Sunday, 1 January 2012

My First Love


As with almost every person on the planet, I fell in love early. I loved him more than I loved Lady Lovely Locks, the Easy Bake Oven* and My Little Pony. Combined. Riding a rainbow wave of delicious gummy bears:


But not orange gummy bears, because they’re the devil:

Yes… More than that.

Please note: I was five at the time

Who did I love, you ask? Well duh:



That’s right. I loved La Bamba himself. Ritchie Valens.

I would wander around the house singing his songs ALL DAY.



I planned our wedding on a daily basis. He would sing “Oh Donna” (changing it to “Oh Karin” though, obviously) as I walked down the isle, and we’d fly off into the sunset together on our way to our honeymoon where we’d go to West Edmonton Mall and stay with my grandparents (again, I was FIVE). Looking back on it, I’m thinking the plane ride was a bad idea….

One day on “mommy/daughter day” my mom decided that we should watch a movie together. Since she fully supported my love of Ritchie (because it’s sooooooooooooooooooooooooo cute), she decided it would be a great idea to watch….


Yes. My mother decided that watching a movie that ended with THE DEATH of the love of my young life, was an awesome idea. I’m pretty sure she didn’t remember that it was a movie based on his rise (and big assed fall…) in the music world.



Then she looked at me…




That’s right, mom. This was a TERRIBLE idea. My tiny little heart broke into a million pieces. I cried and cried and cried for days. I sat in the corner of the living room crying to myself while singing “Oh Donna” in a wavering, heartbroken tiny voice.

It got to be too much for my parents. Finally my dad pulled me aside one day and explained something to me.



Ritchie Valens had been dead for almost 30 years. ALMOST THIRTY FREAKING YEARS. This started a whole new train of thought. What the fuck, mom. You let me plan my wedding to a GHOST? That’s just friggin’ sick!!!! Think of the children!!!!!

After that discussion, my love of Ritchie faded very very very quickly. I moved on to a new love.



Yes. Flying Spanish mice/human babies made more sense than ghost/human babies. Complete sense.



*I always wanted an Easy Bake Oven, but to this day, I still never had one. The broken hearted five year old inside me is still longing for it. Fuck you, normal grown up oven in my kitchen. You’re not the same. Not the same at ALL.

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