The Happiest Days of Our Lives

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The Happiest Days of Our Lives Page 11

by Wil Wheaton


  photo pages

  Wil and Dad, around 1975. Dad never had sideburns again like he did in the early seventies ... Jesus, does anyone?

  In 1978, we moved to Sunland, and this is the house that I truly grew up in. See that pole on the right? That was always “safe” when we played hide and seek. If you look very closely, you can see 2 year-old Jeremy on the left, by the corner of the roof he’d eventually crush both his heels jumping off while holding an umbrella, inspired by multiple viewings of Mary Poppins on the Disney Channel.

  That’s my grandparents’ farmhouse. Beyond it, you can see the Baskin Robbins we went to all the time. In the foreground, are some of the chickens my parents raised.

  This is the Rainbow Theater that I mentioned in Blue Light Special. My dad took this picture in 1982. The Rainbow is gone, replaced by a banquet hall. It’s impossible for me to not feel sad when I drive by it.

  This is my little brother, Jeremy, who was never without a hat of some sort when we were kids.

  My 4 year-old brother, having realized that he was being photographed, turns around and doesn’t even try to hide that he’s snagged someone’s pop-top beer. This is one of my favorite pictures ever taken of him.

  That’s my aunt Trina, holding me when I’m about 2.

  Our first Christmas in the new house in Sunland, 1978. I remember this as the Christmas of Big Wheels, even though I got a Green Machine. It remains one of the coolest presents and modes of transportation I ever got.

  See the hallway door back behind my sister? Our bedrooms were down there, and every Christmas morning we would stand behind that closed door, close our eyes, and hold hands as we were guided into the living room by our parents, at which time we cold open them and see if Santa responded to any of our letters. This looks to be from Christmas morning 1983, if the Return of the Jedi and Indiana Jones PJs are any indication. I especially love that the jammies my brother and I are wearing come with flip up collars, just in case we have to run out to a meeting and don’t have time to change first. As you can tell from our expressions and body language, we’re a little excited to see that we’ve gotten dirt bikes.

  Judging by dad’s perm, mustache, and awesome sideburns, this is in our house in Canoga Park in 1975.

  This picture was taken before I was born, but I included it because that’s my dad’s 1971 VW bus, which I loved so much, I sobbed until my throat was horse when they traded it in for a Dodge Van around 1980.

  My dad and me, in 1972. Even though I can’t see his face, it’s such a trip to see him at 24, in some groovy 1970s overalls. See the Hi-Fi behind us? One of my earliest memories is listening to Goodbye Yellow Brick Road on it, through the giant gray headphones with the long black curly extension cord.

  There is a very strong gene in the Wheaton family that makes all the men look exactly like this when we’re about 18 months old. My dad, my cousin Jason, my grandfather, my brother, and too many of my second cousins to count all have photos that are identical to this one.

  Wil and Kasha, 1972. Until 1976, we lived behind my grandparents, on a farm in the San Fernando Valley (it’s nothing but apartment buildings and strip malls now, but until the mid-70s, it was nothing but farms from Saticoy to what is now the 118 freeway. Kasha was my parents’ Great Dane. See that couch? We had it recovered and we kept it until at least 1986.

  As you can tell, I really loved that dog.

  I spent almost as much time climbing this walnut tree in Canoga Park as I did falling out of it. It was hit by lightning in 1977 or 1978, split in half, narrowly missed our house when it fell down, and was eventually cut down to make way for a parking lot. (OK, I made the parking lot part up.)

  All you damn kids today, with your ironic faux-old-school Spiderman T-shirts and fashion cuffs on your jeans can get off my lawn! I was OG, baby.

  I had one of the worst cases of Pac-Man Fever that was ever recorded in the continental United States. It was knocked into remission, but still flares up from time to time.

  Disneyland, 1980 or 1981. My brother has proclaimed his allegiance to the Pirates of the Caribbean, my sister is determined to climb up and hug Mickey, and I am really into wearing my dolphin shorts.

 

 

 


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