In my recent posts it’s been a lot about the past. Mostly they are about less pleasant memories. But for a change, here are some nice childhood memories.
The other night I couldn’t sleep, so I roamed by old boxes for my old phone. My friend D. and I (we were best friends at the time) used to love playing different roles and mostly recording it too.
We would record radio interviews. The radio station was called “Radio Blödmann”, so “Radio idiot”. I hosted an interview with D. as DJ Ötzi (an Austrian singer who makes annoying party-songs) or a french singer who thought she was extremely famous, but really nobody had ever heard of her or another time she was a peasant who couldn’t remember his kids’ names and somehow managed to make a living on his cheese shop, though he never earned anything.
We also used to make recordings at her grandparents’ house. There are two storylines I remember that were quite funny, though they made little sense. One was about an old, poor man who lived in a food cupboard (that was me) and would sell food for a living. I would walk through the room yelling: “Pineapple – in slices!”
D. would play a young woman who would take care of the old man, because she felt sorry for him. In the end she found a letter that told her that the old man was her father. It was a happy ending after all.
The second story I remember was a man (that would have been D.) who fell in love with
a woman. To impress her, he wanted to get roses, so he took some out of a garden, not knowing that he was taking them from the woman’s beloved rose garden. So in the end he somehow managed to impress with the flowers and they were a couple, but the woman was so sad, because somebody had destroyed her rose garden. The finishing line was: “I’m so happy!”
and the woman would make loud whining noises.
Of course I made up stories with my other friends too.
J. and I (we are still best friends) would pretend to be secret agents. We would use our jewelry boxes as disguised computers, we would throw plastic pearls on the floor and pretend they were explosives and eat chocolate because it enabled us to speak any language we liked – but mostly it was an excuse to eat chocolate. The effect only lasted for a few minutes, so we kept having to eat chocolate.
Another story I would come up with along with my friends that I grew up with because we were neighbours, was that of the four sisters who attempted to go on a worldwide trip by boat, but got shipwrecked and separated. Each of them ended up in a different place, thereby adapting to her environment. One would end up in the desert and learn to bend sand and earth, one would stay at sea and become a mermaid, one would learn to fly and one would be able to speak to animals after landing in the jungle. After a year they would meet again and discover they had all developed different ability. I can’t remember what happened after that. I don’t know if they went home or decided to stay in the wild.
So there are a few childhood memories worth remembering. We used to have such vivid imaginations. We would play for hours, just staying in our roles as witches, secret agents, criminals and supernatural beings. Oh and we used to play horse. The horse would be fed sugar cubes for doing tricks. I loved being the horse and I’ve never had a hole in my teeth, ever, even though my dentist would tell me off for not cleaning thoroughly enough. Apparently he was just a little over-sensitive.