Saturday, March 22, 2008

Monday Memoirs: The Early Years - I hear I was just a kid

My oldest sister is writing her memoirs and she isn’t even dead yet.

Is that legal?

I’m told it is. Especially if you’re just an average person and don’t have someone following you around town, scribbling notes about your activities or speaking quietly into a tiny tape recorder whenever you do something significant (e.g. “he’s pouring his morning coffee”; “he just added milk and brown sugar, thinking it's healthier than white, which it isn't”; “for Pete's sake, he just poured orange juice onto his cereal again”).


My sister recently said I should write my own memoirs too. She thought I’d have fun recalling long-past events and memories of myself and others.

I thought, she must think I'm average!

Shortly thereafter, however, I realized I am as average as the next guy, maybe even averager, and no one else is going to write a fat volume about my so-called life once I’ve kicked the bucket or slipped through the immortal veil or tripped over the mortal coil or simply skipped the light fandango (whatever that is).

Though I call this new project ‘Monday Memoirs’ I started today because I’m travelling to my oldest sister’s home tomorrow and won’t be home ‘til Tuesday.

She said she wants to tell me about the time she was three and a half.

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