Holy moly! Looking back episode 1 & 2 were rough… I’m really happy about episode 3! This episode we get into the “Impossible Task” concept! First, I explore some of the roots I believe lead to this. Second, I offer some of my favorite tools and resources to check those tasks off your list. However, this episode will be a very surface and limited exploration. Fortunately, there is always more to learn! I love discovering ways to understand our own minds!
Episode resources (Click the Links)
One night my mom and I were in the Warehouse Video that used to be on 19th Avenue out in the Sunset. She was looking for something to rent, and I was immediately behind her looking at Jem videos in the kids’ section. I was trying to remember which ones I had already seen – you don’t want to rent the same one twice!
A few minutes later this man walked up – tall, quiet, nondescript. Without a word, he picked me up from the aisle, threw me over his shoulder, and took off toward the door. I was kicking him in the face and screaming. My mom screamed, which I think startled and confused the man because he lost some steam toward the front of the store. Today was not his day, I guess.
He snapped out of the stupor though and hauled ass out of the store, with me still kicking over his shoulder.
I don’t remember getting back to the store, or the SFPD arriving. I don’t remember much of the rest of that day after being picked up from the aisle. The view from 6 feet up is pretty wild when you’re used to only being three feet off the ground. Preschool was a wild era for me I guess.
I went to preschool at this Catholic Montessori out in the Sunset district of San Francisco. I tried desperately to look it up the other day but it does not seem to exist anymore. The one possible location I could find shows up on Google Maps as a massive construction zone. What lead me down this path of frantic searching, was a memory of a psychiatric evaluation ordered by the teachers at the Montessori school to maintain my enrollment. They had noted I should be evaluated for possible epilepsy or seizures, what exactly happened is not clear to me. My mother has simply forgotten, it seems.
I remember this evaluation was not in a medical facility, but in a large and daunting official building of some sort, with bold blue carpets and airport lounge seating. I sat in a play room behind glass while someone in an adjacent office took notes. I absolutely need to know what was in these notes, and the first key I could find would have been enrollment records from the school.
But I digress… This Montessori had a preschool age session, and a 3rd-4th grade split class session. Sometimes I would sneak in on the math portion of the split class and watch the students do long division. I fell madly in love with one of the 4th grade boys who had a really strange name. One afternoon before nap time, I made him this crown out of the perforated strips that tear off the sides of those old dot matrix printer sheets – you know, that have the holes punched every 1/4” to feed the paper through? One of the preschool teachers had to explain to me that a three year old and a 4th grader just simply could not get married at this time in life. The logistics would just not work. Sometimes love is so unfair.
My first real house after I was born was a red condo up in Concord. There was a brass “5” on the front porch beam. We had a deck and a yard but I remember the inside being fairly dark, blandly appointed and with brown low-shag carpet that was common to the era.
We only lived there for two years or so before moving to the Outer Sunset. My parents got divorced immediately after moving to Concord and the roommate thing wasn’t working out. My first vivid memory in this house was of sitting in a diaper, staring up at the TV. The “A View to A Kill” music video was on. From this room, the main hall and stairs were behind me. I looked back – My dad was at the top of the stairs and my mom was in the bottom of the stairwell. They were screaming at each other.
The endless fighting was a fairly regular occurrence so I’m not sure why this stood out more than any other day. So that is my first vivid memory of this house – I was sitting in a diaper wiggling along to Duran Duran. All you can do is wiggle, you know? At that age you’re still sort of a lump of child and more complex dance moves would just topple you over.