I have a tendency to freeze dry memories of people. No matter if I last saw someone ten minutes ago or ten years ago, I remember them in a particular way and if it turns out that ten minutes does become ten years before seeing them again, I'm always surprised at the changes they've undergone.
Perhaps because I see me everyday in the mirror (though by the cuts from shaving you could be forgiven for thinking I close my eyes some mornings) and my own changes are more gradual and subtle, when confronted by a real-life 'then and now' side by side comparison, I often lack the verbal agility and grace and, instead, say something cutting and caustic (and totally in character) like 'what happened to you?' We've all wondered 'if a tree falls in the forest and there's no one to hear, does it make a sound?' If your solitary life changes as you mature and no one notices, did you ever live at all?
We devote so much time and talent to accumulating things: a house, a car, a big screen television, a nicer house, a bigger car, a heated swimming pool, season tickets for our favorite sports team (Don't get your hopes up, Lou, it ain't your guys), a Winnebago-hell, a herd of Winnebagos (The Tubes' What Do You Want from Life?', 1975) that in the end we risk becoming possessed by our own possessions. There's an expression that says, 'you can't take it with you when you go.' Though I suppose you can die trying, or just die.
"You are just an echo of a world I knew so long ago.
If you saw me now, you wouldn't even know my name.
I bet you're fat and married and you're always home in bed by half-past eight.
And if we talked about the old times, you'd get bored and you'd have nothing more to say.
"Yes, people often change, but memories of people stay the same."
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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