After last night I decided to take a peek back to see how many days in a row I have posted and found that I’ve reached 34 days in a row. By my rules I can now take a break and I find that I’m not in a breaking mood.
Sunday morning is a pretty good time to write for me. As long as I’m up early enough. I won’t have to get ready for church for at least another 45 minutes.
I haven’t written a lot about my “inner workings” here, but I’ve decided to take a chance.
I’m remembering some stuff.
When my family moved to Valley Center from Encinitas 36 years ago I was not happy with the decision. Even before we left. I remember not playing little league baseball that year and someone pointed out that the baseball year would end right before we left. I didn’t care. I just hoped no one would stop and think about my decision and point that out.
My dad (and mom?) had made the decision to move and we kids hadn’t even seen the house. In fact, my little sister and I were to go on vacation with my mom back to Illinois and when we came home we would arrive at the new house. Looking back I’m not sure how many families were making those kinds of decisions together as if they were the Brady Bunch. I honestly don’t know how many did that. But it strikes me even now as pretty unusual that we didn’t even get the see the house before we moved there. It’s not like it was across the country. It was about an hour away.
Back then that seemed like a long drive to a kid that age. I’m sure it was probably longer still for my little sister.
We were not consulted about our vote, though we made it clear that we didn’t want to move. At least I did. We were moving from a pretty cool place to out in the country. Not most kids idea of cool. We lived just a couple miles from the beach. I could ride my bike there if I wanted. My brother used to go surfing all the time. As I recall, he had surfing P.E. in high school.
Things didn’t get much better after we moved there. I didn’t like being so remote. I didn’t fully appreciate the land we had. I wouldn’t fully appreciate until after I had moved from there.
What I was thinking of that had me start writing this today was dealing with competition as I got into high school.
In 9th grade I was in journalism class and I enjoyed that for the most part. We went to a journalism convention in San Diego in the spring and that’s when Star wars was playing. Yes, the first one! It had been playing for a while and I finally got to see it and we all thought it was amazing. THAT was fun.
In 10th grade I was in what was called MGM block. I was finally in a class with all advanced students. I wouldn’t find out until later that my mom had fought to get me in there. I don’t remember now if I heard this from her years later or someone else. I kind of think it must have been her, but the years make it foggy.
I had excelled in elementary school and pretty much kept nearly straight A’s in 7th and 8th grade. I remember 8th grade graduation seemed so strange to me. I thought what’s the big deal? It’s 8th grade. In my mind you needed to graduate at least from high school to be accomplishing anything. Little did I know that four years later I would be taking a test to finish high school and my mom would be saddened that I wasn’t going through the ceremony with the rest of my class.
When I got to 10th grade I found that I was not the big fish anymore. I was in a class with some truly excellent students, many of them with parents who had college degrees. My dad had gone to some night school, but he had been an engineer with a high school diploma and now my parents had a flower shop in Valley Center. My wife informs me that I need to take a shower now because our son is going to church with us.
To be continued?