Friday, April 18, 2014

Memories (or the Lack of)

"When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown
The dream is gone
And I have become
Comfortably numb."
-- Pink Floyd 

Maybe it's age. Maybe something else. I dunno.

I remember certain specific moments of my youth as far back as the age of one or two. Six second "Vine" videos of the mind, if you will.

But, bigger chunks, including things that I thought, at the time, I would remember forever are completely gone.

                        This is a photo of the future PC and his sisters on a trip to Williamsburg.

I remember that that trip happened. And I remember bits of minutia. From that trip and the rest of my early years.  But I don't remember this particular moment.

And a whole lot of others.

And that sort of freaks me out.

Some years ago, I came up with a title for a song that I would never write, because I don't write songs. "I Can't Remember 18."

Oh, I remember my 18th birthday. At least a whole lot of moments.

It was pretty epic.

There was a major party at our church's Fellowship Hall. Friends and peeps who were never my friends attended. Music was provided by my garage band friends and I did the intro laugh to "Wipe Out" and did a stage dive. Later took the mic and sang Alice Cooper's "I'm Eighteen," in my one and only public display of singing.

Still later, escaped the chaos to my house to socialize with a couple of summer camp friends.

Someone, I don't remember who, drove my sisters home and hit the gas when she should have braked, and plowed through our garage door.

Pretty sure my sisters remember that.

Good times.

My memories don't gel much prior to my official adulthood, around 1980. Everything that came before is a dream that dissipates a bit more with every passing day.

Again, that freaks me out.

One would think that one's "first time" would be an indelible memory.

But, no.

I remember that my high school sweetheart and I, because we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, (but no,) gave each other our virginity.

Was it awesome or awkward? Or a bit of both?

Was it in the back of my Dad's van at a drive-in movie? Or was it in my bed while the family was away?

Damned if I remember.

See what I mean? I have forgotten the details of my first time.

Do you get why I am a bit freaked out?

I realize that The Blog's Mom and Dad are probably reading this, right now. And The Blog has ventured into, seriously, TMI territory. Sorry Mom and Dad. But, decades have passed. Since I barely remember it, you don't need to worry about it.
I am now grateful for my Dad's penchant for picture taking and to my sister and bro-in-law for taking the time to archive and share the thousands of slides Dad took.

Probably for the best that no pics were taken of my "first time." Just thinking out loud.

My memories prior to about 1980 live, not in my own mind, but on hard drives.  

But, I am glad that they are there.

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