mnvnjnsn's Diary

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Once were athletes

For one brief, exciting moment, I was athletic. I played softball. I rode a 10-speed. I didn't get picked last in kickball. I could do a cherry drop off the high bars and pitch a perfect inning.

I won the Presidential Physical Fitness award when I was ten-- back when you had to meet a helluva lot more requirements than you do now: Side-step, pull-ups, push-ups, sit-ups, running (both speed and distance) and standing long-jump. None of this "V-sit" bullshit. My only regret is that I made the list in 1980, so my certificate was signed by Ronald Reagan. Ugh.

I mention this because we-- that is, my sisters and I-- are beginning to glean information from our mother about our father, who died in 1982. She sent us a stream-of-consciousness letter with random tidbits about how they met, where he went to school, and how much he wanted us to be star athletes (here's what we had to live up to: "[Your father] had been an honor student, football quarterback, basketball point guard, track shotput and relays and a swimming star as well as student body president in high school.").

All three of us have discussed how disappointed Dad must have been with us: K played a little softball but preferred reading; J was athletic up through Jr. High School but then focused on music instead. I was still skinny and playing softball, so I think to dad I may have been The Great Short Hope.

I can honestly say the only good thing about being only 12 when my father died was that he didn't live to see me become the potato I am today.

8:18 p.m. - 2005-07-21


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