LJ Idol: "Three little words."
Oct. 28th, 2011 10:48 amIn the basement of our house, my father had positioned his huge metal desk just outside my bedroom. I never saw him sit there. I have no idea where it came from. Grey and cold, it looked like something rescued from an office building's dumpster, though we never had a vehicle big enough to transport such a monstrosity home.
With a child's disregard for privacy, I sometimes rifled through the drawers. Nothing I found made much sense. A cheap plastic magnifying glass...a charm bracelet...a log book chronicling a short list of parachute jumps...none of these things had any obvious-to-me connection to the man who spent more time driving to and from his IT job in Philadelphia than he did with his family. And it never occurred to me to ask him to tell me his stories of the past.
The top of the desk was covered by a large piece of tempered glass, bordered along two edges with black and silver checkered tape. Underneath the glass - the thickest glass I'd ever seen - were photos and bits of paper. My memory has dismissed the recollection of all but two of those mementos.
Upstairs, in the stylish living room with the picture window, hung family and school portraits. But here, in the basement, where living was allowed to occur, were the images I assume my father held to be more precious. Younger versions of my brother and me, dressed in plastic Halloween costumes, stared at me from behind the glass. He was the cuter sibling. I was tousled, gap-toothed. We both looked startled by the camera.
Oh, and believe me when I say that describing what we wore as "costumes" is my being generous. This was the era of boxed Halloween outfits made of vinyl tunics and plastic masks. We were Mickey Mouse and Frankenstein; we were a princess and a cowboy. Heavy winter jackets hide the travesties of "costumes," perhaps helping to inspire those vaguely dismayed expressions.
These images of a discontinued life were the ones I looked at the most as a child. I've gotten better at hiding the layers of warm clothing under October's festive garb, and my father wouldn't recognize me as I prowl through haunted halls. And the secret I've never told anyone is that I think of those photographs a lot this time of year.
Halloween, horror, and my father comingle in my memories, and in those three little words...
"Trick or treat."
(eta: photographic evidence here.)
With a child's disregard for privacy, I sometimes rifled through the drawers. Nothing I found made much sense. A cheap plastic magnifying glass...a charm bracelet...a log book chronicling a short list of parachute jumps...none of these things had any obvious-to-me connection to the man who spent more time driving to and from his IT job in Philadelphia than he did with his family. And it never occurred to me to ask him to tell me his stories of the past.
The top of the desk was covered by a large piece of tempered glass, bordered along two edges with black and silver checkered tape. Underneath the glass - the thickest glass I'd ever seen - were photos and bits of paper. My memory has dismissed the recollection of all but two of those mementos.
Upstairs, in the stylish living room with the picture window, hung family and school portraits. But here, in the basement, where living was allowed to occur, were the images I assume my father held to be more precious. Younger versions of my brother and me, dressed in plastic Halloween costumes, stared at me from behind the glass. He was the cuter sibling. I was tousled, gap-toothed. We both looked startled by the camera.
Oh, and believe me when I say that describing what we wore as "costumes" is my being generous. This was the era of boxed Halloween outfits made of vinyl tunics and plastic masks. We were Mickey Mouse and Frankenstein; we were a princess and a cowboy. Heavy winter jackets hide the travesties of "costumes," perhaps helping to inspire those vaguely dismayed expressions.
These images of a discontinued life were the ones I looked at the most as a child. I've gotten better at hiding the layers of warm clothing under October's festive garb, and my father wouldn't recognize me as I prowl through haunted halls. And the secret I've never told anyone is that I think of those photographs a lot this time of year.
Halloween, horror, and my father comingle in my memories, and in those three little words...
"Trick or treat."
(eta: photographic evidence here.)
no subject
Date: 2011-10-28 03:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-28 03:44 pm (UTC)Thank you. :)
(I think the hardest thing is waiting for the first comment - 'oh good someone noticed my entry!')
ETA: OOOPS! Sorry - forgot to unscreen. Gah!
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Date: 2011-10-28 04:07 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-10-28 05:11 pm (UTC)I like it. And I totally remember those types of costumes.
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Date: 2011-10-28 05:39 pm (UTC)(Thank you for reading!)
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Date: 2011-10-29 04:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-29 01:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-29 04:20 pm (UTC)Sometimes I think I keep a lot of his secrets.
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Date: 2011-10-29 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-29 04:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-29 03:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-29 04:18 pm (UTC)I'm sure the psychology behind why I was gifted, unasked, with these things would be a fascinating study.
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Date: 2011-10-29 07:44 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-10-29 09:07 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-10-30 04:47 am (UTC)Good take on the entry. This was a very enjoyable read! ^_^
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Date: 2011-10-31 02:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-31 02:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-31 02:29 pm (UTC)Thank you!
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Date: 2011-10-31 03:28 pm (UTC)One year I remember very well every kid (must have been 3rd or 4th grade) was Gene Simmons from Kiss in the plastic box costume. I was an exception in that era - grandma made a lot of my costumes or I got hand me downs from the neighbors. I remember a few plastic ones - and remember wishing my mom would just BUY ME ONE like everyone else.
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Date: 2011-10-31 03:33 pm (UTC)I do remember the heartache of spending what seemed like hours in the bathroom trying to use powder to make my skin pale so I could be a vampire..coming out and asking my stepmother if I looked pale and her off-the-cuff response was, "We should all look so healthy!"
*siiiigh*!
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Date: 2011-10-31 07:27 pm (UTC)Remember how a lot of the costumes didn't actually look like the character's costume, it had a picture of the character on the tunic? Ahhh...good times...
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Date: 2011-10-31 07:40 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked the writing. :)
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Date: 2011-10-31 09:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-31 09:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-01 03:45 am (UTC)This is a great phrase. :)
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Date: 2011-11-01 03:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-01 01:28 pm (UTC)Enjoyed this trip down memory lane, even if it wasn't my own street.
cheers,
Phil
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