You can make a fortune in lies
To be honest, its been a bit agonizing trying to write this blog. I have a lot of stories I can tell but the minute I open the text program here, nothing. I can't think of a single story to write about. A good friend gave me a piece of advice to help me. She has been wrestling with her own creativity lately so this advice was coming from a very honest place. Her idea: Start from the beginning.
I kind of already thought I did this with my Def Leppard blog. As I said that was the moment when the rest of my life became a bit clearer. And yet I was seven at the beginning of that story. So it was time for some hardcore memory raiding. What is my first memory? Is it at all interesting? If not, what is the first interesting one? The second? So on.
It so happens my first memory is indeed an interesting one to look back on. Its my first verifiable memory at least. Its the first thing I clearly remember and there is not pictures or anyone else to share the story with me to tell me about it. Yep, my first memory was a secret. A big one. Huge. Especially to a 3 year old.
At 3 years old, I entered pre-school. Mind you, I was a cute kid. All the 3 year old girls were trying to get my phone number. Sadly, I didn't yet have my number memorized. Blast you missed opportunity and my young unconditioned brain. To this day I do remember one girl. Amy. She was blonde. She and I would play often together. She was my "best friend" at school. We would grab toys off the shelf and play for what seemed like hours. 10 years later we started dating. 5 years later we were engaged. 5 years after that, i caught her cheating on me with a guy I had never met and I wasn't sure she had either. I cut it off right then. All those years wasted.
Ok, so everything after grabbing the toys off the shelf was a lie. I just chuckle at myself sometimes that I can remember a girl I have not seen since I was 4 yet I can't remember most of the people I went to high school with. So no, we never dated never got engaged or any of that other stuff. But we did play together. Supposedly most boys did not play with girls at that age. But I always knew where the goods were. Its always been easier for me to be friends with girls. They are fun and interesting. Always have been and always will be.
So when we would take those toys off the shelf, there was one I always played with. A Batmobile. Yes, Batman's main ride. It was the 2 seater so he could bring his boy-servant Robin along. It was based on the Batmobile that appeared in the tv show. It had a silver divider that went in between the two seats by going over the plastic windshield. On this it had buttons that made noises. I played with this Batmobile everyday. I am not even sure why. I don't think I had much exposure to batman in my youth. But this car was great. It made noises and it let my imagination run wild. I don't remember what stories I made with it or anything, but I played with that thing everyday for almost a full year of school. Thus we arrive at my first actual memory.
It started like any other day. We did whatever we did outside. Came inside and it was time to play with the toys. This day, I was playing by myself. I grabbed old faithful, my Batmobile. I started playing: zooming it around, providing my own sound effects until I needed more. Yes, my sound effects were the best in analog mouth quality, but i needed bigger and better, like George Lucas screwing with Star Wars. With my tiny sized pointer finger, I pressed the first button to trigger some sort of mind altering sound that would do nothing but enhance my playtime. But my ears were met with nothing. No Batastic siren. Nothing. I pressed the next button. Nothing. I pressed the third and final button, my only hope…much like Obi Wan Kenobi to Princess Leia in the first Star Wars. Wow, what's with the Star Wars references? Am I a Kevin Smith movie? Enough. This is Batman dammit!! Upon pressing the third button my fears were confirmed. My favorite toy, my constant companion, my imagination station, had stalled.
As a three year old I knew of only one thing to do. I picked up the toy and calmly walked it to the teacher to see if she had any batteries to fix my toy. Wait, that was my second lie in the story. Not at all what i did. Nope, my first memory is also my first memory of my first lie. Or my first memory of saving my own skin. I pressed the buttons again, but harder. I would make this damn Batmobile work! Rapidly I pressed each button harder and harder until I heard a crack. Something was broken. This went from bad to worse All of a sudden, the windshield of the Batmobile was wedged into the gears underneath. My Batmobile was immobile. My Batmobile was broken and beaten. I was devastated. I played with this thing everyday and now, it was dead. What to do next?
What I did next was the part very few people know about. I looked around, most likely in a panic to see if anyone had heard or seen what I had done. They hadn't! I was halfway in the clear. Next, I had to formulate the plan to get this thing out of my hands and back to the shelf before anyone suspected I had done anything. As i peered around suspiciously, i picked up the Batmobile and slowly walked it back to the shelf. I tried to give the aloof appearance that I was done playing with this particular toy for the moment and perhaps was just moving on to something else. That walk felt like 10 miles. I felt that all the eyes were on me. Sure they did not see it, but they knew. I never put the toy back early, but I had to get the evidence out of my hands! What choice did I have? I could not be caught with this faulty super hero transportation machine! I had to put it back, I tell ya, I just had to.
So back on the shelf it went. The Batmobile I played with daily was broken and back where I got it from everyday. The 3rd shelf. And it would stay there. I never played with it again. I mean, it was broken. How was I going to play with it? But that wasn't my logic. My 3 year old brain came up with the idea that if I never played with the Batmobile again, I would never be linked to its demise. Ok it wasn't the best plan ever. But I was three! Sure enough, everyday I looked at that car but never picked it up again. Nor was I ever accused of breaking it. I'm not sure anyone ever noticed it was broken. All I knew was that I was in the clear. And that was all that mattered.
Sure, looking back it was a big silly nothing incident, but when I was 3, it was huge. And like I said, Its my first real memory. I never told anyone about it. Not until at least 20 years later. Yet, here I am putting it out there. "Start at the beginning", she said. Well this was the beginning. The beginning of a life full of breaking Batmobiles and saving my own ass. Ok, maybe just the second part.
