Is it dumb that when Mike told me that Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson had both died today I got a little teary?
Well I did. I feel like part of my childhood is gone. I can't tell you how many days, hours, weeks, years, I spent playing "Charlie's Angels." First, with my best friend Jenny Roberts and her sister, Stephanie. We were seven and younger, and still later when I was in fourth grade with my neighbor, Amy. Jen and Steph and I would always argue over which Angel we got to be. Jenny always got to be Jill (Farrah) because she had blond hair, Steph would get to be Kelly (Jaclyn Smith), if she was playing with us, because she was older than me and could be the boss. I would get stuck being Sabrina, because that is how my hair was cut at the time AND I was tall and very skinny. In fourth grade my dad gave me a suede billfold type notebook with a magnetic clasp and I carried our cases in it as I hid behind rocks and dashed around our Ford LTD. It was pretty suspenseful. I also remember a time when mom sent Adam and me to bed without dinner and while she and my dad were watching a Charlie's Angels rerun I snuck into the kitchen right behind them and stole a can opener. I snuck back upstairs and we opened up cans of my dad's old Army rations Adam had stored in his room. I would always sneak down to the lower stairs and watch Charlie's Angels. I loved them.
And Michael- I know, he ended up being really creepy. But... there was a time when I adored Michael Jackson.
We wore our muscle shirts and acted out knife fights with plastic knives from our tea set while singing along to Beat It (by we I mean Meagan, Adam, and me). I remember the night I got the Thriller tape and my friend Heidi Eckhardt and I had a sleepover at my house and we listened to it and danced all over the couches until well into the night. I remember watching the video at her house, laying on my stomach, chin in my hands, on her living room floor. Most of all I remember my Michael Jackson poster that hung beside my bed. I kissed it goodnight every night for probably my entire fourth grade year. I did my school report on Michael Jackson. I remember doing dishes and pretending I was doing an interview, explaining how Michael and I could be married even though he was so much older than me.
Embarrassing memories, yes. But still, memories I have held dear for many years. Good bye childhood icons.
Well I did. I feel like part of my childhood is gone. I can't tell you how many days, hours, weeks, years, I spent playing "Charlie's Angels." First, with my best friend Jenny Roberts and her sister, Stephanie. We were seven and younger, and still later when I was in fourth grade with my neighbor, Amy. Jen and Steph and I would always argue over which Angel we got to be. Jenny always got to be Jill (Farrah) because she had blond hair, Steph would get to be Kelly (Jaclyn Smith), if she was playing with us, because she was older than me and could be the boss. I would get stuck being Sabrina, because that is how my hair was cut at the time AND I was tall and very skinny. In fourth grade my dad gave me a suede billfold type notebook with a magnetic clasp and I carried our cases in it as I hid behind rocks and dashed around our Ford LTD. It was pretty suspenseful. I also remember a time when mom sent Adam and me to bed without dinner and while she and my dad were watching a Charlie's Angels rerun I snuck into the kitchen right behind them and stole a can opener. I snuck back upstairs and we opened up cans of my dad's old Army rations Adam had stored in his room. I would always sneak down to the lower stairs and watch Charlie's Angels. I loved them.
And Michael- I know, he ended up being really creepy. But... there was a time when I adored Michael Jackson.
We wore our muscle shirts and acted out knife fights with plastic knives from our tea set while singing along to Beat It (by we I mean Meagan, Adam, and me). I remember the night I got the Thriller tape and my friend Heidi Eckhardt and I had a sleepover at my house and we listened to it and danced all over the couches until well into the night. I remember watching the video at her house, laying on my stomach, chin in my hands, on her living room floor. Most of all I remember my Michael Jackson poster that hung beside my bed. I kissed it goodnight every night for probably my entire fourth grade year. I did my school report on Michael Jackson. I remember doing dishes and pretending I was doing an interview, explaining how Michael and I could be married even though he was so much older than me.
Embarrassing memories, yes. But still, memories I have held dear for many years. Good bye childhood icons.
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