Thanks for the Memories

When you have a mind like a lint trap, a mind that catches meaningless bits of fluff and saves them forever and ever and ever, hardly anything happens to you that doesn't remind you of something else. Two examples:

--This morning I read in the newspaper that there is supposed to be a meteor shower visible from New England and parts of New York State tonight. This reminded me of being twelve, the summer between sixth and seventh grade and going over to my friend Tracy Thomason's house where we laid out on those lounge-type lawn chairs for half the night, bundled in blankets (even though it was August--it was damp and chilly) counting meteors together. Then I tried to imagine staying up late enough tonight (they start at around 11:45--but they could be late and who knows what time the "peak" will actually be?) to see the meteor shower and I knew I could try but odds were there was no way I would be able to keep my eyes open. (In fact, I tried to stay awake for a meteor shower at a family campout/get-together over the summer and failed miserably.) As if Rad Daly in an apple suit weren't evidence enough--I am soooo old.

--Daughter-Only told me a long and breathless story about a kid on a school bus mooning everyone driving and walking by. She found it a little gross but she was less traumatized by the exposed flesh than she was by the concept that the kid might have gotten paid to do it (she was convinced he did get paid). Just before the conversation devolved into a debate about why she thought someone must've paid him and who the hell would pay someone to drop their pants, etc, I was reminded of a time when Little Sister was a senior and I was just out of high school. We had gone into town and were coming out of Burger King when a flasher came around the corner of the building. [Blurt Alert! The rest of this post!]

He had his fly unzipped and his erection (let's hope it was his--if it was someone else's that's a whole other level of disturbing) in his hand. Before I could even register what I was seeing, my sister said, "Okay, so where's the rest of it?"