The Top 5 Days of My Life

These are some days I’ll always remember, jumping-up-and-down happy days. I’ve listed them in chronological order.

17 September 1969: I hit a grand slam, playing “batball” on the playground at Hazelwood Elementary School. Batball has the same rules as baseball, only there’s no pitcher and you hit an inflated rubber ball with your fist. This was huge. In elementary school, I was the fat kid. I’m sure those of you who grew up, like me, in ancient times, remember the fat kid. Don’t you? These days, thanks to fast food and video games, about half the prepubescent population is overweight. Not so in 1969. Anyway, I was slow and not athletic at all, the last person to be picked for teams (right behind the skinny little redhead boy with glasses and arms like toothpicks). But, the day I hit the grand slam, I was a star. All the kids on my team were cheering. They loved me. For one breezy September afternoon in 4th grade, anyway.

10 November 1976: I got my driver’s license. This is a big event in any teenager’s life, but in mine it was momentous. I grew up with my grandparents, neither of whom drove a car. Getting my license was a whole new level of freedom. I could go places. I could play my 8-tracks loud as I wanted. I could make out with my girlfriend in the park. It was a grand adventure, being able to drive.

26 February 1983: Eric Clapton had a song out called “Rock and Roll Heart,” and he was coming to town for a concert. One of the local radio stations sponsored a contest to win a Fender Stratocaster, signed by the legendary guitarist himself. You had to write, in 25 words or less, why you have a rock and roll heart. I hadn’t planned on entering. On the morning of the deadline, the day of the concert (I already had tickets and was going with some friends), I lay in the bathtub and composed this: Cupid’s rock and roll dart, sounded, pounded, found my heart. The sound was Clapton’s claim to fame--heartbeat and rock beat, one and the same. I rushed to the music store where the entries were being collected, made it there just a few minutes before the 2:00PM deadline. Later that afternoon, drinking some pre-concert beers at my friend Dave’s house, the radio station called. Perhaps there’s still a tape, in a dusty archive room somewhere, of me shattering the DJ’s eardrums with howls of joy. I won the guitar, and I still have it twenty-four years later.

30 July 1992: My son was born. He is--and always will be--the best thing that ever happened to me. I witnessed his birth, and I had tears in my eyes. He’s 14 now, a fine young man, but it seems only yesterday I was rocking him to sleep. He still gives me a hug and says “I love you” before going to bed each night. It’s difficult to comprehend, before you are one, what it’s like to be a parent. There’s no way to describe that kind of love.

7 March 2007: I’ve already emailed a bunch of you regulars, so you know what’s coming. I fell asleep last Wednesday afternoon, and when I woke up there was a message on my phone. Area code 212. New York City. I played the message a couple of times, thinking I still might be dreaming. It was real, and my hands trembled as I called back. Mr. Jay Poynor, literary agent extraordinaire, put me on hold for a few seconds while he said goodbye to a client. When he clicked back on, he told me how much he loved my novel. He wanted to represent me, and a contract would soon be in the mail. I know I probably sounded like a moron. I don’t remember what I said, but I can’t imagine it was anything very intelligent. Electricity was flowing through my veins, and when I got off the phone I started doing the Snoopy dance (appropriate, since Jay used to work with Peanuts creator Charles Schultz). Dig: Jay was the first agent I queried, my top choice. He called me the same day he received the manuscript. A referral from my sweet angel was the catalyst, but this just doesn’t happen. Not in a writer’s wildest dreams. Can you even imagine my level of excitement? A week later, it still doesn’t seem real. I guess it is real, though, since I received the contract in the mail yesterday and mailed it back, signed, to New York today. I guess it is real. I have an agent. I have an agent!!! The Call. One of the top 5 days of my life. When I get a book deal, I’m afraid that grand slam in 4th grade will have to drop a notch.

Okay, hate to do it to you guys (not really), but I tag Erica, Lainey, Aaron, and Kathy. Let’s hear about your top 5 days. If you choose to play, tag four more of your contacts. Let’s party!