Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Memories That Don't Fade

Do you think that there are moments in your life that don't fade despite the passing of time? I can't claim that thought as an original one that just popped out of my massive cranium (darn it). It came up when I was reading this post over at Big Mama but it got me to thinkin'. Yes, I know, I know - me thinking - it is scary and people run from the room like something out of a 1950's horror movie.

Oh, 1950's horror movies, I feel a post coming on. But not now.

HHBL and I were talking about this in the car last night and I think that it is true. It isn't always the big things that you remember, although the big things are there. Sometimes it is the little things such as..........

We were on a trip to France in 1977. I was in high school and I was taking French and so France held this mystical "thing" for me. A misplaced thing I think because really, France wasn't all that spectacular I have to say. At any rate, we were visiting one of the bazillion chateaus that they so love there and I had to go to the bathroom. And it was an emergency. So of course everyone was moving at a glacial pace which is always what happens to me. And I was behind this little old woman, you know the kind, all dressed in black with thick hose and "sensible shoes". And she is creeping along but there is no way to pass her. And then, to my horror I realize that she has a prodigious amount of what can only be poop slowly making it's way down her legs....and I have to stand behind her for a LONG time waiting for the bathroom. There was no way to get around her or to avoid the smell or to avoid being totally obsessed with looking at her legs. I was trapped with no way out and the bathroom a LONG ways away. And then, after I finally am able to use the dirty stall I open the door and am confronted by a man, with a "man purse" no less, wanting to use the bathroom. We were in France for an entire week and this is what I remember about the trip. Well that and the fact that the Mona Lisa is a really small painting and that I couldn't get near it because of the swarm of Japanese tourists.

Or having to spend the night in the Newark airport several years ago when HHBL and I missed our flight to Delhi, India due to bad weather. Let me tell you, the Newark airport is a pit of a place and in the middle of the night it is terrible. It is as clear as day (or night) to me. Of course, I spent part of the time taking pictures until the police man told me that I had better stop it or I was going up on the "watch list". OK, OK, he did tell me to stop but the whole watch list thing might be a tad off.

Or the very first time that I ate deep fried shrimp. Oh that was a revelation I can tell you. The crunchy outside coating, the sweet and juicy shrimp inside. My mouth is watering now and I am wondering if it is acceptable to have deep fried shrimp for breakfast?

And how can I forget the time that Pilot Man and I came close to being permenantly "dispatched" by our father. I don't remember where we were going on this trip, I remember that we were not all that old but old enough to know better. We had car trouble and were stopped at some place for Dad to check things out. He had the hood up and was furiously working and Pilot Man was sitting in the driver's seat. What possessed Pilot Man I do not know but all of a sudden, as our dad was deep into the engine of the car......Pilot Man laid on the horn. And not a little "beep" I might add. No, this was a "hey buddy get out of the way you are making me late and I have been in this line 15 minutes" honk. There was a yell of agony from under the hood as my father rose up, deafened, and hit his head on the underside of the hood. I looked at Pilot Man, he looked at me, we giggled....and then we realized that there was total silence in the universe. Time had come to a stand still and that wasn't good. The rest is blocked from my mind but I think it was not good. I just remember that moment of time after the honk and before the "death in father form" racing around the front of the car. That calm before the storm, that moment of peace when you are savoring a really good joke.....that then goes so horribly bad. We laugh about it now, but then not so much.

I could go on but I want you to come back and read the blog again so I will save more of my "Memories that do not fade" for another time. In fact, they may have to be combined with "Pictures that crawled out of the crypt" for something that will really make you want to go and have an excessive amount of Pepto Bismal or alcohol or both.

Think about your own "Memories that don't fade". Write them down. It is so much fun.


  1. I have a few:

    That time I got a pencil stuck in my hand at school. I even remember the little things like this kindergartner bouncing into the nurse's office and her telling him to slow down b/c I was sitting there with a pencil sticking out of the palm of my hand.

    When I got really sick right before Heather's wedding. I distinctly remember sitting on the couch with my Beanie Babies and watching "Jurassic Park" and "Father of the Bride".

    And I remember you telling us the "old lady poop" story many times :D

  2. I'm usually not very skiddish about poop stories but that one was gross!!

  3. I'm laughing so hard it hurts. Literally hurts. Why do you delight me so? I have so much to say, and I feel as though a numbered list will help me organize my thoughts.
    1) you can have shrimp at any meal.
    2)the poop lady with sensible shoes--I was so hoping you'd share this story and when I figured out this was it, I got so giddy! And I'm still left wanting more! What happened to her? She just couldn't hold it? The line was just too long for her? Did she know this was happening to her or was she oblivious to her standing defecation?
    3)I totally liked your "watch list" exaggeration. I think it added to the overall meat of the story, and it made me gasp.
    4)But I found the "father of death" story to be the best story of all time. I can't stop laughing. I'm just sitting here giggling away. I've got to go get my husband and make him read this.
    Thanks for brightening my evening, as always.

  4. I attribute my progressive presbycusis to the "horn and the car hood" episode . . . and there is still a lump on the top of my head.


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