Relative Something

My sister, Mary, commented that she likes when I write about my early years growing up in our fabulous family. I always feel a little unsure about writing my version of the past for an audience that includes others who were present at the time and enough older than me that they probably were able to form more dependable memories of the actual events.

I have an impression of our holiday gift giving involving a certain amount of shenanigans. I’m sure my siblings will be able to clarify, but I have a vague recollection of someone needing to follow a trail of yarn that had been fiendishly “spider-webbed” around the furnishings of the room, to get to the prize at the end. Maybe that was just a party game. We had a fair amount of those events, too.

There is one gift I remember in particular that I was fooled by, that went on to become one of my prized possessions. I’m guessing it was the Christmas of 1967, because November of that year is when the album, “Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn, & Jones Ltd.” was released by The Monkees.

That year I would have been 8-years-old. For a kid that age, the usual assumption is: the bigger the box, the better the present. Well, the length and width of this box were big enough to fit a record album, but it was deep enough to hold something much larger. It was thrilling. I unwrapped the present, removed the cover, and found nothing but tissue paper inside the box.

They had taped the album to the cover of the box. I think it was a little frustrating for me, but that was definitely diminished by the excellence of the gift. I don’t recall actually putting the album on the old hi-fi, but I remember studying the front and back cover of the album while listening to the songs, over and over.

I still have the 3rd cut on the second side memorized. It’s the lead-in to the song “Pleasant Valley Sunday” and it is titled, “Peter Percival Patterson’s Pet Pig Porky.”

Peter Percival Patterson’s pet pig Porky ate so much pie that do you know what he did? He popped.

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