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    « Five Things I Miss About Childhood | Main | Right Place, Right Time ... »

    June 22, 2005


    suburban misfit

    That was beautiful.

    Mine looks like crap in comparison.


    Oh you. arrrghh. This will take me 6 months to do. :)
    I love your mom's idea for Christmas presents. And I love the way you decribed it! A very old friend of our family has been doing the same thing with her mother's old pictures, many of which are in black and white. I think I'll get my mom to do the same thing.
    (she can blame it on you) :)
    Hope you taught Jimmy Wuckert a lesson that he still remembers to this day. If not, I hope he doesn't decide to hunt you down on the internet.

    I look forward to reading the other attempts at this one :)


    Chills, Nils. I got chills.

    That was just...lovely.


    Well. This is quite something. You made a meme into a poem. A beautiful poem. I can see the toy soldiers, the fly ball (but now it's gone), the Keds. Very fine writing. If your sibs got the formula, how different would theirs be? I wonder that.


    I so wish I could do one of these. I am so afraid of what it will uncover. I'm afraid of the feelings I might hurt.

    I loved yours. Very beautiful poetry.


    I love this poem meme. Yours is incredible. Nice job. Very poetic.

    Oh and I love Nazi/Navaho/Confederate hordes.


    Suburban Misfit: yours does NOT look like crap in comparison. Yours is lovely and people ought to go read it. And in any event, these are poetry; comparative judgements are not valid in any way. I like what I wrote, or I wouldn't have hit "Publish". I love what you wrote, and what Susie wrote ... and Torrie, and Bucky, and Squirl and others.

    Laura: I don't care how long it takes you, I'd love to read yours. As for Jimmy Wuckert ... it was my brother, not me, who taught him the lesson, because we became friends in later years.

    Thank you, LadyBug ... kind words. And speaking of poetry ... "Chills, Nils ..."

    Susie: I'm bemused by your surprise. Your version of this was every bit as poetic - in fact, every one I have read has been a life poem. I just played with the line breaks to make it LOOK more like a poem ... as for my sibs ... I'd be interested, too. I'll go out on a limb here and say we'll never find out.

    Kristine: do it ... just choose your options carefully. Like anybody, I had positive and negative experiences growing up. The hospital stay came from one end of the spectrum, but I also tended to remain positive throughout. You can do that, too, and quite honestly ... and not hurt anybody's feelings. I'd love it if you tried. I think you'd find it rewarding.

    And William: I also love the hordes, although in these politically correct times, it seems wrong to lump Navahos in with Nazis. Let's just say it was a function of less enlightened times ... and making both teams even.


    Thank You for writing.


    Just lovely. The toy soldiers line is my favorite.


    Oh, not surprised. Vocabulary escapes me, but something in the neighborhood of stirred, touched, moved. I find this format incredibly powerful for leading us to single words or phrases that represent large truths of our histories.

    Bucky Four-Eyes

    I've talked to a lot of people, and I include myself in this, who didn't really like their own "I am from..." but published anyway. I'm so glad everyone got over it and posted, because I really feel like I know a lot more about people from these.

    Yours is beautiful, funny, sad, and evocative. Set up a tin soldier for me.


    Only if I can have it back when you're done with it ...

    Bucky Four-Eyes

    Dude, I'm into rolling pins, not tin soldiers.

    Too much potential for rust, sharp edges, etc. with the soldier. Even if he is on weekend pass, I just cain't do it.

    Home Detention Lady

    That's probably the best one I've read. Mine is under my "Favorite Posts".....I did it awhile ago. Yours totally shows mine up, though. That's for damn sure.


    Kind thoughts indeed. But in the immortal words of David Letterman: "Remember, kids, this is an exhibition, not a competition. As always, please ... no wagering."



    Will go to ... "I am," as "I am from" is to scary right now.

    I am the wind,
    the sparkle in the blond boys' eyes.
    I am the moose in the wilderness come too close to town, chewing and thinking, watching the younglings in the reeds, afraid to let them go.

    I am the pickle, the sour to those too sweet. I climb the stairs to pickledom in the vinegar of New Zealand apples and the oranges of real trees.

    I am the earth with her plump, twisted sense of humer. Giving and taking and giving again.

    I am the silence in the window of your mind. The hidden shadow with a plesant surbrize.

    I am a rose, a dandilion, a cherry picked green garden thing grown in the weediest part of the garden but with some elegant strain still hanging on, barely visable.

    I am mother, heart-beat, daughter, heart-break, sister, heart-bent and lover heart-strong.



    I absolutely love this post. I looked at the format because I would like to do it, but I don't think mine will be anywhere near as good as yours. I may still give it a try though.


    That is the BEST "Where I'm From...." posts I have had the privilege to read.


    Very kind, Kenju ... thank you.


    Wow. Lovely job you did with this. It was so nice to read an I AM from someone with a little more life behind them, rich and varied.

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