by The Urban Blabbermouth
I wanted to write a fictional memoir and it got away from me.
I was born in the Year of Kent State. I didn't know. I was watching a cable channel specializing in historical programs, in this case, newsworthy events from the 1970s. The Ohio National Guard shot 13 unarmed students protesting the Vietnam War on the Kent State University campus. Four students died. By the time I was aware of a bigger world than my own, Kent State passed into history.
My world, then, was the golden triangle - one leg from my home to my grade school, the base from the grade school to the candy store, and the return leg from the candy store to my home. I could wander about within the golden triangle as I pleased since this territory was ruled by parents. There were no gangs nor drug lords to challenge their supremacy. That would come later and would also pass me by.
I elbowed my wife sitting next to me on the sofa, "Honey, did you know that I was born in the Year of Kent State?"
I was watching a cable channel specializing in historical programs, in this case, newsworthy events from the 1970s. The Ohio National Guard shot thirteen unarmed students protesting the Vietnam War on the Kent State University campus. Four students died.
"What is that?" she asked as she lowered her Agatha Christie novel. I explained the story.
"Okaay, if you say so," she replied.
"We should look up what great news event happened in the year you were born," I said.
"Okaay," and she returned to her novel.
I went over to our bedroom, retrieved my laptop, returned to the sofa and started Googling great news events of the year 19...
Elbowing my wife, "Honey, did you know that you were born in the Year of the Watergate Break-in."
Lowering her novel, she frowned at me and said, "I don't like it. If you can't do better than that, then I am going to have to break your head in."
Smiling a fake smile at her. "Says here that the secret informant was someone named Deep Throat. Huh, so you were born in the Year of Deep Throat." My smile grew bigger.
"Forget it, not happening," and she stuck the tip of her tongue at me.
"You're turning out to be no fun in my old age. I'm going to have to send you back to your mother for retraining."
"My mother was right, I should have married a funny man."
In a huff, I said, "I will have you know, I am a very funny man."
Smiling her fake smile, she said, "Yes dear, if you say so. You are a very funny man."
I leaned over and kissed her on her cheek three times and said, "That's why I love you. You tell me my favorite lies."
Her face lit up with love shining from every cell. A smile so broad appeared that her eyes squinted, "Hmmm, Deep Throat you say..."