Well hello there.
(Blows dust off the monitor)
I see it's been a little while since I've darkened these doors. Every time I've remembered that, I've also simultaneously thought that I didn't have anything to write about, not anything that would interest anybody anyway. Today, I decided that was rubbish and decided that if you're bored reading this, you can just wander away, no harm, no foul, and to get over myself already. And so, a story.
We were riding along in the car and Sabrina started singing the theme song to Reading Rainbow. Considering the show was a staple of my childhood but cancelled before she was even born, I was shocked to hear the tune coming from my baby's mouth, so I asked her where she'd heard it. She said she'd watched it with her class. My mind immediately flashed back to many, many days gone by, and I started reminiscing.
When I was in junior high, there was a contest asking kids to write their best limerick involving pigs and they place they lived. The top three would be chosen, turned into cartoons, and shown on an episode of Reading Rainbow. My mom, ever the creative writer, had me enter. She helped me work out a little 5 liner about a pig from Dallas whose cowboy boots were a bit too small, and we sent it in. And it won. There, in the late 80s, alongside the illustrious Levar Burton, was my first television credit.
The Sabrina said, "I saw that."
Really? I gave her the hairy eyeball on that one. Why in the world would a teacher choose a 20-something year old episode of a long-cancelled (but still beloved in many circles), public television series? And how could it be THE ONE out of hundreds?
"There was also a story about Perfect the pig."
WHOA. The centerpiece of every episode of the Rainbow was a reading (duh) of a children's book that showcased the theme of the day. Pig theme = Perfect the Pig by Susan Jeschke. My parents gave me a copy when the show aired, to remember. (Also a copy of The Book of Pigericks, which inspired the contest.)
She really did see it. Less than a 1% chance.
I sent an e-mail to her teacher to tell her about the bizarre coincidence, and a little piece of me hopes she tells the class that that last pig poem was written by Sabrina's mom. It's my claim to fame, after all.