Today my dream has finally come true. Thirtysome years I've waited ... and I finally feel complete. Let me explain ...
My brother is eleven years older than me. So ... when I was six in 1975, he was seventeen. Now, as I'm sure you remember, 1975 was the golden years of the Partridge Family, David Cassidy, and his bitchin pooka shell necklace.
My brother, being the stud that he was, had an identical necklace that he wore when we went to the skating rink, or to the mall ... or basically anywhere else there was even the smallest chance he could score. And when it wasn't around his neck, it would hang on his dresser like some 70's beacon of coolness. I loved that necklace.
So, in October or November of 1975, he got kicked out of our house ... for stealing, lying, and doing amounts of drugs that would've made Keith Richards proud.
I woke up when it happened. It was about 1 a.m. and I laid in bed for hours listening as they a) found grandma's stolen wallet and a sizable stash in his car, b) debated on what to do about it, and finally c) woke him up and kicked him out. I fell back asleep as they took turns calling relatives warning them not to let him in because he'd rob them blind.
Now, here's the proof that I'm a horrible human being. I woke up the next morning ... not worrying about where my brother was ... or what he was doing. Did he have anything to eat? Was he cold? Oh no. I had one thought in mind. That necklace.
I ran down the basement steps and into the dungeon he called a bedroom. It had to be there. My six year-old mind was convinced my parents would inflict the ultimate punishment by making him leave that necklace behind.
The dresser was empty. I was crushed. He took the necklace ... and with it my dreams of unimaginable popularity and coolness.
And now ... thirty years later ... I have my very own set of bitchin pooka shells. The mother of a friend of mine here at work mailed me a pair up from Texas. She made my day ... and, quite possibly, saved me money on future therapy sessions in the process.
In the world that I grew up in
Farrah Fawcett hair-do days
Bellbottoms and 8-track tapes
Looking back now, I can see me
Oh man, did I look cheesy
I wouldn't trade those days for nothin'
Oh it was 1970 somethin'
Mark Wills - Nineteen Somethin'