My Real Memoir

It was the day my world got bigger. How? I signed my name. Seriously. Near the end of 2^nd grade, I signed my first work of art using an ancient form of lettering called “cursive.” Apparently c-sick, I initially signed as “Mithell.” But I quickly recovered and tucked a “c” in under the t’s big protective right arm. On the opposite side, I depicted a rather short Native American boy named ‘Hiawatha,’ as described by a rather tall poet named Longfellow (see what I did there?).

All of my previous artworks had been signed with printed letters (e.g. my ‘Firefighter,’ now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s “Boy Geniuses” gallery). Which makes my ‘Hiawatha’ (now a closely-guarded artifact at the Smithsonian Institution) virtually priceless.

Even More Significant…

…if possible, is this: In that primeval era before fingerprint scanners, handwritten signatures were considered security devices. Hence, no self-respecting librarian would loan you The Cat in the Hat without first checking your signature. So it was that our class took a field trip to the “Fabulous La Mirada Shopping Center.” And there, at our city’s official Library, we signed our names in cursive. Thus did we engage in the timed-honored tribal rite known as “Acquiring a Library Card.”

I was so excited I could scream! Having a library card meant that, for the first time in my life, I could leave our immediate neighborhood without one of those other security devices called an “adult.” I could navigate the tricky curves of a signature. Therefore, I was deemed ready to navigate the busy intersection of Rosecrans and (no, not Guildenstern, but) La Mirada Blvd.!

My World Instantly Got Bigger!

I could not only check out authentic, hardbound books with that wonderful pre-read-book smell, but I could also visit:

• Thrifty Drug Store, where I would use my hard-earned allowance to buy a “hand-packed” 5¢ scoop of Rocky Road, ride the coin-operated rocking horse, and make goofy recordings in the “Make Your Own 45!” booth with my buddy Jeff!
• J.J. Newberry’s, where I’d bought my “first girlfriend” an authentic ruby ring!
• La Mirada Music, where I would eventually buy my first 45s, classics like “The Monster Mash,” and anything by The Beatles.
• Burgermaster, where I would taste my first (terrible pre-fabricated) pizza, sell my first hand-painted Open/Closed sign, a picture of a ghoul both in and out of his coffin (which for some reason they never used).

So many milestones were passed, simply because I learned how to sign my name!