Sunday, December 11, 2005

Christmas Memory: Mistletoe Magic

When I was growing up in Campbell, CA, I had a best friend that lived on my block. His name was Shawn. Think Ricky Schroder from Silver Spoons and you just about have a perfect image of him. Our parents were friends and we spent our early years playing in the neighborhood, at his house or mine or somewhere in between. That was the '70's when block parties and swingers were big- though to my knowledge, none of those "adult" parties our parents threw were the kind where you leave your keys in the bowl and go home with someone different than who you came with. (Mom, you'll have to clear this up for everyone.)

Does this ever happen to you? I often think I am telling a story that was made up by my overactive imagination. Particularly when it comes to childhood. It is as though I have seen too many photos to be able to discern what is real and what is imaginary. Or as though I have heard the story so many times from family that it has become true.

Where was I going with this? Oh right. Shawn. I always had a crush on Shawn. Even as a really little girl, I was enamored. Hello, he was a little Ricky Schroder! I can only hope, for his sake, he grew up handsome like his celebrity likeness. I remember one Christmas very distinctly- The 70's green painted kitchen. The smell of Christmas cookies baking. My Mom in a holiday apron. In the photo I have, Shawn and I are leaning on the kitchen counter, facing each other under the mistletoe. Him with his white blonde hair cut in a bowl cut, me with my honey colored locks dangling in curls, both of us smiling for the camera with the mistletoe hanging above us. This was the moment of my first kiss.

It was just a kiss between two kids, two friends from the neighborhood- innocent enough but it was magical to me. Oh how I loved Shawn. Later, as we entered the awkward pre-teen years, he had become Mr. Cool, praciticing his breakdancing moves with his friends on a piece of cardboard on the sidewalk in front of his house. They'd play their music and dance for hours, taking turns doing tricks. I'd watch from two houses down, trying not to be too obvious, feeling very aware of my crush. I'd play "Let's Hear it for the Boy" from the Footloose soundtrack over and over as my song to him. Obviously, I was a royal dorkus but then, who isn't at that age? Please tell me you were a dork too. And while you are at it, a holiday memory from you childhood.

15 comments:

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Sizzle said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Anonymous said...

No desperate housewives in Campbell in the 70's. The most wild and crazy we got a party was the pass the orange under your chin game and the loser had to take a drink! It was an excuse to get close to a neighbor you normally wouldn't be snuggling with. Oh and the twister game was wild and crazy times too!!

And your memeory of Shawn is correct, except you forgot to mention he was also the first boy you bit! At lease that I knew of?
m

erin said...

I love that you used the phrase "royal dorkus". That reminded me of my childhood friend Courtney, with whom I had many adventures (at the neighborhood pool and park, but adventures nonetheless).

I was actually going to write about a childhood holiday memory today.....

Krisco said...

Yes, we were all dorkuses then. Probably most os all those who thought they were really cool then. (Were there any? They were dorks too.)

I completely understand the neighborhood crush thing. I had a few of my own. Sadly I dated one later and it's amazing how little you can have in common who grew up - um - right next door.

Also, I completely relate to the - is that a photo memory? or a real memory? - thing. Have that with a lot of the childhood photos/memories.

Krisco said...

Geez, I dropped a lot of words in that last comment. Hope you can parse / patch it together anyway.

goldmoon said...

There is a picture of me somewhere in which I'm having my first kiss. It was at Christmastime, with the babysitter's kid. I think we were both about five. He was not the love of my life, however, I'm pretty sure he picked on me and made my life at the babysitter's miserable. But thanks for bringing back that memory... : )

Anonymous said...

I like to think I was more of a doofus than a dorkus, but I've listened to my fair share of the Footloose soundtrack.

Christmas is great isn't it?

Ben O.

Ben O. said...

Sorry, I didn't mean to post anon . . .

Ben O.

Nihilistic said...

I was a dork...Hell, I'm still a dork! My holiday memory would be making sugar cookies with my Grandmother! Oh man I want one right now!

mango said...

My holiday memories from when I was young are always around Christmas Eve. There is a certain still, expectant feeling in the air - gives me shivers when I think about it.

Kris said...

Truly, I sometimes believe you and I were separated at birth.

My Christmas memory: visiting grandparents in Florida, being so excited on Christmas morning that I didn't notice the sliding door was closed between me and the tree. Smack.

Amanda said...

I remember my two brothers were fighting and knocked the whole tree down...just as my dad walked into the house. We had broken ornaments everywhere. Not a pleasant memory but one nonetheless.. :) Hope you have a wonderful Christmas Sizz.

sue said...

I was a dork, too. For sure. Memory? The year I found my presents. Ruined it for me. After that I never peeked again.

Lushy said...

My dorky moment (well, one of about a million) involved singing Grease's Hopelessly Devoted to You to my crush, neighbor Aaron. I even did the one armed twirl around the porch support (Was it a sign that I was to be a pole dancer?), and threw paper in the inflatable pool. Then I chased him, threw him down in the sandbox and kissed him. He moved away the next month.