My mom is from a large Italian family, she is one of seven. When I was growing up, my mom and her brothers and sisters always took turns having family parties. We probably had birthday parties biweekly during some months. The routine for every party was pretty much the same, pot luck; adults hang out talk and eat and drink while kids run wild outside or in the basement.
Aunt Joan and Uncle Anthony had the most kids, five, and consequently, the most fun house. They had this awesome basement where we kids would go and play, literally, until someone was bleeding. I am not sure what year it was, but I was somewhere between the ages of four and six, when Aunt Joan and Uncle Anthony decided to host a movie party at their house to watch the Jaws premier on t.v. Of course, the kids weren't going to watch.
I was the kid that always sick at the worst times -when my class took field trips, holidays, and My Aunt and Uncle had their movie party. I don't remember how it was discovered that I was sick, all I remember was my mom taking me home and my dad staying at the party with my brothers. I was so damned disappointed, but not well enough to fight back.
Back at home, I, being sick, wanted to lay in my mom's bed. My mom, being trapped in a time without vcrs, tivo, or any other device on which to watch movies at her leisure, wanted to watch JAWS. Who knew when it would be on next? Never mind, that my little girl will never want to swim again. Less time, I' ll have to spend watching her at the pool, more time I again spend watching the soaps.
I don't remember much except that fin starting out in the distance, then coming closer, then blood and screaming. From that moment on, I was fascinated by sharks and the Jaws series, but also scared to death of my own swimming pool. My Dad would say, Laurie, how can a shark get into a swimming pool. I'd point to the filter. Even then I knew that it was ridiculous, but every time I jumped into the deep end or waded in the shallow end, or swam at night, which I almost absolutely never did. Rafts were out for me, also, and I still stick to the sand at the beach.
My other first movie memory involves the first time that I went to the movie theatre, or at least, the first time that I remember going to the movie theatre. My cousin, Luann, who incidentally is hearing impaired took me. I was probably about four and as skinny a string bean. Luann, not known for her love of kids, and I sat down in the darkness, preparing to watch the movie. I was a skinny as a string bean and made the mistake of sitting on feet so that I could see better. Of course, almost immediately I slipped into the back of the chair and caught my legs. Because was four, I didn't think, oh right, Luann can't hear me, so for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably tops five minutes, I sat there screaming and wondering why in the world Luann wouldn't help me out of the chair.
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