I was born in a fishing village in northern British Columbia.
It must've been a happening-enough place, though, because when I was 2 or 3, my folks entered me in a baby beauty contest, which was picked up by the local newspaper (I guess there's not much news in these northern towns). Somewhere, my folks still have the newspaper issue that's got the big front-page spread about the contest.
The "grand prize" was a rocking chair. Runners up received bags of groceries from the local grocery store. I think my folks were hoping I'd 'place', so they could get a nice little food buffer in their pantry.
Alas, I won the whole dealio. My parents were interviewed for the paper by one of the cub reporters. That same reporter ended up 'growing up' and becoming a pretty big name in BC politics when I was a young adult. My 30 seconds of fame, as it were. Or maybe an "I knew them way back when" moment...
And, as a result, there's a rocking chair in our garage, now.
When I was little, it lived in my room. And then, when I was older, it usually lived in the front room, with a vine-type plant twining through the wooden spindles of the chair-back.
Hmm. I wonder where I put it. I don't recall having it out since we moved into this house...