"Hey Beaver, let's try smokin' it." - Larry Mondello, "Leave It to Beaver"
It wasn’t too long after our cat Laddy ran away sometime between 1975 and ’76 that a new stray kitten ingratiated himself to us and merged his little self into our household. My Dad gave him the moniker Charcoal simply because he was solid gray…charcoal gray. I had established a fondness for kitties at a young age, and I fell in love with this little guy right off the bat. We decided to keep him as an outdoor cat that would occasionally come inside.
Just when I didn’t think I had anything of the kind, I discovered a few snapshots nestled into one of my Grandma Range’s photo albums. Actually, the photos were taken at Bill and Dottie’s house in New Lebanon for a joint celebration of my birthday and my cousin Rob’s birthday, which happens to fall 13 days after mine on October 15. Rob was turning seven and I was turning four. In truth it was probably Rob’s celebration, but since I was a little upstart – they threw me a bone and put my name on the cake and let me help blow out the candle. Read the rest of this entry »
The Summer of 1976 was over and my Mom wanted me the hell out of the house. Okay, it probably wasn’t that drastic, but she did try to get me in to Kindergarten that Fall because she felt that I was in desperate need of a challenge. My birthday, being on October 2, was two days over the deadline to get into school, so I needed to be tested to see if I was ready to be enrolled early. I passed every test with flying colors, except for one thing: I cried for my Mom when they took me in to be tested. I had never done that before (at least since I was a toddler) and never did it again to my knowledge. Read the rest of this entry »
I don’t have a whole lot of distinct memories of the Summer of ’76. At the age of four, my mind was just beginning to retain some of the events going on around me. I had been granted a little sister in April and was surely enjoying watching her grow and become a bit more sturdy so that I could handle her more frequently. My life on Echo Hill was a happy one – an existence where I could walk across the street and play with my best friend Andrea Ferrenberg, scurry back through the woods behind her house, traipse through our huge outdoor garden, watch my favorite shows like Gilligan’s Island on TV, play records and reel-to-reel tapes at will, and spend time with my Grandparents and extended family. Soon I would be attending pre-school and the unbridled freedom would come to a screeching halt. Read the rest of this entry »