually I’m more in love with the apps, namely Twitter. For those of you that are Tweeps you can follow me at @melsiev3. For those of you who don’t know what that means you already know how to follow me. J

So I’ve decided to write a memoir.  As I get closer to the big 5-OH I find myself thinking a lot about my life and you, dear, dear reader get to be the recipient of those ruminations! Yay!  Mostly though, this is about the love only true friendship brings. I'll be adding to this often. I hope you'll stick with me.  Enjoy!

My first memories are just snapshots really.

Click - I’m sitting on the hood of my dad’s car in my blue velvet sailor suit with my black plastic old timey phone while he takes my picture with his old timey camera. It was a little bothersome really.  I just wanted to call somebody and try not to slide off that big ass car to my death.
 

Click – Driving to Arizona with my grandparents. I was three. My great aunt Billie and uncle Jack lived up in the mountains in a cabin. They were the caretakers of a big estate or some such shit. I remember my Uncle Jack carrying me everywhere because he was afraid I’d “git bit” by a rattlesnake or carried off by mountain lions or something. My Grandmother being apalled that I kept putting his stinky old work hat and boots on. Apparently they were gross. I thought they smelled like Heaven.

Click - Same Arizona trip, taking a walk with my Grandfather where we found a little mountain stream. In the stream there were all of these tadpoles. Seriously there were millions of them all swishing around. He reached down and scooped some up in his hands.  I was fascinated by how they just swam around in his big hands.  For the whole time I knew my Grandfather I was fascinated by his hands. They were beautiful. I would sit on his lap and just stare at his hands.  My mother’s hands look a lot like his hands although she’ll probably hate that I said that. I’ve always loved her hands too.

Click – Same trip to Arizona. Maybe even the same walk. My Grandpa and I came upon this big empty swimming pool out in the middle of the desert.  Weird, right? We walked down the pool steps and all of a sudden there were all of these little lizards running everywhere.  I remember my Grandpa climbing out of the pool and standing on the edge laughing his ass off while I chased those fuckers everywhere. I have no idea what I would have done if I’d caught one. Probably shit myself.

Click – I’m riding the silver gas tank in my grandparent’s backyard like it was a prize racehorse, getting silver paint all over my legs and clothes (much to Grandma’s dismay!”) yelling “Yah!” at the top of my lungs until the next door neighbor came up to the fence and asked me if I was retarded. I said no, I am GERONIMO!

Click – My mom, who like everyone in my family EXCEPT me is an exceptional athlete, wanted to teach me how to catch a ball with my baseball glove. She’d throw it. I’d hold my glove up in front of my face like she taught me and just about the time the ball got to me I’d step aside. Apparently I was afraid of the ball. And like any good parent who wants to teach their child not to be afraid of something they must first prove that it will not kill them. So mom threw the ball at my head as hard as she could, well maybe not that hard. I guess she was thinking I would instinctively put my glove in front of my face. I didn’t. The ball hit me right in the nose. Good throw, Mom. Blood gushed everywhere and it HURT like a mofo. My Grandma, who had witnessed the whole event, was so mad at my Mom.  I’ve never seen my mom so contrite.  But you know what? I always had my glove up in front of my face from that point on.

Click – Being sent into the store when I was five or six to buy cigarettes (you could do that in the sixties) for my mom and my aunt. While inside the store they’d move the car. Mom always swore they never lost sight of me. I just remember standing there like a dumbass wondering if the Indians that my mother always threatened to send me too when I was bad would throw balls at my head too.  This happened so many times that after a while I always knew to look for the car anywhere but where it was when I went into the store. Now you may think that a cruel joke to play on a child but I tell you what, it taught me something.

Fear is conquerable.

I have a lot more clicks but I think that’s enough for now.