WHO POSTED THIS?

I or some other member will provide you with a post taken from an individual's writings. This person may or may not be currently active. The quotes (posts) may also be taken from other web sites frequented by A2Kers. I believe we can select postings from our own threads. Hopefully, someone will comment on the legalities of quoting from other sites.

Your job is to identify the author of that post. Speculation is encouraged. In the event you are unable to name the individual, a clue will be provided.

The game is over when the correct author's name is posted by me or the presenter of the quote.

In the event I fail to provide another quoted posting, feel free to initiate one yourself.

WHO POSTED THIS?

Most of my memories of the 2 places we lived in while growing up
are very specific - rooms to people. sometimes furniture to
people. The bench in the eat-in kitchen is where i lay for hours
talking on the phone to my best friend Ann who lived across the
street. My parents bed (still the same bed and room nearly 40
years later) is where my mother and i lay on lazy weekend
afternoons to read, drink tea and eat chocolates. The the living
room hosted the dance floor for many years - first my friends and
i dancing to the Beatles on my special little pink bathroom rug,
then dancing on my father's feet while Lawrence Welk was on,
later practicing cool moves with my friends and ironing our hair
(literally) so we could look more like Laurie Partridge, and
let's not forget the local favourite "teenage dance party, hosted
by brian onley". The basement on Sunday nights with my father,
polishing everybody's shoes for the week ahead and talking until
it was time for the Ed Sullivan Show. Hanging laundry with my
mother and talking and arguing and laughing.

The years in the middle bedroom, making notes in my diary to
remember to never ever agree with anything my father ever said on
particular subjects, confessing true love and doodling all my
intended married names.

While there were difficult moments, I have worked hard to
remember the joyous times and the laughter over the tears.

My parents still live in the house I lived in from the age of 6
to 18, and it is difficult sometimes not to have an automatic
childish response to a comment simply in reaction to the space
we're in.

Shoe polishing is still a good time to share with my father,
though we're done faster since I bought him an electric polisher.

and someday that bench is going to be mine! Ann and I still talk
on the phone after nearly 40 years of baby teeth, ours and the
next generations, and I still lie down on that mission oak bench
to talk on the phone when i travel home.