In the early eighties, my mom and dad decided it was time for us to move. "We need a bigger house for you three boys."
Our two bedroom cape cod house was too small. I remember feeling panicked. What do you mean move? I have friends here. Would I have new friends there? Do they have little league? These were the only things I really cared about. They were all that mattered. As a child, I had dreams about playing baseball for the New York Yankees for Pete’s sake. Who doesn't?
The house was already picked out. A new three bedroom ranch house on a couple of acres of land. My dad was from the city. I think he enjoyed the idea of owning a piece of property with no neighbors. I, on the other hand, thought it was a bad idea. What was I going to do in the country? And this was indeed the country. There was a huge difference between Middlesex and Hunterdon Counties at that time. We lived in the suburbs where I could ride my bike around the block to see my friends. We played in the streets: wiffle ball and kick ball, four square (before it become some sort of social media thing that I could care less about) football and kick the can. We were kids, but it was all changing. I was moving to the country.
And so we moved. It was February and it was cold. As far as I was concerned we could have moved to the Rocky Mountains. A snowfall one February morning surely felt deeper than before. My school was weird. It was only a few years old, but they thought it would be a good idea to shape it like a barn or something. The country. I missed my New Deal era built school. I managed to make friends. Even at a young age I quickly realized I could be a clown in front of anyone willing to give me more than 15 seconds of attention.
The following year my new friends and I moved to middle school. It was here I found something special. The school play was having auditions. Excellent. I can do that I thought. I had performed once before we moved. I think it was the 1st grade in a play about a family of animals. However, I got the role of the father of all the animals. Big disappointment. I remember wanting to be an animal: a cool duck or a bear. Leave it to my mom to have a plan. She dressed me in a suit and put talc into my hair to make it white so I appeared older. I might jave worn a fake mustache for effect. She made it pretty great experience though. I auditioned and got a role. Not a lot of fifth graders landed roles in the school play. That was it; I was hooked.
I was never really pleased about moving from the suburbs to the country. I never did get the chance to play Official Little League® baseball, but I did find something else that changed my life. I guess mom and dad knew what they were doing.
by Kevin T McCarthy
Find him here: Kevin on IMDB