It was a
very big knapsack, perhaps an old army issue one
with rivets and straps and pockets and for a day it
was mine and I loved it.
I ran across the image above while reviewing
one of the many hours of family movies that I had
digitalized last year. It was just one of many
surprises I have had while watching them.
By "surprise" I don't mean to say
that the image above reminded me of that day or of
the knapsack; it's just that I didn't know that the
moment had been captured on film. My memory needed
no jogging; I have often thought of the day I played
with the knapsack. It has been a part of my memory
for sixty years.
I remember that it
had a forehead band to help you carry it—well, you
can see in the picture that it does.
The Happy Wanderer
I love to go a-wandering,
Along the mountain track
And as I go, I love to sing
My knapsack on my back.
Val-deri!
Val-dera!
Val-deri!
Val-dera-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
!
Val-deri,Val-dera!
My knapsack on my back.
I was marching around with it filled
with pure happiness and joy—and then, then this
woman came out on her front porch—a big frumpy slob
of a woman who pointed a blubbery finger at me and
yelled mockingly, "Look at the little boy with the
great big knap sack!"
I was mortified. Ashamed. Crushed. I hated her with
all my soul.
5. El feliz vagabundo
Era una
mochila muy grande — tal vez de tipo militar con
remaches y correas y bolsillos y durante un día
era la mía y me encantaba.
Me topé
con la imagen de arriba mientras repasaba una de
las muchas películas familiares que yo había
digitalizado el año pasado. Era una de muchas
sorpresas que he tenido mientras las veía.
No
quiero decir con la palabra "sorpresa" que la
imagen me haya recordado a ese día ni a la
mochila. Nada más quería decir que no sabía que
ese momento hubiera sido grabado en película. No
necesitaba ningún recordatorio; muy a menudo he
pensado del día en el que yo vagabundeaba
felizmente con la mochila. Ha sido una parte de mi
memoria por sesenta años.
Me acuerdo de que tenía
una cinta que se ponía sobre la frente para ayudar
llevarla — bueno, bien lo puede Ud. ver por la
foto que la tiene.
El feliz vagabundo
I love to go a-wandering,
Along the mountain track
And as I go, I love to sing
My knapsack on my back.
Val-deri! Val-dera!
Val-deri!
Val-dera-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Val-deri,Val-dera!
My knapsack on my back.
Yo iba marchando con la mochila lleno de pura
alegría y felicidad — y entonces, entonces una
mujer se presentó en su porche delantero — una
gran desordenada y guarra mujer que me señaló con
un dedo gordo y gritó riéndose y burlándose de mí:
—¡Mira al niñito con la mochila
grandota!
Yo estaba mortificado.
Avergonzado. Destrozado.
La odiaba con toda mi alma.
????
I just saw this as a thumbnail on a
home movie of me in Vermont or somewhere in 1956. I
have on my knapsack that had a forehead band to help
you carry it. I was walking with it and so joyful,
pleased, and happy—and then this woman came out--a
big frumpy slob-- pointed a blubbery finger at me
and yelled mockingly, "Look at the little boy with
the great big knap sack!!!"
I was
mortified. I was crushed by this. I hated her with
all my soul. Today, I still hate her puking guts! So
there!
Although I am not one to hold a grudge,* I remember
this as if it were yesterday and forgive not the
callous old biddy!
As I type it
is 2016 and many a thing has come to pass in the
insuing 56 years.
*I most
surely lie here
