Wednesday, September 09, 2009
I was a weird kid who preferred sitting and writing things at my over sized desk, in the cool sanctity of our air-conditioned rentals, to playing outside. I avoided the outdoors so fervently as a child that I have never been stung by bee or wasp and still run to shelter with arms flailing and screams that rival anything Jamie Lee Curtis could ever muster at the sight of any bug. I was not only pale and prone to sunburn but a wheezing asthmatic little thing that was allergic to dust, dander, air and any furry creature that most children pet and roll about with.
As a result of my physical ailments and neurotic tendencies I fabricated my own version of reality that revolved around one way correspondence and watching TV while consuming copious amounts of salad. Most kids love cake and chocolate. I could not get enough leafy greens smothered in red wine vinaigrette. I even re-named one of my favorite shows, Solid Gold, to Salad Gold as a tribute to my favorite food. I imagined the scantly clad "Salad Gold" dancers doing a hot number while dressed up as giant pieces of lettuce and plump tomatoes. I fancied myself a clever, young thing and went as far as to penning a letter to SNL suggesting the "Salad Gold" skit but perhaps it went discarded after my strongly worded five page complaint regarding the cancellation of Different Strokes and the tyranny of it's time slot replacement the much despised, Mr. Belvedere.
I blame my mom for never developing a taste for chocolate. I was told that I was allergic to the wampum earned from a well thought out Halloween costume: Wonder Woman 1982 was my personal favorite. One fall day,when I was particularly peckish and whining from the back seat of my mom's banana yellow 1978 Buick Regal, I learned the truth!
In an effort to shut me up mom threw me a gooey, old Twix she had stashed in the glove compartment for sugar crash emergencies, the old broad was an unapologetic chocolate junkie. I cried out, "but mommy I am allergic" she replied, "no, you're not I just told you that so that you wouldn't eat my Andy's candies and Hershey’s Kisses" and just like that I realized that adults, much like the heads of NBC, could not be trusted.
Today, I am a clear skinned, cavity free adult who prefers lemons to Snickers and bar stools to park benches and am grateful for my sugar free rearing. I have yet to bring my "Salad Gold" comedic sketch to life and yes, I still use my inhaler and will forever raise my fists to the heavens screaming, "DAMN YOU MR. BELVEDERE!" for it was his sheer existence that caused the child stars of Different Strokes to embark upon such sad demise.
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