I’ll wear tiaras and boas
And bunny ears
And bring you my toys
To dry your tears
I’ll take you for walks
Have heart to heart talks
And be your best friend
For a million years.
Thanks for stopping by
I like Throwback Thursdays, I get to see where my friends came from, how they were, and how they turned out. I find it fun and heartwarming.
This is me at twenty three. It might have even been my birthday I can’t remember now. Yes, I looked young and I was and still am 4′ 11″ so of course that made me look younger still.
I must say that I was surprised to elicit the same condescending, mean spirited reaction from this picture after all these years that I used to consistently get then for looking so young.
I find it unpleasantly fascinating. The life that I have lived, everything I have done and accomplished didn’t count only that I did not fit in with the norm, and just like back then I had to be put into my place in the who do you think you are line.
It makes me still wonder what compels people to say, to actually say insulting, character damaging things, think them all you want, gossip to your friends who cares, but why say them? I can feel your intention.
I was going to let it go as I always have, and stay bugged about it, but hell I’m 62 now and I’ve put up with this crap all my life. I’m through trying to understand. Why does my looking young bother you so much? How dumb.
So from now on I’m going to say, who do you think you are talking to me like that!
Yep, it’s me at twenty-three on the front porch of my little house in Carlsbad, the house behind a house with the secret driveway.
It was the beginning of Burrito Sunday. My mom came down from Fullerton every Sunday with a grocery bag of goodies, we made burritos and then she helped me stuff the Raggedy Ann dolls I made all week on my old Singer treadle machine. We sold them at the Flea Market in Leucadia.
The sky was blue, the breeze was soft and the world was full of possibilities.
Yeah, it’s me. Firstly sorry I’ve been away, super busy and waves of not much to say. Not sure why this picture popped into my mind today. I’ve had the ping pong 5-in-one flu since Saturday. It has attacked me from every direction and has been a most unpleasant adventure. Today when I got up I felt okay but no voice.
Back when Dan Fouts was with the Chargers I was a sign painter’s assistant at Sea World San Diego Graphic Arts Center by the Sports Arena with the Pink Pussycat on the corner. This was my favorite job ever despite the look on my face here. I can’t remember now all that time ago if I painted the banner in the dark cold hallway or they had me pretend for the picture, yeah those circles are messy, it was me.
That was me when I was Pam Posey in my favorite Orlon sweater and my not favorite giant glasses at twenty nine, but now it looks to me like I was twelve. It’s where I got to see first hand the other side of men, not the controlling boyfriend side or stern step fatherly side, but how they are with each other, the comradery side. I’d never seen that before. It was like being a mascot to a secret society. They were professionals, sign painters with the highest skills. They worked hard, they bantered, they had sword fights with yardsticks, they taught me how to throw an x-acto knife underhanded have it do a loop and hit the Shamu logo on the trashcan right in the eye. I can still do it too.
They were kind and generous and protective. I enjoyed just about every moment working with them. They changed my perspective. Thanks guys, especially you Don Wilson where ever you are, I hold you in my highest regard.
Thanks for stopping by! Hope you’re all keeping away from the fricking flu bug.