ssǝɹddns ɹou ɹɐǝɟ ɹǝɥʇıǝu plnoʍ ʎʇǝıɔos ǝǝɹɟ ʎlnɹʇ ɐ ʇɐɥʇ ƃuıʇnɔolɯnɔɹıɔ suıɐʇuoɔ ǝʇıs sıɥʇ

Friday, January 22, 2010

Markie: Wowing readers since 1962

A few years ago, I was all agog when my then-3-year-old grandson, Gage Andrew, was quoted in a speech given by one of those American Rivers environmentalists in town to vehemently oppose Congressman Paul Kanjorski's proposed deflatable dam.

While out on the river some months earlier, Gage Andrew was asked what he thought of the Susquehanna River, since he was paddling the river for the very first time. (Okay, Kayak Dude and I were doing the paddling.) When queried about the river on that rain-soaked day, Gage panned his head from side to side, looked at the curious River Rat and said, "It's chocolate water."

Yesterday, my daughter Peace sent me yet another of those ancient news clippings she unearthed from the muddy crawl space of the Internet, the Google News Archives.

And when I excitedly read the story from the "kidnapping" days as they were called by my family, I almost blew a fuse to see that I, at three and a half years old, was quoted in this particular news piece.

Mrs. Cour said she plans to go to Pennsylvania with Mark to live at her parents house. During the course of yesterday's hearing the child, playing with a brightly colored plastic train, interrupted the conversation saying, "I want to go home. I want to go to grandma's house."

Wow! Quoted in the newspapers before I was old enough to attend kindergarten at Ferry School, Shelton, Connecticut? Name me another star-struck blogger who can make that claim with a straight face...first quoted in 1962.

See that? People have been reading what I've had to say since 1962.

Yes, I admit, that's a stretch.

Anyway, at first, I blabbed to Wifey, "Hey! I was quoted in the newspapers even earlier, even younger than Gage was." I was only three and a half, but Gage was...

Oh, that's right. He uttered those quoted words of his a week shy of his third birthday. Rats!

Never mind.

In retrospect, I guess I got what I wanted. I mean, after a few stops, stops in New York state, in Florida, in Maine and in Connecticut; I'm dug in here in Wilkes-Barre like an engorged tick but a few blocks away from where my grandma's house once stood.

I know I had spent some time with my father when we were on the lam from the cops. I know he sought custody of me. And so I'm left to assume that he was at least somewhat fond of me, and he probably treated me well.

But to stand between a toddler and his grandma?

I know he's a certified genius and all, a freaking rocket scientist, but...what was he thinking?

*Pic taken in St John's parking lot, Nord End

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