You know how meal time conversations go. The other day, we sat at the lunch table with my father-in-law. One minute we were talking olives, are you partial to green or black. The next minute, the topic switched to “Kansas City.” Then, “Hey. Who sang that song?” And, suddenly we were on a kick about one-hit wonders from the 1950’s.
In the discussion with my father-in-law about “Kansas City” being a Chuck Berry song or a Wilbert Harrison hit (Harrison, by the way. My father-in-law knows best), I said I had a whole box of 45’s somewhere in the house, would he like to hear a few? His eyes lit up, so I set off on a mad hunt, searching in almost every closet and both attic spaces (twice), and digging through two small trunks that my kids like to call “treasure chests.” Everything in those trunks is old (though the word itself is relative…I’m “old” to my kids). I couldn’t find the records that day, but in my obsessive rummaging, I uncovered some other interesting artifacts of note.
Evidence of rumor.
I’ve mentioned before that I was a Lions Club member, a experience worthy of a story in itself. I wasn’t a Lioness, crocheting doilies with the wives in the back room. Oh no. I sat at the table up front, with the graybeards who eyed me up and wondered, like me, how the heck this skinny girl got a plate?
My first collection of short stories.
Stories: About Love, Life, and Luscious Red Hair, Copyright 1986.
With riveting titles such as “Secrecy — Unknown” and “Brought together by Bon-Bons,” plus prose like “he dreams of the day when her braces are de-banded,” I can’t imagine why this collection never made it to the presses.
The first Valentine from the man who would become my husband.
A seven word flash narrative revealing conflict and plot, from the simple opening of “Hey” to the final line: I Love you!”
The 45’s that brought on this whole search and find experience.
Now, I’ve got a date with my father-in-law.
What have you got hiding in your attic or your secret treasure chest?