Special K

You don’t remember when we went on that trip that went nowhere?  The further from home we went the stronger we felt.  Our independence that had more pride than all the 4^th of Julys.  Our responsibilities had no boundries.  The money we made had no meaning and our future had no past to regret.

Back then an empty parking lot was the best hotel room.  The music spoke our feelings and soon the condensation on the windows became our curtains. Living was learning and reality was a personal experience that left me curious, involved craving for more.  Reality wasn’t voting someone off the island.

Remember when the little things meant everything?  When patience wasn’t forgotten from the convenience of now.  When forever really felt like forever.  The best part was when sleep wasn’t deprived and sleeping in was not sacrificed or not bribed with coffee and green tea.

Although some things don’t change.  I still don’t completely feel like an adult with my business casual attire,  a marriage and a child that calls me daddy.  I love that my son is the shield that hides me so I can sometimes be free from adult authority.  We sing out loud.  We scream for no reason and we jump curbs like they are rivers.

Youth, I know it happens once.  I know I have let you down sometimes, but I have not forgotten you.  You exist in my son, my photo albums, and my stupid jokes.

Home away from home, the motto of a military brat. An expression that we lived by.  Home was new every 2-3 years, so were the people we met.  Friends were lost and forgotten. My memory has some faces with no names. Places are blurred together. Some memories are filed in the wrong areas.  Especially if the event, person or situation was similar. Our memories are a collective set of other memories that make us remember our memories.  Remember that movie with Jim Carey called, “The Butterfly Effect?” I bet a military brat wrote that movie.    

Here is an easier example.  If you think of an object, …like a keyring.  You know which key opens the front door to your house. You know the sounds it makes when you put the key in. You know which way the key turns to unlock the door. You know which key that key is next too on the key ring etc.  See the pattern of association from just one object? 

I would love to sit and listen to my wife chat with her friends about past memories.  It amazed me how far back they could go with the details. It amazed me how many more friends she had on facebook than I did.  It amazed me that most of my friends on facebook were her friends.

Now here is how it works with a military brat.
I can remember my first grade teacher’s name.  Mrs. Dray. 
I can’t remember my classmates.

I can remember recess in the first grade,
I can’t remember which playground it was at.

I can remember my first kiss.
I can’t remember How it came to be.

I can remember my first fight.
Kevin and I beat the shit out of him every Friday. He deserved it.

I would often hear the expression “it’s such a small world.”  Yeah, I rode that ride at Disney. I thought Disney was full of shit.  To me the world was huge! It scattered my friends and swallowed my memories, but the power of facebook has made me believe that Kevin Bacon is six degrees away.  Just recently a friend I went to middle school with in Korea contacted me through facebook. 

He came to visit all the way from Seattle, we had such a great time…. remembering.  I was starting to pinpoint things.  It was really great to remember so many things that I would not  have been able to remember without him.  It was great to fill in some blanks.  It made me a memory junkie. I need another fix, and out of the blue another friend has contacted me, Zac.  My brother and I hung out with Zac, so often that we called his mom, “mom” too! He had the best lego collection and a dad that was a base commander with cool privileges that allowed us to see the armory at Suwon air base.  I can remember some things like sleeping bag wars, and fried ice cream at the NCO club.  I can’t wait to fill some of the blanks. Strange that he lives is Seattle too. It must be a small world after all.

It was obvious that the man in front of me has never been to Subway.    He immediately started ordering from the breakfast menu when it was clearly the afternoon.  I would have too, it’s the cheapest item on the menu.  He was lacking all the common etiquettes that the rest of us knew about ordering.  Yes, you get a choice of bread. It was obvious that he was trying to get the most for his money. He struggled to understand the prices, the choice of ONE meat, and the value meal. He was rough looking. Loud, but seemed courteous. It was easy to understand why the people around him were a little uneasy. 

No one wanted to stand next to him.  Everyone was scattered.  There was no form of a line at all.  He was the only one standing at the counter.. I was hungry and I saw my opportunity to move ahead of everyone.  Nobody seemed to mind. 

He had a book that was about as thick as penny that he almost left at the “start here” part of the line.  I reminded him to get his book.  He thanked me and mumbled “I can’t lose this book it’s a good read.”  The book was something about Muslim faith.

I couldn’t help but study him and try to learn his story.  The tattoos on his arms and neck were pictures with shakey lines. There were symbols and words that had no meaning to me. A different language apparently.  His hair was long and tangled in 4 different colors.  (Yeah I noticed.. my wife is a hair stylist).

Of course I paid for his stuff.  I was trying to get my food and it would have taken him forever to count all the change he dumped on the counter. The employees and customers were a bit taken back when I said “put his stuff with mine.” The cashier seemed human again and smiled.   Maybe my gesture smothered the tension and reminded people that he was just trying to get food too.

On my way out he said “you just keep looking out for me don’t you?” Maybe he thought I was a prophet, but then I realized he was talking to his book again.  He looked up and I said “take care,” he told me to do the same and thanked me.

I couldn’t help but think about how fortunate I was.  It’s easy to forget and it’s sad that I am only reminded of fortune when misfortune stares me in the face.  After all, 22 million Americans are without jobs. My company added 16 more to that list.  It’s hard times.

Here is you’re cute for the day!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tVu-cRgqbbw

It was a beautiful day to hit the wineries.  Being at a vineyard seems to add a touch of class to the word “drunk.”  Haiving Gavin with a British accent made our trip feel very authentic.  It was funny to see how many ladies were falling in his lap because of his accent!  After a few more drinks I was telling people that he was our butler.  We only made it to two vineyards.  We are such light weights.  Gavin how come there are no picture of YOU! ?