Archived Memories – Morning Boy
I’ve written about what it’s like to be a morning person in contrast to being a night person. At least, I think that’s what it was about. The latest memory to bubble up is all the time I spent as a kid in the hours before anyone else woke up. I have a significant chunk of time of my waking life where I was completely alone and at peace. For a little while, at least.
I was a cartoon watcher, as most Gen-X kids in the 70’s and 80’s were. Saturday was the motherlode of cartoons that lasted until eleven o’clock or so, but I thought back to the weekdays, or even the weekends before seven. Maybe six o’clock. I have always been a frightfully light sleeper. Anything can wake me up and it takes forever for me to get back to sleep. The situation has improved over the years, even though I still am the first up no matter where the hell I am.
Between six and seven were the ancient cartoons and reruns for shows everyone stopped caring about, like Gilligan’s Island. I remember Spider-Man coming on in that hour, and a lot of the early Japanese animation shows, like Battle of the Planets and Voltron. The shows were usually shitty, but I rarely paid that much attention because until I was about eleven years old, I sat into front of a giant pile of Legos and built stuff all morning.
I had an old carboard box with mixed sets from years past. I don’t ever remember buying Legos, they were just the jumbled mass of cast-offs from whatever sets I got for Christmas in 1979. Also buried in there were long-forgotten Star Wars figures, loose change, and cheap toys from cereal boxes that never panned out. I built stuff, kept it for a bit, destroyed and started all over. Nothing matched. I remember having a lot of blue pieces…
When these memories rise to the surface it feels as if they were from a secondary childhood. There was the one in my house with all the people going about their business, and the one early in the morning where I had the TV to myself and I could watch the orange-colored sun break through the living room shades and disappear behind the trees. I was two different kids. I wonder which one I am now?
We lived with my grandmother twice when I was little and she was also a morning person. Maybe that was her disposition or maybe she was trained because of Catholic mass, but she was always up a little bit before me. I made a game of it. I don’t think I ever won. I remember her cup and saucer of coffee and listening to me ramble about trivia or a dream that I had. That never would have happened if I slept in.
Not once did I ever think about getting back in bed or trying to get more sleep. Because, dear reader, my life as the world’s most boring person also meant that I didn’t like staying up late either. Even as a teen or when I had a car. That never was my scene and all the best fun happens out in the world when the streetlights are on. Me? I’m home in bed snoring away. Even when I did stay up late, I got up at my normal time the next day.
Do I think I’m missing out if I sleep in?
I was up with the kids when they were little. They’re almost all gone, but I’m still up to brew coffee. Sometimes, I sneak away and get a little writing done. Or, I just sit in the dark and let the world come to life around me. You can hear geese in the distance or the sound of rain on the roof.
I guess I would miss out on a few things.