The Lord Of The Dance Meets The World Champion Hider
A score of years resides between present day, and when the events of this story actually took place. It’s often hard to process memory within the construct of time, as it truly becomes less reliable the further you get from the event.
However, here are the facts; as I remember them:
1. On Christmas Day, 1996, My father and I each received a ticket to see Michael Flatley’s Lord Of The Dance.
2. The tickets were a gift from my Uncle Mike and Aunt Donna Hickey.
3. They also had tickets for the event.
4. The event was for April 1997, at the Fleet Center, in Boston.
5. My father and I received the tickets as a split gift, which is to say that they were wrapped individually and given to us separately.
6. We were excited to receive the gift.
7. I took the ticket home from my Uncle’s home, and put it on top of my bureau, for safekeeping.
8. My father took his ticket and put it in a special place so that he would not forget where he put it.
9. Five months later, when the time for the event arrived, my Father could not find the ticket, nor remember the special place he put it so he wouldn’t forget it.
10. I gave my Father my ticket, so he could go.
11. After two moves, we still have never been able to find the ticket.
12. When my Father was incapacitated by a stroke, I surely thought his last words would be that he remembered where he put that ticket.
Some time ago, circa 1988, I was gifted my first pair of SONY WM (Walkman). This yellow beauty right here in the picture above. I’m pretty sure my Mother picked it up at Boston Sound
which was located on Tremont Street, about ten blocks north of my High School, Don Bosco Tech.
As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, my Mother was quite a savvy shopper. I’d be surprised if she hadn’t got them on sale.
What was particularly interesting about this Christmas Gift, was that it was not something I asked for.
Some of the ladies at my Mother’s work were getting them for their kids, so she went out on a limb and grabbed them for me.
I’m glad she did. I had never had portable music to that point. It was a wonderful gift, which I never knew I wanted, but soon couldn’t be parted from.
When I think of how easy it is to access entertainment content these days by simply downloading it to a device, I wax nostalgic for a chunky device run by non-rechargeable batteries, that you had to insert the magnetic content into directly in order to play music.
There was no cloud, you had to keep a series of “tapes” in your pockets, if you wanted to hear particular albums.
I’m pretty sure I had Genesis, Hall &Oates, Def Leppard, and Phil Collins on rotation.
This was but a sampling of the soundtrack of my life. I plugged in, and walked back and forth from my home on Medford Street, to my corner “gang” on a Pearl Street.
I don’t think I ever told my Mother how much I appreciated that freedom and sensibility.
It was a turbulent time of learning to leave childhood, and forge ahead into youngmandom.
Ya done good, Ma. Ya done good.
Whenever I wear headphones these days, I often think of my first pair of WM. A truly great Christmas Gift, which I never knew I wanted, but I truly loved.I think of that, and of my Mother shuffling back and forth from the admissions office to the Emergency Ward at MGH. While wearing her own headphones and jamming to Lionel Richie’s “Can’t Slow Down”. She’d travel her own turbulent times over those years, but that is for another blog’s consideration.
A happy Christmas memory resides in a song every time I hear it…
“Everybody sing, everybody dance Lose yourself in wild romance, we going to Parti’, karamu’, fiesta, forever Come on and sing along We’re going to parti’, karamu’, fiesta, forever Come on and sing along
All night long (all night), all night (all night) All night long (all night), all night (all night) All night long (all night), all night (all night) All night long (all night), ooh yeah (all night)”
What were you expecting from Advent Calendar Day 10? If you said Christmas Pajamas, well you hit the stripe on the candy cane. Christmas Eve Pajamas is another one of the things on the list of my Mother’s enduring Christmas legacies.
Every year, we were allowed to open one gift and one gift only on Christmas Eve: Christmas Eve PJs.
As you can see above, my sister was scheduled to stay with the Ingalls Family in Minnesota for Christmas. While I was scheduled to go to Starfleet Academy after the Epiphany. Get a load of me with those fuzzy blue and red slippers. I was at the ready to kick the face of any burglars that broke into our apartment and was able to get through my extensive network of jump rope, fishing line, and slinky booby traps (Goonies, and Indiana Jones were revelations for me, I wanted to skillfully evade and set booby traps as my career).
In a somewhat related anecdote, my Sister and I schemed to lay a booby trap for our unsuspecting Father. One time, many years ago, we stretched a land-line telephone cord until it was taut, across his bedroom door. We then hid in his closet but made a shitload of noise in order to draw him upstairs. After some trying, and several faux cries, he came up over the staircase like a madman, and tripped over our booby trap and fell onto the bed. We laughed like hyenas. Luckily, we were bastids, but not terrible bastids. After he composed himself, he punished us accordingly. I can’t help but think that despite his anger, that he held some pride for our mischief. You see, Dad was a mischief-maker from way back. I know how hard it is to not laugh at my children’s audacity, as I continually find myself wanting to laugh at the things they do, when the situation requires a more adult response.
If you liked what was behind today’s door…perhaps you’d be interested in what’s behind Day 9’s door. Take a peek here 🙂