As I was coming up with the blog itself and the layout and opening paragraph... I realized I already had something to write about. Go figure.
So I grew up (as it were) on Liszt Street in Portage, Michigan. For those who don't know, I still live in Portage, but not on Liszt. We moved away from there when I was 8 or 9. Like I said: I have a Swiss Cheese-like memory.
Anyway, I really do remember spotty occurrences on Liszt. I remember my friends (if you're either Kurt Hildorf or Jeff Hanson on my FaceBook page, well, you remember me, too). I remember attending Central Elementary and, very vaguely, the goings on in that school. But as for my childhood adventures, well...
My memory might be full of holes, but a few key moments to stick out pretty readily. Strangely, they seem to be the moments where -generally- something major went down. Ya know, like a birthday party or when we built a fort... stuff like that. In this particular case, there was a swamp...
Way back in the day (and by way back I mean the early 80's) there was nothing at the end of our street. The end that wasn't attached to Beethoven, anyway. And what encompassed the 'nothing' was a decent sized field full of overgrowth, some small farmland, a little wooded area, and in the middle, some pretty impressive swampiness full of primordial ooze and probably snakes. And it was really, really cool. Scary as hell and dangerous, but cool.
So, as adventurous boys will do, we skirted the swamp pretty frequently and, for the most part, avoided going too near or, especially, in it. We had a really amazing tree fort on the outskirts of the bog made inside a huge, fallen tree. Right inside the branches. We had, somehow, removed enough of the branches to actually serve as an opening for a fort. We actually hung pictures of things we'd found in magazines like Tiger Beat and whatnot (and no I don't mean pictures of dudes... unless said dudes were awesome!). I remember getting a spray bottle of Armor All and actually cleaning the planks of wood we'd nailed up for ascetic value. Although I can't figure out why we'd do that...
Anyway, the point is, someone got a foot stuck in the swamp and left a boot there. I really don't remember who, and I guess it doesn't matter, but I do remember it being either the end of winter or very early spring because the swamp was still coated with a thin veneer of ice. One of us dared the other to step on the edge right where the thawing ice was beginning to flake away from the matted vegetation. And sure enough, stuck! Right in the ice. Ya know, it might have been me because I sort of remember tromping home with a frozen sock and equally frozen tears. I think my dad might have intercepted me (this was long before my parents divorced and he was likely home on this particular weekend day) and quite likely marched me back (with different shoes on, obviously) to intercept my slowly sinking boot. Like I said, my memory is like a poorly played Tetris screen and there are definitely a few missing pieces.
Now let's not forget this particular lead-in and scenario, since both are likely to bring up a few more buried gems. Oh, and here's a shot of my street how it is now. I'll have to find one from the 80's for next time.
So I grew up (as it were) on Liszt Street in Portage, Michigan. For those who don't know, I still live in Portage, but not on Liszt. We moved away from there when I was 8 or 9. Like I said: I have a Swiss Cheese-like memory.
Anyway, I really do remember spotty occurrences on Liszt. I remember my friends (if you're either Kurt Hildorf or Jeff Hanson on my FaceBook page, well, you remember me, too). I remember attending Central Elementary and, very vaguely, the goings on in that school. But as for my childhood adventures, well...
My memory might be full of holes, but a few key moments to stick out pretty readily. Strangely, they seem to be the moments where -generally- something major went down. Ya know, like a birthday party or when we built a fort... stuff like that. In this particular case, there was a swamp...
Way back in the day (and by way back I mean the early 80's) there was nothing at the end of our street. The end that wasn't attached to Beethoven, anyway. And what encompassed the 'nothing' was a decent sized field full of overgrowth, some small farmland, a little wooded area, and in the middle, some pretty impressive swampiness full of primordial ooze and probably snakes. And it was really, really cool. Scary as hell and dangerous, but cool.
So, as adventurous boys will do, we skirted the swamp pretty frequently and, for the most part, avoided going too near or, especially, in it. We had a really amazing tree fort on the outskirts of the bog made inside a huge, fallen tree. Right inside the branches. We had, somehow, removed enough of the branches to actually serve as an opening for a fort. We actually hung pictures of things we'd found in magazines like Tiger Beat and whatnot (and no I don't mean pictures of dudes... unless said dudes were awesome!). I remember getting a spray bottle of Armor All and actually cleaning the planks of wood we'd nailed up for ascetic value. Although I can't figure out why we'd do that...
Anyway, the point is, someone got a foot stuck in the swamp and left a boot there. I really don't remember who, and I guess it doesn't matter, but I do remember it being either the end of winter or very early spring because the swamp was still coated with a thin veneer of ice. One of us dared the other to step on the edge right where the thawing ice was beginning to flake away from the matted vegetation. And sure enough, stuck! Right in the ice. Ya know, it might have been me because I sort of remember tromping home with a frozen sock and equally frozen tears. I think my dad might have intercepted me (this was long before my parents divorced and he was likely home on this particular weekend day) and quite likely marched me back (with different shoes on, obviously) to intercept my slowly sinking boot. Like I said, my memory is like a poorly played Tetris screen and there are definitely a few missing pieces.
Now let's not forget this particular lead-in and scenario, since both are likely to bring up a few more buried gems. Oh, and here's a shot of my street how it is now. I'll have to find one from the 80's for next time.
No comments:
Post a Comment