I guess depending on how you look at it, memories can either be fuel for loneliness or like in this case they can take you to places that you thought you'd never see again. There's an island in the middle of a lake in northern Ontario that is a good 60 miles away from the nearest electrical line. Once the propellor on the plane stops, the silence is deafening. I used to go to this place once a year until rich businessmen took it over. It is only rented out 6 wks [ 24 guests]of the year and the price became phenomenal. Summer is coming and I sure would love to be there again. It's a small island, about a mile and a half from the mainland. There are no mammals there: so there are no mosquitoes. Even if no fish were caught, it is a beautiful place to spend a week. The only loud noise that can be heard would be the loons at dusk. Is there a special place in your memory that you would like to go back to? I hope so. Enjoy your summer and I hope your climate hasn't changed too much. PAX
My neighborhood in Sunnyvale, California, when I was about six years old. It was back in the days when there were fruit trees everywhere in California. In our yard, we had lemons, oranges, apricots, and plums. They were all delicious and my mom made jam from them. Most years, we had homemade jam coming out of our ears. The plum tree was especially interesting because it was a good climbing tree, and it was in the front yard, right next to the street. When plums get ripe, they are very juicy and succulent. And they're the perfect size for throwing. So we would climb into the plum tree, pick the ripest fruit we could find, and throw them at cars as they drove past on our street. They made such a satisfying splat on car doors and fenders, and the foliage from the tree hid us nicely from the drivers' eye. Ah, that was good fun.
When I was a lad of 12 or 13, living at the foot of Big Stone Lake, in western Minnesota, a friend and I would sometimes borrow one of my fathers boats (he owned a resort on the lake) and load it with food, blankets, and cooking supplies. We would row the boat several miles up the lake to Kite's Island - a mile-long deserted island with the remnants of a tumbled-down house and a still-standing barn. We would stay for as much as a week at a time, camping in the woods or in the barn, and fishing for our dinner. There was much small wildlife on the island, raccoons, badgers, groundhogs, etc., as well as the occasional deer that would winter there, only to find themselves captive when the ice melted. We imagined ourselves to be Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, living the carefree, idyllic life... and so we were. I long for those sun-baked days of little responsibility and large imagination.
Well Granny- you were a scamp when you were a little girl weren't you! I must admit there isn't much more satisfaction than eating your own homegrown fruits and vegetables--- probably the only exception would be eating freshly caught fish. That always puts a big smile on my face. Last nite a friend of mine who does not own a computer read this thread and wants to contribute. In his early twenties he went canoeing for a morning outing with a girl he had just met. They came upon a very beautiful meadow that up until then had never had any cows in it. The farmer who owned the land decided that this would be a good place for them to graze. Surprisingly, the cows were extremely docile and didn't care if someone shared the meadow with them. So- they laid down their blanket and had a picnic, complete with a bottle of wine. Being that they hadn't seen anybody at all that morning, they decided that it was a warm day with a light cool breeze - perfect for making love. It was the first time that he ever had a simultaneous orgasm. It couldn't have been a more perfect day. This picnic occurred over 35 yrs ago. And to this day, anytime he smells cow manure , a warm glow comes over him and a sly smile comes to his face. The memory is as if the picnic was just a couple of days ago. PAX
LOL ... I thought for sure you were going to say the blanket was red and there was a bull in the pasture. Oh yes. Fresh-caught trout, flipped right into the breakfast skillet. Can't be beat.
Before I'd gotten to the end of your post Trig my mind was thinking Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn...how I loved those books when I was a kid...longed for that type of life. Not much chance for a townie kid, but I remember the sun being much warmer then and our days were always filled with 'doing'.
Being in Minnesota, the timeframe was very different, but much like the young protagonists in Mark Twain's story, my friends and I were always the first to shed our shoes in the spring and the last to take them up again in the fall. I came from a neighborhood of many children, but we were neither "townies" nor country raised. We came from that in-between area, on the very edge of civilization and a large lake, where many of the town folks lived amongst the resorts and vacation homes. It was a place of apple orchards, bait shops, the hustle and bustle of tourists, docks, boats, kids, dogs, crawdads, turtles, frogs, snakes, and every kind of thing that makes being a kid fun. If I tried, I could not imagine a better place to grow up. I miss it horribly, but it burns bright in my memory.
