RNF LI

14 October, 2011
Rat Fink

So, I wonder things this day. Having just responded to yesterday’s comments on strange dreams, I got to thinking about how much, as children, our perspective is janked.

Analyze this:

  • When I was, oh, 5 or 6 years old, my mom bought some Bible stories on 33 RPM records. They came complete with sound effects and dramatic readings. I only remember one tale from the collection, and only because it terrified me. It was the story of the Passion. At the point where Roman soldiers came to Gethsemane to arrest Jesus, the narrator’s voice took on a dark, sinister tone, and he said something like, “Then the soldiers came to take him away.” Starting very softly and growing into this horrible crescendo came the sound of marching boots (did they even have boots back then?). Closer and closer, louder and louder. I was positively terrorized by that sound, as if they were coming to get me. Honestly, I can reproduce the sound in my mind right now, like it was 1964 all over again.
  • Suzanne’s comment about having a recurring nightmare where giant pins chased her reminded me of this weirdness from my own childhood. Sometime in elementary school, I learned about Abraham Lincoln’s assassination, via filmstrip. (Remember filmstrips, with the accompanying records for narration with the little beep tones that told you when to flip to the next frame? I loved being chosen to be the flipper.) At some point, it showed that old cartoon drawing of Booth shooting Lincoln. Again: terrorized. I had never ever in my life seen anyone in print or on television point a gun at someone’s head. And for some bizarre, unknown reason, I developed a fear that lasted for years afterward: Abraham Lincoln was lying underneath my bed, ready to grab my feet as I got in or out. So I’d turn off my bedroom light, get a running start, and perform the Olympic long jump into bed. I mean I made it from five feet away. Silver medal style. I did that for years. True confession: I still get ooky standing next to a bed.
  • Remember when you thought your house was really big? This past summer, the Thriller and I took a nostalgic trip to my childhood home in Milwaukee. I remember how huge my front yard looked to me, after Dad had the sod laid down. It was like a meadow. Seeing it 37 years later? Not so much. But it was enormous, I know it was…
Jake and Justin like to ride their trikes down a little slope in our back yard. And by little, I mean a gentle incline. They call it “the mountain.” To them, I’m sure it looks huge. Ten years from now, when they visit, one will say to the other, “Remember when we used to call that ‘the mountain?'” Sometimes I think stuff is ruined by growing up. True wonder is rare in adult life, ja?
~
Hey, it’s Finkday! FINALLY. :-)
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RD
RD
14 October, 2011 4:24 pm

I had a dream that tomorrow morning I’m headed out on a trip to the Sunshine state. O wait, that’s not a dream. It’s really true!

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Rat Fink Reply:

Off to Paradise you go — just rub it in, why don’t ya!?!? :-) Have a safe trip – mail when you’re all settled in!

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PKPudlin
14 October, 2011 9:53 pm

What’s really depressing is finding out your elementary school (church, childhood home, childhood park, etc) isn’t there anymore, or has been turned into something else, like a parking lot.

On a sweeter note, I just had to share these:
http://sixinthesuburbsblog.blogspot.com/2011/10/chocolate-peanutbutter-acorns.html

Maybe when you’re done playing with your cake pans, you can try this. I’m going to give it a shot…

PK

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Rat Fink Reply:

Whoa! Those look fantastic, and so easy! We’re having a Boss’s Day potluck on Monday — I think I’m going to make those. Thanks for the link, doll!

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Suzanne
15 October, 2011 6:07 am

Ahh Jake and Justin have a mountain! We had a mountain, too, in our front yard. It was giNORmous and we’d run up and down it (no riding bikes because it was grass and that weren’t allowed), try and do handstands and flips off of it. Ahhh yes….whenever I am in town I go by The Ole House and yes, it seems quite small now. I even saw the owner once and he asked if I wanted to go inside. I politely said no and explained that I wanted to remember it how it was when I lived there. I… Read more »