SOCIALIZING THE HEATHEN

Socializing the Heathen

In my Writing Your Memoirs group

I’ve been reading the 6,000 wd. chapter

Socializing the Heathen to the class. 

Last night, I remembered two old photos

that fit in here.

 That’s the way I like to

create a blog post.

Here’s the poem, constructed from

the book Chapter of the same name.

~ ~ ~

Socializing the Heathen

If there’s such a thing

as part tomboy, part romantic, 

then that’s what I’m turning out to be.

Every Christmas I can’t wait

to go next door to Lester’s house,

because he gets everything I want.

Pound-a-peg, which I practically wear out. 

Tinker Toys, Lincoln Logs, an Erector Set.

(Little Lester & Me c. 1946)

The Christmas Lester gets his B-B gun, 

I just about die to shoot it!

I never wanted anything so much in my life

except for a pair of cowboy boots

and a Flex-i-Racer,

neither of which I ever got.

Lester’s Daddy nails up a target

on the garage door

so I start being really nice 

to little Lester, so he’ll let me

load and shoot his B. B gun.

I even let him win at Chinese Checkers

and try hard not to be so bossy!

Like making him Sheriff once in a while, 

instead of always my Deputy.

Meanwhile, I continue to get presents

like a squinty-eyed Bi-Lo baby

wearing a long embroidered gown. 

Whatever can you do with a baby?

You can’t even pretend a baby can talk.

“Goo-Goo!” That’s all babies can say.

Not, “Stick ‘em up!!” 

stay tuned . . .