In the Rearview

I suppose that everyone gets to a point in life where there’s more in the past than the future. Every now and again a vivid image of something or another from years before pops into your present mind and gives you a jolt. A little trip down memory lane. Funny when you’re working and tied up endlessly with junk that’s thrust onto your plate you don’t have a lot of time to reminisce. It used to be the distracting joy of Facebook before it got political and no longer fun. I enjoyed seeing what “old” comrades were up to. Like being a bit of a voyeur. Not that I cared too much about their amazing breakfast or opinion on economics or their quest for sponsorship. Alas. I dropped Facebook like a hot potato last year. No regrets. So now my meanderings into the past happen as I daydream.

It’s the random images that sometimes make me laugh out loud. Like high school toga parties. Whose idea was that and why was it even a thing? Thank god there was no social media around then. I recall getting bed sheets from a friend because that would have freaked out my mom. You need my linens for what?? Of course none of the parties were held in dry, indoor places. They were usually outdoors and things could get messy.

I mentioned another random thought to my sister. While I was in the pool (alone) in Florida I recalled a vivid memory of our family’s above ground pool and how we (whoever was swimming that day) would run in circles around the pools edge causing the water to form a whirlpool. When the current got strong enough we could simply float and let it carry us in endless circles. Or, in the brilliance of the moment, decide to fight the current by running against it. We could amuse ourselves for hours!

Also in Florida I happened upon a vintage store that sold, among a zillion other things, vinyl records. Our next door neighbour just bought a turntable so I picked out an album for him. While doing so my mind flashed back to my own very first album purchase. Selected with pride at the local Woolworths the Osmonds were all that. And, with just as much gusto, a follow up limeade drink at the cafeteria counter. Red vinyl stools and booths of course. With Formica table tops.

Our friends jokingly mentioned watching Lawrence Welk and as they laughed about the timelessness of the show (they actually still watch as do my folks when they can find it on tv) I recalled gathering around our one family TV set and watching the Sunday lineup. Wild Kingdom. Sonny and Cher. Walt Disney. My sister and I used to envy the hair flipping Cher was famous for. Jet black poker straight long hair. Wow. Lacking the natural hair to copy Cher we repurposed my mothers nylons or our tights by fastening them on our head do that the legs hung down like hair. We would sing and pretend we were Cher while flipping our “hair”. Our parents didn’t grasp the concept or the hilarity in it or else there would be photographic evidence of our performances.

I wish there would be no photo evidence of my early encounter with the local swans. Clearly my parents thought that my horror would be cute on film as I was surrounded and then swarmed by angry swans as I held the bread bag trying to feed them. I wasn’t fast enough apparently so the swans took the matter into their own beaks. As I sat crying on the banks of the river, being attacked by crazed swans, my parents laughed and took photos. WTF. I think I was two or less since my sister was no where in sight.

I admit that all of the really old memories are fond. Nothing troubling… and mostly quite hilarious. I find myself literally laughing out loud at the thought(s). It’s easy to forget that each day we make new memories. Time flies.

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