For years, people have been telling me that I am much too preoccupied
with the past. If the voting public's tendency to quickly forget elections
is any measure of the average person's time spent thinking about the past,
my critics are probably right. From music to movies and sitcoms to
senators, I am always somehow reminded of what was going on in the
World years and years ago.
I'd be a pitiful excuse for an ex-history major if I wasn't.
Even where current events are concerned, I am guilty of trying to find
similarities between the trends, headlines and people of today and their
predecessors. Perhaps students of history like myself are not just merely
fascinated by yesterday. Perhaps we remember with caution the ages-old
addage that "those who ignore their history are doomed to repeat it." For
whatever reason, I have lately been viewing history--my own personal
history--through different lenses: I am intentionally remembering good
moments in life. There have been many. But instead of the gray, boring
sounding word 'history', people sweeten this by calling them 'memories'.
I, personally, have tended to be leery of memories, and presume that
most others feel the same way. Although memories are often pleasant, you
can start off recalling something nice and then find yourself dwelling on how
a loved one died, how a friendship or relationship ended, and the return of
pain. Since we don't want to live through the pain again, we choose to delete
(if not just ignore) even the greatest of memories from our minds and hearts.
It's a shame that we allow some sad moments to determine how we recall
some of our happiest. The names have been changed to protect the fabulous
and slightly sinister:
"Friend A" and I chasing each other on a beach in Florida, as a group of our
peers looks at us as though we're six years old. We were 20.
"Fling B", who led me out onto a club floor for the first time and gave me one
of the best kisses I've ever had.
"Family Member C", at then-age 83, videotaping Arkansas on a road trip,
while I drove.
"Partner D", who took hold of my heart on the second date over sushi, and
never let it go. A cabin, a jacuzzi with a stellar view, pillow talk, picnics.
"Randoms E", a group of friendly strangers from an Atlanta coffee shop who
struck up a conversation, which led to dinner and a wonderful tour of the city.
"Boyfriend F", and the exhilaration of navigating strange ice-covered roads
to enjoy a "youthfully energetic" day while playing hooky.
"Co-Worker G", who, over games of ping-pong, taught me that I could love a
straight, happily married man--without wanting more than emotion.
"Fag Hag H" talking about men, hopes and dreams as we lay in bed one
summer day, then going to eat catfish.
"Family Member I" and his penchant for civic duty--watching him raise flags
in Waddy, Kentucky at 5am and feeling proud. Groggy, but proud.
"Hitchhikers J", a fascinating, young couple who gave me inspiration in a very
difficult time in my life--also living proof that not every hitchhiker wants to
kill you (even though their b.o. almost did the job.)
"Scenery K" in the rising sun of Eastern Washington's high plains at 6am on a
Sunday-- a horrendous waking hour, but one that revealed photographic
perfection. Sleeping in my car was worth it.
"Candidate L", whose '08 victory elated a progressive city, and caught me
happily in the middle of a random street party; walking home from the light
rail to the sounds of cheering and honking cars.
"Friends M", whom, over a couple of trips, showed me the joys of hedonistic
living in fabulous, nothing-like-I'd-ever-seen San Francisco. Lone Star, sushi,
Embarcadero.
"Drive N", the most beautiful stretch of road I've ever been on in my life, and
the 'lonely yet strong' looking building next to the lighthouse and the effect
that picture had on me.
"Friend O" and the awesome night of partying and managing to smile at the
view from his front yard, steadying him while he puked at 2am. :)
"Scenery P" found at a 'swimming hole' in Eastern Oregon, tucked back off of
a gravel road, 40 miles from pavement. Clearest water. Pure air. Beautiful
trees.
"Nights Q", in the company of LGBT youth/college groups. Dinners. Fun
meetings. Crushes. An invite for 5 people to chill out at my apartment--how
that turned into 30 is beyond me.
"Friends R" and the time spent enjoying their friendships in Portland. Red
dresses. Blow Pony. Lunches at Huber's. Eagle trannies. Pulling Coke out of
someone's "ice-cold"...
"Scenery S"--two, actually--that made me feel humble and peaceful in my life:
the ocean (Atlantic & Pacific) and the Redwood National Forest.
"Smalltown T"--walking on the tracks, in the pastures, on the sidewalk without
care. Old ladies with cookies, best friend's parents owning the general store=
sweettarts & Coke everyday, Labor Day, waving while mowing the field, knowing
9 out of 10 passers-by.
"Cemetery U"--the history of them all. The quirkiness of Lone Fir in Portland, the
beauty of Cave Hill in Louisville. The isolated one in Condon. Carrying a fallen
stone away from the neighbor's cemetery in Waddy when I was 10--and promptly
being told to return it.
"Activists V", passionate college-aged defenders of a certain political party, all
giggling with delight as we risked murder by stealing yard signs from the opposition
on a dark, humid Western Kentucky night.
"League W", and the hot double-headers, frightening grounders, double entendres,
laughably intense competition and uniforms that made softball enjoyable.
"Holiday X", with its warmth, food, giving and happiness. Mom's always-beautiful
home, feeling close-knit, tall tales, introducing my man to the awesomeness.
"Faith Y" and the slow development of my spirituality. Playing the organ, first time
at a Unitarian church, identifying the connection between harmony & social justice.
"Moves Z"; the euphoric feel of a city being your oyster. New friends, new hang
out spots, new surroundings, new independence.
While I'm not in the business of giving advice or telling people how they should live
their lives, I would urge anyone to risk the chance of pain, and to take some time to
remember the good things that have happened in their lives. The average person gets
so caught up in the problems of their own World and the one at Large, and tends to
forget just how much beauty and truth exists in the memories that we've shared with
others--and with ourselves. When you look back, I hope that good times surrounded
you. It's important that you keep the memory of them nearby.
The road to your future had to come from somewhere.
