In my twenties, when I was a disc jockey, we used to play oldies, and people
who called in to request those songs often commented that music used to be
better than it is now. The reality is that in the old days we played good and
bad records, but the bad ones faded quickly from memory just like the bad ones
do now. No one ever asked us to play the music that bombed. The good songs make the former times seem great, as if all the music was outstanding. In reality, there was bad music thirty years ago or fifty years ago - in fact a lot of bad
music. The same is true with experiences. We tend to forget the negative and go
back to recapture pleasant events. The reality is, we have selectively
remembered - and just as selectively forgotten.
This struck a chord with me...
Because I was trying to remember learning to ride a bike...I know I learned with training wheels. I think I had a red bike. But I honestly cannot remember.
I know we lived in a house while I was in kindergarten and first grade. I've even seen it several times since we lived in it. I know my room was in the back of the house. But the only real memories I have of that room are of the "tommy knockers" (not the Steven King kind, but the mining myth/lore kind), Brit jumping on top of me and licking my face with a vengeance, and one Christmas eve where I was sure that I saw Santa Clause's shadow outside my window.
I don't really remember the rest.
I remember a double-wide trailer...the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, the muddy back yard, a living room...but I could not tell you much about the front yard, or the experiences we had. I know we had company...I even remember bringing home crawfish from the creek and putting them into that kitchen sink....but much of the memories are vague or missing details.
So...what's my point in all of this?
I'm not really sure...just mostly that I'm a scrapbooker with a story and I cannot remember what it is. And the fact that there is a bunch of my life before Leadville, Colorado that I cannot recall is somehow odd to me. I believe I had a joyous childhood full of experiences that were fun. I remember the experiences. I remember Mount Rushmore, fishing trips, hunting excursions, school programs.
I even remember the songs they used to teach me my multiplication tables and the lesson on brushing our teeth that I got in the 3rd grade.
But I don't remember the everyday stuff...Like...my favorite outfit, my favorite afterschool pastimes, the snacks we had, the tv we watched, the toys that I couldn't do without.
Its weird what I do and don't remember...and virtually everything that I remember was an "event" of some kind...a break from the routine.
And I'm wondering if this is normal...what do you remember? Do you remember specific things? Do you remember your every day?