Day 7 - Can Can
I grew up in a couple of very weird towns. Between the ages of eight and twelve I lived in a town that was literally a hill and not much else. If it was a mile walk to the other side it was a lot. This meant that everyone knew everyone's business. It was hard not to when the houses were so close you could seriously reach into the neighbors kitchen window and pour yourself a cup of coffee from your own kitchen.
This made for a lot of annoyances for the adults but it was great for us kids.
There was never a minute that you were friendless. If you walked out of your front door you were guaranteed to see someone else walking out theirs. We all hung out at three or four places in town, depending on age, and there was always at least 10-20 kids in each spot.It was a kid's paradise. The parents had no clue where we were, but no one worried. They knew you were with friends and you could only be up to a mile away.
Because it was a very eclectic town, there were a lot of events that took place. And while they were mostly geared toward children, I am positive they came about because of the adults attempting to one up each other. Although it was a very middle class town, "keeping up with the Joneses'" ran rampant.
Each summer we had Children's Day. In reality it was a weekend event full of contests, performances, parades and midways. Every year parents would volunteer to help the kids put on a production at the tabernacle in town. It was a wonderful building with tons of windows and an old stage. If you wanted to be in the production you tried out. You made it or you didn't. I can distinctly recall being a card in Alice in Wonderland and a can can girl in something.
I was taught the can can routine by a neighbor who ultimately ended up my dad's girlfriend years later. At the time, however, my mom was put on the mission to adorn me in the half size coke cans that came out in the 70s. My siblings and I were happy to oblige by drinking enough for all the girls to have a dozen hanging off their tush under their skirt.
During the weekend a king and queen were also crowned. It was an obvious popularity contest and typically if your parents were someone you had a fighting chance. It was during that competition, the can can year, that I realized I liked girls. Gerry W won that year. She was about 17. I was 8. I can remember quite vividly the dress she wore, her feathered hair and the fact that she kissed me on the cheek for telling her she looked beautiful. And even though I had been infatuated with many older women in the previous years, this was the moment I knew what it meant. This was the moment I knew what those feelings were.
I still have a picture of Gerry that night. And although it has been forty years since that can can performance and that kiss on the cheek, I can recall it like it was yesterday.
Just don't ask me to do the dance.
I grew up in a couple of very weird towns. Between the ages of eight and twelve I lived in a town that was literally a hill and not much else. If it was a mile walk to the other side it was a lot. This meant that everyone knew everyone's business. It was hard not to when the houses were so close you could seriously reach into the neighbors kitchen window and pour yourself a cup of coffee from your own kitchen.
This made for a lot of annoyances for the adults but it was great for us kids.
There was never a minute that you were friendless. If you walked out of your front door you were guaranteed to see someone else walking out theirs. We all hung out at three or four places in town, depending on age, and there was always at least 10-20 kids in each spot.It was a kid's paradise. The parents had no clue where we were, but no one worried. They knew you were with friends and you could only be up to a mile away.
Because it was a very eclectic town, there were a lot of events that took place. And while they were mostly geared toward children, I am positive they came about because of the adults attempting to one up each other. Although it was a very middle class town, "keeping up with the Joneses'" ran rampant.
Each summer we had Children's Day. In reality it was a weekend event full of contests, performances, parades and midways. Every year parents would volunteer to help the kids put on a production at the tabernacle in town. It was a wonderful building with tons of windows and an old stage. If you wanted to be in the production you tried out. You made it or you didn't. I can distinctly recall being a card in Alice in Wonderland and a can can girl in something.
I was taught the can can routine by a neighbor who ultimately ended up my dad's girlfriend years later. At the time, however, my mom was put on the mission to adorn me in the half size coke cans that came out in the 70s. My siblings and I were happy to oblige by drinking enough for all the girls to have a dozen hanging off their tush under their skirt.
During the weekend a king and queen were also crowned. It was an obvious popularity contest and typically if your parents were someone you had a fighting chance. It was during that competition, the can can year, that I realized I liked girls. Gerry W won that year. She was about 17. I was 8. I can remember quite vividly the dress she wore, her feathered hair and the fact that she kissed me on the cheek for telling her she looked beautiful. And even though I had been infatuated with many older women in the previous years, this was the moment I knew what it meant. This was the moment I knew what those feelings were.
I still have a picture of Gerry that night. And although it has been forty years since that can can performance and that kiss on the cheek, I can recall it like it was yesterday.
Just don't ask me to do the dance.
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