My sister Debbie was here for the weekend, all the way from Grand Prairie (Grand River? Grand Valley? Grand Somewhere-Near-Orangeville). She just moved there with her sweetie, Rob, and now she has a haywagon. So we were out for brunch at Stoneface Dolly’s on Sunday and her old friend Bonnie was with us, and a few names from the past came up.
“What’s DG doing now?” I asked.
“Oh, she hasn’t changed a bit,” said Debbie, “You never liked her though. She was mean to you.”
“Mean to me? Why?”
“Because you were different,” said Debbie.
‘Different’ has kind of a euphemistic ring to it, don’t you think? This was definitely worth pursuing.
“Different?” I asked, “Different how?”
“Oh you know,” said Debbie, “Just different.” And then she changed the subject!
I followed up with her later in the car as we were driving to Canadian Tire. I can be relentless.
“Different how?” I asked. I rummaged through her purse and found a pen and a scrap of paper to write on, “I’m blogging this.”
She started to laugh. And here is what my big sister said about me. (A bit of context: she was 11 and I was 10 and we had just moved to Kinburn, Ontario, population about 350.)
“You weren’t different odd, you were just different from everybody else there. You fought for what you believed in, and girls just didn’t do that back then. I just wanted to fit in. I wanted us to fit in. You embarassed the hell out of me, but only because I wanted you to be normal because I had a crush on Leonard Baskin and you were ruining my chances with him by being so different.”
Then I read it back to her and we laughed and laughed.
Welcome to my blog Deb – you’re gonna be SOOOOO embarassed if Leonard Baskin reads this! LOL.
LOL! Great post, Zoom! And yeah, I think you are different but a good kind of different. The kind that makes you interesting
I think I would not read your blog so often if you were just average. But who is average and what is average anyway?
Yes, I am definitely embarrassed…not that Leonard Baskin might see it, but that those words actually came out of my mouth.
Awwww, don’t be embarassed, it was funny! Besides, you were eleven years old and newly transplanted into redneck country. You were suffering from culture shock.
(But I’ll delete it if you’re embarassed by it. Just say the word and it’s gone.)
No,I deserve it…lessons learned.
Your family members and friends are much more restrained with you than mine are. Instead of “different”, I get kooky, eccentric and weird.
Dakota, thank you – you make kooky sound like something everybody would want to strive for!
David, I think “eccentric” is a compliment (but then again, I’m weird). I wouldn’t worry until they start calling you a freakazoid.
I saw you had 6 comments so I wondered if Leonard Baskin HAD read it!
Sorry about the whole moving angst – it is horrible anyway and made worse if you don’t have someone to help on a daily (i.e. live-in) basis. Not that I’m volunteering, sorry!
And anyway, I don’t have a car either.
Cool! Leonard Baskin is famous!
Thanks Julia, I appreciate the almost-offer, lol. I never would’ve pegged OUR Leonard Baskin for an artist, but hey, there’s something kinda cool about being a dead american sculptor, right? Debbie always could pick the cool boys.