Good morning star shine. The earth says hello! Okay, I'll stop quoting Willy Wonka, and just say that I'm glad to be back after some well deserved family time. On with Memoir Monday...
I've been told more than once, "You weren't like most kids." It's supposed to be a compliment, but now I wonder what most kid's lives were like. Did any of them have a magic garage? Mine was a typical two car, dry-walled, and cement garage under my bedroom that came to life at night when I closed my eyes.
The automatic door gave way to a thick, red velvet curtain that could be opened with a few tugs on the pulley. All common garage content melted into the walls to make room for the performance - under warm, golden lights cheerfully glowing upon the faces of my audience. They sat on padded folding chairs which were lined up the slope of the driveway.
One night I was a magician pulling rabbits out of a top hat. Another night, a baton twirling wonder. I think I was even a singer with a voice that reached into the very heart of every listener. Sometimes my friends performed - a comedian, an animal trainer like Jack Hanna, or a musician playing the trumpet.
We never failed to sell every seat in the house, and my over sized plastic pickle jar was stuffed full of money that I planned to use on a puppy, a trip to Lagoon, dance classes and a perm (so I could be like the cool girls), or a stack of books.
I wasn't bothered by the ordinary garage that returned every morning. It had its uses, too. There was that big pole right in the center, an excellent turn-around spot for when I roller-skated down the slope on weekends.
Did you have a magic room in your house?
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