Tuesday, May 27, 2014

One Magical Summer

When I was eleven, I asked my parents for some money to buy a mail-order book of magic tricks. Despite mental images of their son attempting to saw his siblings in half, they gave me an advance on my allowance. I suppose they thought I could use a hobby to keep me occupied over the summer. One can only imagine their dismay when a few weeks later they found me deeply engrossed in what was essentially Witchcraft for Dummies, Volume One.

A few days after trying out my first spell – for fortune – the credit union accidentally deposited sixteen thousand dollars into my Christmas Club. Recognizing an entirely unexpected talent in their second born, my folks shipped me off to spend the rest of my summer vacation with Crazy Jesus Aunt. Hogwarts this was not.

As gullible as I was at that age, Auntie's version of Christianity seemed a bit far-fetched and illogical to me. One part that sticks in my mind was her campfire story about the kids who, frightened by their first brief dalliance with the occult, tried to burn their Ouija board and perished in the flames. I'd earlier suspected the campfire was intended for my magic book, so at that point I was fairly certain the bitch was out to kill me. I think about it every time I taste a s'more.

But what I remember most about that summer was all the time I got to spend with my cousin, Dave. He had an amazing amount of body hair for a young man of fifteen. And something changed when I saw him naked. Forget about occult books and demon-possessed board games. That summer I caught my first glimpse a power growing inside me that was going to haunt my days and nights with fear and angst and longing and excitement for years, no, decades to come. It was the Best. Summer. Ever. Coincidentally, Dave is a fireman now. I often pray to Jesus for the safety of his fur.

I'm sure my muggle parents would have preferred if my magical experimentation had turned out more like this...

Ooof! Right in the IKEA.

This animated gif had me laughing harder and harder each time it looped. And thank goodness it loops. Like my twelfth summer, there are way too many layers of hilarious to appreciate the first time through.

Maybe it's all the home renovation projects, but the funniest part for me is the wallpaper.

And the duck painting. I'd sell my soul for that duck painting.



6 comments:

  1. No need to sell your soul .... a visit to the thrift store in Lilburn should do it.

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    1. Lilburn? I think I'll stay inside the perimeter. I've got my soul's resale value to consider.

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  2. Now that is a great story!

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  3. So, safe to say, like Olivander, that "the wands chooses you"!

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  4. Would you please make my abs reappear?

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    Replies
    1. I'm not licensed for that procedure. Beside, you look damn good without smoke and mirrors.

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