Jarred Memories … Or Memories In Jars

 

A friend in High School had a set of felt pens: you could only see the ink using a blacklight.

Over a few years he covered every inch of his bedroom with writing, doodles, and other stuff: the walls, ceiling, floor, furniture, stereo speakers, and even the inside of drawers. Nothing remained untouched.

It was pretty cool at the time.

I don’t think his parents ever knew about it.

I saw him a few years ago and asked him about his old bedroom.

It’s all still there, but I don’t know what most of it means anymore.

That’s how I feel about my hometown.

 

note: sure you can never go home, but people seem to write about the experience a lot of the time anyway.

double note: I like when people sum things up for me unintentionally.

triple note: it took me a long time to realize that something good came out of my hometown: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cowichan_knitting

… other than me of course. hee hee!

quadruple note: I haven’t forgotten anything about growing up, … I’ve just misplaced a lot of things for long periods of time.

.

Today #160

Today an 8 year old student puked in my classroom. I don’t usually have that affect on people … or a stained smelly carpet.
(I always ask people what they ate as I clean up their vomit: it’s an anti-gag reflex reflex for some reason)

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6 responses to “Jarred Memories … Or Memories In Jars

  1. Sounds like some of my old stories. Yeah, they’re still around, but when I read them I have no idea what they mean. Come to think of it, my college text books are like that too.

  2. My hometown for me is full of many firsts and all my youth. Therefore, no matter where I go, I naturally compare everything to it. While I realize now that home is where you hang your hat, memories of my youth remain some of the best and so again – for me, there is no place like home. 🙂

  3. Were there carrots in the vomit. You can never eat carrots for years & there will always be carrots in your vomit. It’s just one of those laws of the universe that can’t be avoided.

  4. My home town (village) has a lot to answer for: They invented cricket there apparently. Why couldn’t they have invented motocross instead?

  5. Thanks for the comments.

    writerdood: some times I think dictionaries hold the most meaning.

    Kelly Pettit: I knew I would draw a response out of you with this one. hee hee!

    Tony: no carrots! … a lot of seaweed though. The kid said he’d eaten a hamburger, but he must have eaten it very well because I couldn’t see any hamburgerish elements in the mess.
    … seaweed must be the carrots in Japan.

    Tooty Nolan: it must be fun to invent a sport and see other people enjoying it. I bet trying to get all those people to pay you money must be the hard part. hee hee!

  6. I’m in Duncan a couple times a year still, Ross. Oh, it was just a couple of years ago I realized that “Lakes Road” was the road between the 2 lakes…well that made sense, eh? Gotta argue…it’s not all still there…they just moved the liquor store, so all that’s left from “back in the day” is Martin’s Mens and Boys Wear (but you didn’t shop there, did you – your shirts never really matched the uniform, as I recall) and Bucky’s Sporting Goods…and the hospital….that’s it, I think; everything else is different…oh, RBC is still there too. Nope, I don’t know what any of it means either. I don’t think there were were any Sycamore families (or trees for that matter) on Sycamore Street, either….but I loved getting sick on the crab apples at Beaverpotts.

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