Biographical Non-Fiction posted January 16, 2023 |
Third Place
Guest Star Cancellation
by Douglas Goff
Aug 16th ,1977, I was eight years old. The previous fall, something incredible happened. On September 5th, 1976, CBS aired a Jim Henson production called The Muppet Show.
The silly genius of Henson lit a fire of imagination in my best friend Duane and I. We started our own production company in his basement. We stole doll clothes from our sisters and created our own puppets from Styrofoam.
We made twenty. Our plan was to do a dance themed show featuring musicians with our puppets. We created a stage complete with a disco ball. We used his parents’ camera and filmed our skits. We chose Queen and Elvis music, certain the artists would one day guest star live on our show.
That August day, Duane’s mother hollered down, “Hey, your dad’s coming.”
“The monster!” Duane used the term that all us kids used for my abusive stepfather.
Out the door I went into the nearby two-acre woods. It was 98 acres too small for Winnie The Pooh, but it hid me well.
After the Monster passed by screaming for me, Duane came over and looked at me solemnly, saying, “Elvis just died.”
I remember thinking, “Now I won’t meet Elvis.”
Long Live the King! writing prompt entry
Aug 16th ,1977, I was eight years old. The previous fall, something incredible happened. On September 5th, 1976, CBS aired a Jim Henson production called The Muppet Show.
The silly genius of Henson lit a fire of imagination in my best friend Duane and I. We started our own production company in his basement. We stole doll clothes from our sisters and created our own puppets from Styrofoam.
We made twenty. Our plan was to do a dance themed show featuring musicians with our puppets. We created a stage complete with a disco ball. We used his parents’ camera and filmed our skits. We chose Queen and Elvis music, certain the artists would one day guest star live on our show.
That August day, Duane’s mother hollered down, “Hey, your dad’s coming.”
“The monster!” Duane used the term that all us kids used for my abusive stepfather.
Out the door I went into the nearby two-acre woods. It was 98 acres too small for Winnie The Pooh, but it hid me well.
After the Monster passed by screaming for me, Duane came over and looked at me solemnly, saying, “Elvis just died.”
I remember thinking, “Now I won’t meet Elvis.”
Writing Prompt Write a story about where you were, what you were doing, and how you and others reacted when you heard that Elvis had died. The first sentence should tell us how old you were. No longer than two hundred words please. |
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