Image by Funny_Games via Flickr

Do you have the Zemanta plugin? Its pretty cool. Searches through flickr and a few other places to suggest photos and articles while you draft your post in WordPress. As you type more, it begins to include your content and suggested links.

Pretty cool, right?

But this isnt a pitch about Zemanta.

I am trying to write a book. What I am learning is that the more I read and write, the better I get at writing. A crazy revelation, huh?

What does Zemanta have to do with that?

Well, I think I want to try something as a writing exercise, and I welcome others to try this.

When you load Zemanta, before you type a word, Zemanta has 9 pictures and a dozen or so articles. So, here is the exercise. Select a photo. Write the story behind it.

I chose the image above. Still not sure the story behind it, but it seems it should have one right?

Here goes…

Today on twitter, I had an interesting exchange with @phillymac and @spamspam about the images of Target and Kmart.

My parents never had much money when I was growing up. The two stories that always seem to be told after that sentence is written or spoken are these:

My mom used to give me her tennis shoes, because we couldnt afford new shoes for me. (Now thinking back, its interesting how much shoes play in my life.) and;

My mom once saved for a long time for a perm. I was young, maybe six or seven at the oldest. She came home one day with this gigantic Afro styled perm (I still remember it). Of course, this was 1976-78 (something like that), so I think ‘fros were still in style.

Anyway, my mom came home with this gigantic Afro and I burst into uncontrolable tears.

“Who are you?” I sobbed.

“Your mother”

“No you are not! You are some strange woman with an enormous Afro!”

(okay, my memory is a bit fuzzy around the actually conversation.)

What did my mom do? She went back to the salon and had them fix her hair.

My parents never seemed to make our lack of money a big deal. I dont remember a time when we couldnt pay a bill, and had to use candles. I dont remember a time when we didnt eat, because we couldnt afford food.

But, I do remember not asking for much.

When I was in the sixth grade I had a friend named Paul Luther. He moved to Texas. No idea what he is doing now. But, he had a super sharp wit.

I remember every Sunday I would look at all the ads in the paper and think about the things I could one day afford (yes, that did me well - see my IRS post…).

I have always been very aware of brands and style, but I think I pretend that I am not, because growing up, there was no chance I would ever get a name brand anything.

Until, one Sunday, as I was looking through the ads, I came across a pair of Pony shoes.

“Now, there’s a name brand that is still in style” I thought to myself.

The shoes were in a Kmart ad.

“Fuck.” I muttered. (I learned bad words at an early age. Thanks mom!)

I convinced my dad to buy me a pair of Ponys. We went late on a Friday night. (No one will see us).

All weekend, I wore the shoes. I was so happy to finally have a pair of shoes that my friends would see the name brand on. Monday was going to be fun.

Home room was the first class of the day. Paul and I sat next to each other every day. We talked about what we would be, and we made fun of each other and whatever we thought of that day.

“Nice shoes,” Paul said.

I was so excited; I figured that he didnt know I got them from Kmart.

“Yeah, dude.” I beamed. “They are Ponys.”

“Yup.” A huge grin broke out across Paul’s face.

“You got those from K-mart!”

I was struck dumb. I didnt know what to say. Embarrassed would be an understatement. My head hung low for the rest of the day, and when I got home, I put those evil Ponys in the back of my closet, and never wore them again.

I wonder if that experience led to my love of flip-flops…