Among my earliest recollections of childhood was kindergarten at Evergreen School in Plainfield, New Jersey. I vividly recall “nap time” in the afternoon, the teacher summoning us to fetch our small nap rugs from our “cubbyhole” where our school supplies were properly stored. The venetian blinds were closed and the lights were dimmed. We all drifted off – dreaming of whatever kinder-kids of that age dream about. An ice cream cone, perhaps. Naps were good. I eschewed them for the next 60 years or so. But nowadays, I find them once again pleasurable. Almost necessary. Curiously, I still dream about ice cream. Haagen Dazs. Vanilla Swiss Almond – with a splash of Kahlua that I keep in the cubbyhole where our liquor supplies are properly stored. But I digress.
I recall playing “Musical Chairs”. We’d all circle around a group of chairs with one less chair than there were children. Cheerful, lively music was played as we all shuffled apprehensively around those little chairs. You sure didn’t want to be caught behind them when the music ceased – so every lap to the front was a brief relief. But when the music suddenly did stop, we’d all scramble to plant ourselves on an empty chair. Whoever didn’t find a chair fast enough, was eliminated. He or she was the – gasp – “the loser”. Excellent social interaction whereby success was contingent upon your ability to move your ass. Paradoxically, the “winners” were those sitting on their asses. Regardless, another chair was removed, and the game continued until there’s just one chair and two children vying for it.
I loathed musical chairs. I’d often feign a tummy ache or a headache to avoid having to play. If I were forced to participate, I’d make sure I was eliminated early – so as to be able to access crayons from my cubbyhole. “coloring” was a creative activity that portended my penchant for art and design, come the first grade and forever thereafter. I’m a long way away from kindergarten, but managed to spend my life “coloring” as evident within this website. If you read the “Our Reunion” link, you’ll certainly imagine that a memoir might have been a logical step after that reunion and the myriad of good fortune that fell upon me in wake of it.
A few years ago, I spent a summer manning a Maine Travel Information counter. The job was to chat up Maine and dispense directions to Bar Harbor. Now and then, I’d be asked, “So Buddy – how did you wind up in Maine?” I’d tell them the story in S,M, L, And XL depending on how much time they had to kill. I recall one Saturday morning when a lady from Texas listen d to the XL version, smiled, and looked me straight in the eye and said: “Now THAT needs to be a book!” Thank yuh kindly ma”am. Because now – it is!
To read Musical Chairs in its entirety – contact me.
2026