Loose Leaf Notes

I attended a workshop on “taking oral histories” sponsored by Floyd’s “Old Church Gallery” this past Thursday night. At one point during the program, the presenter said something to the effect of: ‘You might be one of those people who starts writing the story before it’s finished happening, one who lives more for the story than for the actual event.’
I laughed and nodded my head knowingly, because I recognized myself in his statements. Then, remembering the message on a T-shirt I saw posted on “Dooce,” I glanced over to a friend from my writers’ workshop and mouthed the words: “I’m Blogging This.”
About 20 people participated in the workshop. During the break, we ate macaroons and pretzels, at which time a fair-haired acquaintance approached me and said, “I understand that you were first published at the age of 11 with a letter that said, ‘Dear Abby, How can I get rid of freckles?’ What I want to know is, what was her answer?”
After getting over the initial shock that she knew that much about me, and then remembering she was recalling one of my trademark sayings that could have been read in several different publications, I tried to answer. But first, I had to confess that my memory is spotty and that as a child I was known to have “pipe dreams.”
I began, “I can’t guarantee that she answered me. I know I wrote the letter, but I didn’t read the newspaper at that age on any regular basis. So how would I even know if it got published? The point was more that even at that young age, I recognized the power of my own voice and the written word. But…I vaguely remember…I think the answer had something to do with a lemon,” I guessed.
“Yes! That’s it! That was the answer!” she exclaimed, and then continued. “I don’t remember your letter, but I read Dear Abby regularly as a young girl, and I remember that answer.” She went on to recount how she had tried using lemons to get rid of her own freckles. It was cold, sticky, and stinging, she remembered. Also, it didn’t work. We both laughed at the unlikely connection we had, reading ‘Dear Abby,’ and knowing firsthand that some young girls don’t like having freckles.