A lot of these places are in our head. I lived in a really old rundown nieghborhood in North St. Louis when I was a kid and that was my home to explore. Ash pits, maggoty garbage pails, moldy basements, outhouses , big rats - all quite fascinating. Kids can incorporate their environment and own it no matter where. There were two large sycamore trees growing out of the brick sidewalk in front of our apartment. They have an aroma that always takes me back there when I smell it. I also visited grandparents and family in rural Mississippi thru out my childhood and those places; farms and fields, cold clear running water swimming holes, playing barefoot in the woods and pastures with cousins, finding Indian arrow heads and all sorts of explorations are also fond in my memories. Cow manure has a nice smell actually.
Many good memories - but honestly - my most intense memory was of moving to a new town and sweeping off the driveway because I had nothing better to do - no friends, nowhere to go. Gently weeping. I also remember years earlier being out on my bike in another town when a black kid came up and wanted to ride with us - no way - you're black!! Growing up in the south was not always good memories. 62 now and I still regret that. There were tons of good memories - Jumping out of the car at a red light and screaming LARK as we ran circles around the car - camping out in the back yard with my best friend - Lord that was a long time ago!!
That was our world - full of shit ideas like that. Which is why we grew up and said enuf and changed it. I still remember that hand clasp in New Orleans with Charles in '68, the first black person that I was close friends with. The contrast of my white hand and his black hand entwined struck me. I also remember looking out my window at that time and seeing a black boy and white boy playing together. I wondered to myself at what age do they separate and quit being friends because the adult world was still quite segregated. Except for those who crossed that barrier, like me and Charles.
You think hands give that contrast. You should try other body parts. Although ... weren't you married to a black woman at one time?
Yep, that happened about a dozen years after Charles and I first became friends on the Police Dept. Shale & Brenda - Contrast
my memories have been making me sad latley. i miss my old times doing dead tour and hanging out with my friends i have been thinking about it and them alot latley. and i try to remember the people i used to hang out with the brothers and sisters from tour and i know its all lost now and those people i will never meet or see again and it makes me sad and i can remember faces and things we had done but i couldnt even begin to remeber anything else except a few first names i really wish i kept in touch with people from the past of my life and wrote there names and numbers or addresses and put them in a safe place where they would never be lost. its pretty sad when u live with four people in a two door car for three months or so at a time and you forget there names and stuff but you can still picture them and see them in your head and remember the good times. so i guess theres no need for me to be worrying about all these people because ill never see these people anyways
Don't be so sure, Frostea. Back in the very early '70s, I hitchhiked all around the country for months on end. I ran into some very special people that I was only with for a few of those months. We travelled together, ate together, slept together, laughed together, cried together, and experienced all manner of joys and hardships together. We travelled across great expanses of the south and southwest together and eventually found our way to New Orleans, in time for Mardi Gras. When Mardi Gras was over, we sort of split up and each went our own way. We never really new each other by anything but nicknames, or first names: Chuck The Chick, Elly, Rev, Lucky, Stan etc... So I gave up any hope of ever seeing any of them again. Last year, I made contact with a couple of them, after 38 years. Never say never. If you want it badly enough, it can happen.
This is such a lovely thread .My favorite memories are about the neighborhood I grew up in .I live in Ky which can be a very racist place but my next door neighbors were black .They were just like us and no one treated them any differently .All of us neighborhood kids would get together and play ball ,hide and seek ,or just hang out .Oh it was the best place to grow up in .We had so much fun .I still am friends with a lot of these people I grew up with .My across the street neighbor was my best friend and still is today .We had a little creek in the woods behind our house and it had a little waterfall .Me and her would pack a picnic and bring our breck shampoo and wash our hair .There were fish where the water pooled up and we would fish and roast hot dogs .It was a joyous time .A few years ago she and I took our boys down there and it was so cool taking my kid to the place where most of my childhood time was spent .We took pictures and fished and had a picnic .It was one of the most precious times of my life .I look back so fondly at the wonderful times we had .It was as good as it gets .Thank you for letting me share my memories .I have had a warm ,fuzzy feeling just thinking back on it . Peace and joy
Here's another memory, brot on by a foto from '69. I was still a cop in New Orleans, hadn't dropped out yet but was hanging around the Quarter meeting some of the counter culture ppl. I made friends with Yanette and one day after hanging out all night decided to drive up to my family in Brookhaven Mississippi. Just crazy stuff young ppl do. (The posture in the pic is awkward because I took out other family members that were posing around us.) Anyhow, whoever told me that a neckerchief went with sandals? Kinda embarrassing, but that's history now. Oh, Yanette was Egyptian so all my family was studying her to see if she was black. (It's a Southern Thing)
