Firsts

Red Fox & The Fifth of Firsts

Jeanna GLeave a comment

Y-Guides, previously named Indian Princes and Princesses, is a program organized by the YMCA that aims to nurture mutual understanding, love, and respect within the father-daughter relationship. It was inspired by Native American culture and their practice of fathers raising and teaching their sons. The program began in the 1920s for fathers and sons, but incorporated father-daughter programs as the years went on.

My father and I participated for a year when I was in elementary school. He and I didn’t need this program to bond, because although he was out of the house before I woke up and returned home just in time for dinner Monday through Friday, he found many ways to bond with me on weekends. Even so, I’m happy we participated in this program together. Thinking back, it was probably my mom’s idea, considering she worked for the YMCA. And now that I’m a mom, I’m guessing her true motive was securing some alone time by getting us out of the house more often. But I digress…

When we joined the program we were told to give ourselves an Indian name. My mom used to have a red fox fur coat that I loved to pet, so I named myself Red Fox. That became funnier once I learned about the comedian Redd Foxx! My dad named himself Hollow Horn Eagle. His name had a lot more meaning as it was the name his grandfather was given from the Oglala Sioux Tribe as Honorary Chief.

The most memorable and culminating experience of the program was the camping trip at Camp Woodstock in Connecticut. We participated in relay races, egg tosses, and variety shows. My dad’s a fairly conservative guy, so I was slack-jawed when he and the other dads pulled their shirts up to cover their heads and reveal that they had painted faces on their bellies. Then they performed a bellydance by rolling them along to music so it seemed as though their bellies were singing. I still laugh knowing there is no way that was his idea, but I love that he went along with it anyway.

And as for the sixth of firsts, I caught my first fish on that trip. An 11” Rainbow Trout. I won first place for that fish, and I selected a new pole as my prize so my sister and I wouldn’t have to share anymore. My dad and I cleaned and deboned, and grilled and ate that fish together. I’ll never forget it.

These memories came rushing back about two weeks ago when my daughter caught her first fish. We were at a local farm for their fall festival, and fishing was one of the many activities we were able to participate in. She actually caught two and I caught one, but we threw them back. By her excitement and the look on her face, I’m sure she’ll always remember that moment, too, and I’m so happy I was able to share it with her.

The Second of Firsts – My First Concert

Jeanna GLeave a comment

My first concert was January 16, 1987 at the Hartford Civic Center. I was just shy of 8 years old. My family had gone to watch the Hartford Hawks play Canisius College, and after the basketball game, the court was removed, a stage was erected, and then Smokey Robinson graced us with his talents. How did I remember that date? I didn’t. You’d be amazed what you can find on the World Wide Web.

I’ve also been to a number of outdoor concerts with my parents. A lot of them were part of Cigna’s Sunset Sounds summer concert series in Bloomfield, CT. There were huge fields outlined with speakers and filled with picnickers listening and dancing to the music. We never sat too close to the stage, so I don’t remember much about who was performing, but I do remember walking close enough to see Crystal Gayle’s hair sweeping the floor one of those evenings.

My first concert without my parents was when I was in 8th grade. Two friends and I got dropped off at the Bushnell in Hartford to see the Black Crowes. It was awesome! Chris Robinson was wearing crushed green velvet bell-bottoms with a lace up crotch and a white shirt that is best described as something a pirate would wear. I remember wondering why people were burning incense during the show. It was another year or so before I realized that incense wasn’t what I was smelling.

The Bushnell is also where I saw my first Broadway musical. Cats was on one of its US tours in the 80s. I wasn’t actually supposed to go. Mom and two of my sisters had tickets to the show in May of 1987. They were heading in while my dad and I were supposed to go do something else together (I’m not sure what that was, but ice cream was probably involved). I think I had a look on my face that said something like, “Boy, I bet they’re going to have a lot of fun, and I think I would enjoy it, too,” because my dad promptly approached a scalper and bought two tickets for me and him. My mom and sisters had floor seats, while he and I sat in the front row of the balcony. It was magical and I’m grateful for my dad’s intuition. Fast forward to June 7, 2019, and my 7 year-old daughter and I are sitting in the front row of the balcony watching Cats at the Durham Performing Arts Center.

“I remember a time I knew what happiness was. Let the memory live again.”