Not long ago I read Elizabeth McCracken’s beautiful memoir, An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination, in which she writes, “My memory is a goddamn liar.” Turns out so is mine. Perhaps you’ll recall my affinity for ducks? No? What about now?
In my memory I got that duck for Christmas, though recent photographic evidence suggests that it was a birthday present. (Something, at some point, was wrapped in a big crinkly black plastic garbage bag, but who knows what it was, maybe a throw pillow.) My birthday is in the summer, June, and I must have received it for my 11th (10 was a bike, that I know for sure). So here I am receiving The Duck. Who would have thought that I would get this much mileage out of it?
These photos are courtesy of my brother, who went home for Easter with a portable scanner in tow. I’m not sure why he began with the 1985-1988 family photo album, but I am glad that he did. Tune in tomorrow; there’s more where this came from.