The first time one does or sees or experiences something can be quite memorable. I thought it would be fun to recall some of my memorable "firsts" when I was a child.
I have a vague memory of moving from our house on Heard Avenue in Augusta to a newly-built house in the suburbs. I was 5 years old and had never lived in a house with air conditioning. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. The new house didn't have good climbing trees and the builder had put white carpeting in the living room, but otherwise I liked that house. (I hated the living room because Mother knew with two active kids the carpet wouldn't stay white very long, and she was right. She made us take off our shoes before going in there.)
[Left, me on my bike in front of the new Augusta house.]
The first time I was aware that some people wore dentures was when I went into the dark storage room off the garage in Augusta and saw my great uncle's false teeth grinning at me. I screamed, thinking I was seeing a ghost. My great uncle had recently died. I well remember my 7 year old terror.
Sometime around 1970, in Augusta, I ate at an Arby's for the first time, with my family. Fast food places were unknown when I was small. There was one fast food place in Augusta, Kelly's hamburgers, and they made all the burgers the same. I didn't like ketchup and mustard so I was miserable there. When the Arby's opened up I was thrilled. I loved the tasty roast beef sandwiches with no hated condiments on them. I loved the crispy potato cakes. It was, for years, my favorite fast food.
[right, me and Bruce that first winter in Knoxville]
The first time I ever saw Tennessee, we were moving there. Dad had gotten a new job, and we moved from Augusta Georgia to Knoxville Tennessee. It was January 1971 and I was 8 years old. I was so disappointed when we pulled into our suburban neighborhood. It was nothing like I had expected. I had no reference for "Tennessee" except for The Beverly Hillbillies. I expected people who looked like Jed Clampett and Granny and Jethro to be outside wooden shacks. I expected shotguns and moonshine and ornery mules. I was stunned to see neat suburban houses and shrubbery, and no hillbillies whatsoever. Everyone at school wore shoes, and there were no outhouses. Still there was a bit of culture shock, as everyone told me I talked "funny."
I first saw snow in January 1971, in Knoxville. (I had never seen anything but flurries in Augusta.) We got a ton of snow that first winter in Knoxville. My brother and I went sledding and drank hot cocoa and had a blast. I decided even without any hillbillies to liven things up, Knoxville was okay.
The first time I ever saw a Mel Brooks movie was when Blazing Saddles came out in 1974. I was 11. Dad took me and my brother to the Drive In. Mom didn't want to go. We got popcorn, cokes, and candy -- everything Mom didn't want us to have, but Dad was far more easygoing about snacks. Dad thought we were seeing a regular western. He had no idea it was a comedy. The first really funny scene, the one around the campfire, made us laugh hysterically, and we spit out everything in our mouths. The car was a mess by the movie's end. I still think it's hysterically funny but it wouldn't be made today because it's so politically incorrect.
The first time I ever went to a wedding, I was in it. My mother's younger cousin Susan was getting married and she asked me to be the flower girl and for my brother to escort me down the aisle. I was 6 years old. [see image at right] I recall only one thing about the day. The reception was there at the church and there were cheese straws on the refreshment table. I ate most of them. My mother had to threaten to spank me to make me stop.
The second summer we were in Knoxville, Dad bought a used speedboat. I learned to water ski, and loved it. Dad was a good skier and he taught us well.By the time I was 9 years old I could slalom and do jumps and for a while I wanted to be a professional water skier...
The first time I went to Washington DC, I had never been to a really big city, except Atlanta where my grandparents lived. I was about 11. Mom and I walked everywhere in DC. One morning, we got in an elevator and there were Jewish men there, wearing yarmulkes. I had never seen one before. It looked like my Brownie beanie. I asked Mom about it, and she shushed me, mortified with embarrassment.
Skip ahead to my 17th birthday. I got my first taste of a margarita. My parents were entertaining a guy who worked for Dad, Larry. He was like a big brother to me. He made me a margarita and I drank the entire thing in one go. My parents were horrified. I drank part of another one and then found myself crawling across the floor trying to get to the lake. The hangover was epic.
I didn't drink a margarita again for many years. [just FYI, the drinking age then was 18]
So many firsts. The first time I held down a job I was 16 and worked as a clerk at the local newspaper.I thought I was hot stuff until my Dad made me open a savings account and put all my paychecks in there to save for college.
The first time I left home and moved into a college dorm I was 17. I cried myself to sleep, missing my parents and my dogs.
I will write about some more firsts one day soon. Nostalgia is fun, in these weird early days of 2021...
