The Sunday Memory Drawer - The Very First Sunday Memory Drawer

Well, they had to start some time.   During this, my tenth anniversary week of my blog, I thought it would be fitting to look back at the very first time I did one of these Sunday Memory Drawers.   While those entries are certainly not up there in terms of page views (videos apparently rule), it's the Sunday pieces that earn me the nicest compliments.   People really appreciate the childhood retrospectives and can usually make comparisons of my past to their own.  

I recall how I started to do them and, frankly, this feature is only about nine years old.  The first year of the blog I did something completely different on the blog.  I would devise some list of favorites and we count down from # 25 to #1. I did my Top 25 Favorite Movies and then my Top 25 Favorite TV Shows.   I was stuck to what I could count down next.  

I had possibilities. My Top 25 Favorite Baseball Players or Games?  That was limiting and ultimately boring for a lot of readers.  Baseball tales also garner the least page views here.  My Top 25 Favorite Songs? My head would have exploded given that I can remember many a melody but nary a song title. I could go on and on and let it get sillier by the day.

Perhaps I could have done a list of My Top 25 Favorite Friends. Okay, I envisioned some problems there, especially when you're all surprised to see myself listed at #1.

I thought about what I enjoyed most about the two lists just completed. It was the memory bank that always seemed to be attached to the viewing of a film or the weekly watching of a TV show. That, for me as a writer, was the gold mined each and every week.

So, there I was with my new Sunday feature. Every week, I would take a look at my memory drawer. Something from the past that resonates with me and hopefully does the same for you. It could be something that happened when I was a kid or something that happened last week. I remember Sunday afternoons would often find me stretched out on my grandmother's couch while she rambled on about something that happened 30 years ago. 

Almost 470 Sunday Memory Drawers later, I am still reminiscing.  And today I take you back to that very first Sunday.   When my mind had wandered back to...my grandmother's kitchen pantry.

This room was a full-out treasure chest for me. Situated right off her kitchen, it was a full-sized room that had a counter where I could do homework. And there were shelves all the way up to the ceiling. Lots of places for me to hide whatever toy figurines or soldiers I was occupied with at the time. One side would hide behind the double boiler and the other would secrete themselves behind cans of Libby's vegetables. And I could hide myself in another corner and let it all play before me for hours and oodles of fun.

There were many other fringe benefits. My grandmother baked every single Saturday morning and there was usually some sort of cake or pie stored there. Pieces disappeared regularly. And, of course, her Poppin' Fresh cookie jar was always loaded with Jane Parker or Ann Page's finest chocolate chip cookies. Only the best that the local A and P had to offer. I still have that cookie jar here in LA and it's always filled. With chocolate chip cookies. The tribute that just keeps on giving.

One day, I noticed something else. My grandmother would go into the pantry, hop on a stepstool, and reach up to the very top shelf. Where apparently she was keeping some very special chocolate bars.

Hmmmm.

It didn't take many days after this discovery before I wanted to tap into this reserve myself. If my grandmother was hiding this candy, it must be damn good.

The stepstool still left me about three shelves too short for the reach. So, I essentially climbed gingerly from one shelf to another. The Wallendas had nothing on me, especially if there was a tasty treat at the end of the stunt. I got to that chocolate and munched. One piece and then another. And then another. She wouldn't miss a whole bar. I reasoned she probably had others stashed away all over the house.

And then it came. Or, in reality, there it went. About an hour later, I was sick to my stomach. And couldn't stop visiting a certain room in the house. Where I would be sitting and not standing. It was so bad that I missed two days of school and even was summoned to appear before the always feared pediatrician, Dr. Fiegoli. Nobody had any answers and I certainly didn't make the connection. Until my grandmother asked the question that begged for an answer...

"Who ate all my Ex-Lax?"

See you next Sunday.

Dinner last night:  Bacon cheeseburger at the Arclight Cafe.