One of the most memorable Easter baskets was the one I got when I was eight years old. It had all my favorite candy and a book.
It was no ordinary book, though. It was sleek and shiny, smooth and soft, black leather book. Across the front, in gold metallic lettering, it said Autographs. The pages were a rich goldenrod parchment paper with gold leaf edging. It was fantastic, and it was mine.
I held the book in my hands carefully as though it were a Faberge Egg. I gazed at it with a gleam in my eyes and a flame growing in my chest. Oh, the possibilities!
I could not put my sticker collection in the book. That was too babyfied and this is a grown up's book.
I could not write my stories in the book either. My handwriting was less than elegant, and this book commanded top-notched penmanship.
It occurred to me that there was already a title on this book: Autographs. Not knowing what this meant, I did what most eight- year- olds do; I asked my mom.
She explained it as such:
It was an amazing concept to me, and I rushed off to my room to write out a list of all the people I would get autographs from.
A few hours later, I busted into the house with a smile as big as Texas and overwhelming excitement.
Mom looked quite puzzled...So, I explained what I did.
I handed her the book.
This one is Officer O'Riley. He's Nicholas' dad, and he's a cop! Nicholas told me that his dad helped find the little girl who was snatched from the park on Pinchback Road.
This one is Mr. Gadde. That's Vagia's dad. He has some weird first name (they were from India), but I can't say it. Anyway, he's a baby doctor. Vagia said he once delivered SIX babies in one day!
This one is Porchia's mom, Mrs.Tut. She is a teacher at our school. I want to be a teacher just like her some day. Most teachers have really wide hinies, but she doesn't. I think that means she is a nice teacher. I think teachers who sit at their desks and yell at the students all day get those large hinies.
Nina's dad wrote on this page. I can't say his name either, it's weird too (they were from Iran). I just call him Mr. Shasta. He must be an expert fisherman, because when he was practicing casting with his new rod and reel, he hooked Nina's little brother on his left nostril. The hook went all the way through! There was blood everywhere, but he didn't even go to the hospital. Mr. Shasta just got some pliers and got that hook out himself!
This one is Keithie's dad. He is really nice. He always lets us play in his VW van. The only thing is that we never play for long because Keithie always wants to play Star Wars. That would be cool if he didn't always have to be Chewbacca, sitting over our shoulders making Chewbacca noises the whole time.
At this point my mom stopped me.
I defended myself to let her know I did not break the rules.
She smiled at me and asked,
I was so excited when I replied,
Then, she closed the book and said,
My heart sank in my chest. I had contaminated my sacred book with scribblings of ordinary people. I should have known that such magnificent paper was meant for movie stars, rock stars, and famous athletes.
I put the book on my dresser, where it gathered dust and eventually got thrown away.
Looking back now, I can remember going to each person's house, ringing the doorbell, smiling, and asking, "Can I have your autograph?" Each one grinned kindly at me, each one wrote something nice in my book, and I think I made each one of those people feel special.
To me, an eight-year-old, they were the ones I admired. It's kind of funny that it never occurred to me that the people who signed my Autographs book had to be famous.
I wish I still had that book...
