Memoirs? Who me?

At a recent writers' meeting, we talked about writing memoirs. Not only talked about them, we were instructed on how to - and then encouraged to go forth and write.

We were told a memoir is about a certain time frame or a certain event in one's life. But all I could think was, "Who wants to read about my life?"

So, I flung the wheels of my brain into motion to try and remember some details of my life that might be of interest to someone - anyone. I thought of some deep, dark secrets. But I'm not sure Grandmas should tell such stuff.

Then, I began to see if I could come up with some interesting, little known facts about myself that some might find interesting, like: I won't drink water or tea with a straw because if it comes up a straw, it should be carbonated. So don't serve me ice water with a straw. End of that memoir.

But let's go back to the time period concept. How about the time period of this cute little girl:

Yep - the girl on the right with the perfect curls that came from sleeping overnight on prickly curlers evolved into the awkward teen with the same kind of curls, just lifted a little higher on her head. And that's her brother. Aren't we precious?






So, when I was red-velvet-dress-with-huge-lace-collar-girl, one of my favorite pasttimes was opening this:

and pulling out this....

Check out the teeth on that wolf! And look at him tied to the pole, tongue hanging out, like he's heading to a rotisserie pit. I distinctly remember listening to this 33-1/3 rpm and being scared to death! The voice was booming, intimidating, and frightening - and this was DISNEY!

Never fear though, I outgrew the scary stuff and moved on to:

Oh yeah - that's what I'm talkin' about - the Carpenters and Cher. Those two artists have probably never had their names in the same sentence before now - but in my 45 rmp collection I had both of these songs memorized word for word:  Hurting Each Other and Gypsys, Tramps, and Thieves.

The same little girl who listened to the chilling voice of Peter and the Wolf evolved into classier music like Gypsys, Tramps and Thieves. What was my mother thinking? But, probably can't blame her. If she'd forbidden me to listen to certain music, I'm sure I would have rebelled and, to this day, still be traveling around the USA in my 1973 VW minibus, trying to find myself and singing Gypsys, Tramps and Thieves and Stayin' Alive.

So there you have it - a small snapshot of me. It just dawned on me: we didn't talk at our writers' meeting how to end a memoir. I think something as fancy-sounding as memoir, should end in a likewise fancy word. So....au revoir.