If you drive along I-40 between Winslow and Holbrook, Arizona you will drive right by the town my Dad grew up in in. Well sort of. Actually after you pass that blink and you will miss it small town you have to drive another 5 miles until you see the exit for Hunt Road. Look out your right window and you will see where my Dad grew up.
It may not look like much, but that red dirt and tumbleweed stretch of earth is the playground of my youth. Even after living in "the Valley" for several years there was nothing like going to visit my grandparents on the ranch.
As a young girl my days on the ranch were spent making mud pies and selling them to Grandma. We played endless games of "Man from Snowy river" and countless hours playing at the old barn and outbuildings. We climbed the haystack several times a day and always tried to strand someone up there. We counted bottles of Sun detergent in the garbage pit and stood on fences admiring the cows, horses and the occasional bull Grandpa may have had. We would bother Grandpa in his milking barn (I'll never forget that smell) I think he secretly liked our company. If we were good we may earn a ride up to Geronimo with Grandpa to get his paper, or a trip into town (Holbrook) to shop at Safeway with Grandma. It was a child's paradise!
As a teenager the ranch still held a special place in my heart. Out there in the middle of nowhere you could still pretend and make a fool of yourself and there was no one to complain (except Grandpa). One summer I spent a few weeks up there with my cousins Kit and Celina. We still got Grandma to take us to Safeway to buy us treats. Kit also had started driving and drove us to Holbrook for who knows what. I don't remember anything that day but the three of us jammed in the front seat and noticing smoke come out the vents. The car was on fire! We pulled into a car wash and the firemen came. Okay, teenage girl + firemen = dream come true right? Wrong! Only in Holbrook will the firemen be old, gross, toothless men.
This same summer we spent time wandering around town taking pictures of cute boys. We may have also stalked my childhood crush Bubba (I am totally laughing as I type this) who was 8 years older than me and gainfully employed at the time. I have pictures to prove it.
Here's the kicker. That summer we spend endless... seriously endless... HOURS recording ourselves singing "Total Eclipse of the Heart". We took turns doing the guy/girl part. We would record and play it back, record again. and again. and again. (Kit still has the cassette to prove it)
Fast forward a few years when we were all at a family reunion. A reunion with karaoke. We decided to reunite for a special show and sing our number one hit once more. And as the words trailed along the screen we saw the line..."living in a powder keg and giving off sparks". And it suddenly dawned on us that as we sang over and over and over again "living in a polygag and giving off sparks" that our lyrics had made no sense. I mean, what is a polygag? And why does it spark? We found it very funny!
So Kit. here's to you! I know you will enjoy this:
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2 comments:
That is "effing" hilarious, to quote the term. Too funny!
I have a few more memories of that song...like every day on the way to school senior year!!!
It's a classic.
Oh, and when Trevor was born for some reason I started calling him Bubba. But I always thought about Bubba Hansen... now I call him Bobo.
Wow!! A post for me?? That is hilarious. We had some good times!
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