I kind of already thought I did this with my Def Leppard blog. As I said that was the moment when the rest of my life became a bit clearer. And yet I was seven at the beginning of that story. So it was time for some hardcore memory raiding. What is my first memory? Is it at all interesting? If not, what is the first interesting one? The second? So on.
It so happens my first memory is indeed an interesting one to look back on. Its my first verifiable memory at least. Its the first thing I clearly remember and there is not pictures or anyone else to share the story with me to tell me about it. Yep, my first memory was a secret. A big one. Huge. Especially to a 3 year old.
At 3 years old, I entered pre-school. Mind you, I was a cute kid. All the 3 year old girls were trying to get my phone number. Sadly, I didn't yet have my number memorized. Blast you missed opportunity and my young unconditioned brain. To this day I do remember one girl. Amy. She was blonde. She and I would play often together. She was my "best friend" at school. We would grab toys off the shelf and play for what seemed like hours. 10 years later we started dating. 5 years later we were engaged. 5 years after that, i caught her cheating on me with a guy I had never met and I wasn't sure she had either. I cut it off right then. All those years wasted.
Ok, so everything after grabbing the toys off the shelf was a lie. I just chuckle at myself sometimes that I can remember a girl I have not seen since I was 4 yet I can't remember most of the people I went to high school with. So no, we never dated never got engaged or any of that other stuff. But we did play together. Supposedly most boys did not play with girls at that age. But I always knew where the goods were. Its always been easier for me to be friends with girls. They are fun and interesting. Always have been and always will be.
So when we would take those toys off the shelf, there was one I always played with. A Batmobile. Yes, Batman's main ride. It was the 2 seater so he could bring his boy-servant Robin along. It was based on the Batmobile that appeared in the tv show. It had a silver divider that went in between the two seats by going over the plastic windshield. On this it had buttons that made noises. I played with this Batmobile everyday. I am not even sure why. I don't think I had much exposure to batman in my youth. But this car was great. It made noises and it let my imagination run wild. I don't remember what stories I made with it or anything, but I played with that thing everyday for almost a full year of school. Thus we arrive at my first actual memory.
It started like any other day. We did whatever we did outside. Came inside and it was time to play with the toys. This day, I was playing by myself. I grabbed old faithful, my Batmobile. I started playing: zooming it around, providing my own sound effects until I needed more. Yes, my sound effects were the best in analog mouth quality, but i needed bigger and better, like George Lucas screwing with Star Wars. With my tiny sized pointer finger, I pressed the first button to trigger some sort of mind altering sound that would do nothing but enhance my playtime. But my ears were met with nothing. No Batastic siren. Nothing. I pressed the next button. Nothing. I pressed the third and final button, my only hope…much like Obi Wan Kenobi to Princess Leia in the first Star Wars. Wow, what's with the Star Wars references? Am I a Kevin Smith movie? Enough. This is Batman dammit!! Upon pressing the third button my fears were confirmed. My favorite toy, my constant companion, my imagination station, had stalled.
As a three year old I knew of only one thing to do. I picked up the toy and calmly walked it to the teacher to see if she had any batteries to fix my toy. Wait, that was my second lie in the story. Not at all what i did. Nope, my first memory is also my first memory of my first lie. Or my first memory of saving my own skin. I pressed the buttons again, but harder. I would make this damn Batmobile work! Rapidly I pressed each button harder and harder until I heard a crack. Something was broken. This went from bad to worse All of a sudden, the windshield of the Batmobile was wedged into the gears underneath. My Batmobile was immobile. My Batmobile was broken and beaten. I was devastated. I played with this thing everyday and now, it was dead. What to do next?
What I did next was the part very few people know about. I looked around, most likely in a panic to see if anyone had heard or seen what I had done. They hadn't! I was halfway in the clear. Next, I had to formulate the plan to get this thing out of my hands and back to the shelf before anyone suspected I had done anything. As i peered around suspiciously, i picked up the Batmobile and slowly walked it back to the shelf. I tried to give the aloof appearance that I was done playing with this particular toy for the moment and perhaps was just moving on to something else. That walk felt like 10 miles. I felt that all the eyes were on me. Sure they did not see it, but they knew. I never put the toy back early, but I had to get the evidence out of my hands! What choice did I have? I could not be caught with this faulty super hero transportation machine! I had to put it back, I tell ya, I just had to.
So back on the shelf it went. The Batmobile I played with daily was broken and back where I got it from everyday. The 3rd shelf. And it would stay there. I never played with it again. I mean, it was broken. How was I going to play with it? But that wasn't my logic. My 3 year old brain came up with the idea that if I never played with the Batmobile again, I would never be linked to its demise. Ok it wasn't the best plan ever. But I was three! Sure enough, everyday I looked at that car but never picked it up again. Nor was I ever accused of breaking it. I'm not sure anyone ever noticed it was broken. All I knew was that I was in the clear. And that was all that mattered.
Sure, looking back it was a big silly nothing incident, but when I was 3, it was huge. And like I said, Its my first real memory. I never told anyone about it. Not until at least 20 years later. Yet, here I am putting it out there. "Start at the beginning", she said. Well this was the beginning. The beginning of a life full of breaking Batmobiles and saving my own ass. Ok, maybe just the second part.
posted by Jon M Hyde at
2:33 AM
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