Li’l Miss Elton John

My X-mas robe is tied at the neck with a Bow Tie o’ the Day, of course. Here I am, at a pudgy 2 years old, with a toy piano from Santa. Although Elton John was not yet on the U.S. music scene at the time, I was surely channeling him in some parallel universe. By the time I was 10, I was dressing up in the most outlandish Elton-esque attire I could find, and lip-syncing and acting out Elton John songs for anyone who would stop to watch me pretend to sing and play a piano. I even had platform sneakers to wear for my renditions of “Pinball Wizard.” I also had my own pinball machine, so I could create the full effect.

We have tons of family pix with my four siblings doing things together—minus me, cuz I hadn’t been born yet. The five of us did actually do at least one thing as a complete five-some, sibling set. However, somehow the five of us were having so much fun doing the bigly thing together that nobody thought to snap a photo of the event. At least, I have never seen such a photo.

It was October of 1975, and all five of us went to the very first Elton John concert in Salt Lake City. Mercedes/BT, my Sister Who Wishes To Remain Nameless, and Ron brought their spouses along. Rob brought a girlfriend. My SWWTRN and my sister-in-law were both hugely, enormously, bigly pregnant. Watching them each “boogie for two” for the duration of the concert was a riot. I was 11 and took my trusty Bic pen and a notebook to the concert. I felt it was my duty to report every minute of the concert to my friends who were Elton John fans, but who weren’t attending the show—like Georgia Grayson and Penny Porter. My brother, Ron, saw me writing furiously once the concert started. He asked what I was doing. I explained, and I told him that part of my having a fab time at the concert included my scribbling notes about it for posterity. He laughed, but he didn’t bug me about it anymore. I still remember jotting down the fact that “Your Song” was Elton John’s opening number that night. It’s a terribly tender pop composition. It’s a pop classic.

What I Did To Celebrate The 24th

To celebrate Pioneer Day, I grabbed my red hankie Face Mask o’ the Day and paired it with my deer-and-birds-etched-into-wood Bow Tie o’ the Day. I trekked to Cabela’s. I dragged Suzanne with me to stare at the store’s stuffed bear up high in the fake tree, and to find a stuffed coyote to remind me of Dad. We have no bigly vacations scheduled for the near future, so Cabela’s seemed like a good enough choice as any for an afternoon getaway. There was plenty of hand sanitizer throughout the store, and most folks were wearing masks and social-distancing.

I have discovered a secret positive about mask-wearing. Since the wearin’ o’ the masks began, I have not had to deal with the bad breath of anyone who engages me in conversation. If the masks do nothing else (and they do plenty), their ability to keep other people’s stinky breath from attacking me is reason enough for me to almost wish we all had to wear masks forever. 😜