You know Kerry Moonbeam?
As a little kid I was extremely sensitive about answering questions incorrectly, or saying something wrong. I hated the thought that people might laugh at me. I can remember at least three instances of refusing to answer a question or repeat an answer because I wasn’t sure I was right:
1. I was three or four years old. My older sister Jaki asked me what I thought the phrase “carry moonbeams home in a jar” meant, from the song "Swinging on a Star." We sang that a lot around the house, and it had always seemed obvious to me … it meant you carried some moonbeams home in a jar. But as soon as Jaki asked the question, I was convinced that I couldn’t be correct – if it were that simple, she wouldn’t be asking me. I refused to answer. Then I found out that when Jaki was little, she’d interpreted the line as “Kerry Moonbeam’s home in a jar” ... that a poor little man named Kerry Moonbeam had to stay home and live in a jar. And since I’d refused to answer when she asked, everyone declared – to my great disgust – that I must have thought the same thing.
2. Around the same age, I was playing at a friend’s house. Her mother had just finished working in the garden. One of the older neighbor girls, Andrea, asked me if I knew what manure was. “Cow poop,” I proclaimed. Andrea cracked up, and called her friend Chrissie over. She asked me the question again. I wasn’t having it, though – she’d laughed, so obviously I’d been wrong. I wouldn't repeat my answer.
3. I was five or six years old – my older sisters had Aerosmith’s “Dream On” in heavy rotation around the house and I’d learned all of the words to the song. I remember Jaki being very impressed that I could sing them all, and asking me what I thought it meant when Steven Tyler sang “Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away.” I’d never questioned what it meant, and was surprised into answering. “It means you die.” And she was even more impressed. So I guess that time wasn’t like the other times. Never mind.
I suppose this wasn’t restricted to answering questions. I’d also choreograph elaborate dance routines for my friends to popular songs (like "Step by Step" by the New Kids on the Block and "(I've Had) The Time of My Life " from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack) but I never participated when it came time to put the show on for our parents. That just seems like good sense. Although I do remember organizing a group of friends to recite Baby-Sitters Club monologues as characters (from the story when everyone goes to visit Stacy in New York City) and participating in that … on camera … so you can see that sometimes my judgment was woefully lacking.
1. I was three or four years old. My older sister Jaki asked me what I thought the phrase “carry moonbeams home in a jar” meant, from the song "Swinging on a Star." We sang that a lot around the house, and it had always seemed obvious to me … it meant you carried some moonbeams home in a jar. But as soon as Jaki asked the question, I was convinced that I couldn’t be correct – if it were that simple, she wouldn’t be asking me. I refused to answer. Then I found out that when Jaki was little, she’d interpreted the line as “Kerry Moonbeam’s home in a jar” ... that a poor little man named Kerry Moonbeam had to stay home and live in a jar. And since I’d refused to answer when she asked, everyone declared – to my great disgust – that I must have thought the same thing.
2. Around the same age, I was playing at a friend’s house. Her mother had just finished working in the garden. One of the older neighbor girls, Andrea, asked me if I knew what manure was. “Cow poop,” I proclaimed. Andrea cracked up, and called her friend Chrissie over. She asked me the question again. I wasn’t having it, though – she’d laughed, so obviously I’d been wrong. I wouldn't repeat my answer.
3. I was five or six years old – my older sisters had Aerosmith’s “Dream On” in heavy rotation around the house and I’d learned all of the words to the song. I remember Jaki being very impressed that I could sing them all, and asking me what I thought it meant when Steven Tyler sang “Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away.” I’d never questioned what it meant, and was surprised into answering. “It means you die.” And she was even more impressed. So I guess that time wasn’t like the other times. Never mind.
I suppose this wasn’t restricted to answering questions. I’d also choreograph elaborate dance routines for my friends to popular songs (like "Step by Step" by the New Kids on the Block and "(I've Had) The Time of My Life " from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack) but I never participated when it came time to put the show on for our parents. That just seems like good sense. Although I do remember organizing a group of friends to recite Baby-Sitters Club monologues as characters (from the story when everyone goes to visit Stacy in New York City) and participating in that … on camera … so you can see that sometimes my judgment was woefully lacking.
Labels: childhood
posted by BeeKay at 7:54 PM
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