Early this morning, while I was walking the dog, a kid on a bike with a loaded-down backpack rode by on the way to school. It recalled for me the sense I had on my own bike, riding the very same road, on the way to the high school a mile down the road.
I never felt rushed, I remember that. I remember feeling free, and like I knew I was going to get there. (I felt the same thing walking, but I usually walked home with a friend. And I do remember also the little frisson I got when some guy friend pulled up in either a black Mustang or a Jeep and asked if I wanted a lift (those were the two best, in my experience). What a thrill, to be part of this landscape. How cool it was, to be in a scene I’d seen so many times before on television. The stuff of dreams, I tell you.
Last week I was with a friend at my high school track. We were doing laps. Laps upon laps, terrifically painful rotations from a workout from my coach (triathlon, not high school). Afterwards, we took a walk through campus. I was surprised to feel how many memories just being in those places shook loose. The students with the formaldehyde cats; the argument I had with a guy who was running for class secretary, or something like that, against me (he won); the place I was confronted about losing a book a fellow student had just loaned me–I’ll never forget the hurt look on his face.
And then, recently, I’ve been remembering some things my brother said to me when he was older, about some things that happened when we were very very young:
- “You know when you guys used to put the french fries in my burger so I’d eat the burger first? Well, I always knew what you were doing.”
- “Hey. I always knew those weren’t Scooby Snacks.”
- “Remember when you were cutting my hair with the clippers? And then you went, ‘Oops!’ and walked away? Yeah.”
What places shake loose memories for you? Tell me in the comments below.
