I’m probably really going to date myself with this post… but the other day I saw this image of an autograph book and it took me back to my awkward grade school days.
I don’t know why, where, or how I came to be in possession of an autograph book, but I had one. It was small with a dark green cover. The object was to collect autographs of famous people (or, in my case – anyone I could get to sign the darn thing).
After making the rounds of immediately family, I set my goal on obtaining the autograph of my cousin Brad. He was five years older than me and “cool” in ways I only dreamed about experiencing.
I had numerous occasions to ask him to sign it but I was too shy/embarrassed/terrified to ask him. After all – he was the epitome of everything cool, at least to my 11-year-old mind.
Finally, one snowy winter day when he was at our house to enjoy a rousing afternoon of sledding and some of my mom’s cinnamon rolls, I slid the autograph book across the kitchen counter toward him and quietly asked if he’d sign it.
He gave me a funny look, took the pen my quivering fingers held out toward him and quickly wrote something about “staying cool” on one of the brightly-colored pages.
Thrilled with my conquest, I mumbled my thanks and disappeared to my room. There, I may have done a small victory dance before shoving the little book into the back of a drawer where I promptly forgot about it until I moved out of the house.
Did any of you have autograph books growing up? If so, do you have any special memories attached to any of the autographs?
