Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Situational Side Tracked

"The memories will be so thick they'll have to brush them away from their faces."

That was something James Earl Jones said in the movie Field of Dreams. It has always stuck with me, because as he said it he did a motion with his hand as if to brush a few flies away from in front of his face.

That's the perfect analogy of what happens when a song or a scent or a line from a movie reminds me of something.

There's a Don Henley and Patty Smyth song, "Sometimes Love Aint Enough." It chokes me up just typing the title. I remember hearing it when I was 13 years old, sitting in the back seat of Heather O'Brien's mom's car, a day or two after my dad died.
I remember thinking in my head, about the song's title and how it's true. Just because you love someone doesn't mean they're going to stick around.

Now, keep in mind I don't feel sorry for me. I feel bad for that 13 year old that had to deal with all that. How horrific. I feel badly for my poor friends who went thru it all with me. Could you imagine trying to comfort your little buddy after her dad was murdered? Kids don't get that kind of training. Nobody does.

In another universe, I had a boyfriend for about four months when I was a teenager. He wore this cologne, I can't think of which kind. I passed by a display in a store not long ago and I smelled the cologne. I stood there freaked out for a little while because I knew that scent, I just couldn't figure out why. It really did take a while for me to remember where it came from. Suddenly I was transported back in time (in my head, no flux capacitor or DeLorean here) and I could recall all the things going on in that time period. The cool Oxford University sweatshirt I used to wear, the awful perm I had, those acid washed jeans. Not so much the boyfriend, because he was quite forgettable. But the time period was intense and that scent threw me back to all of it. It reminds me, of all things, my first trip to Las Vegas. It reminds me of sitting on a bench outside the mall watching all the people walk by. The Strip. (Las Vegas Blvd) We were so used to the Midwestern streets that were ugly, cracked, dirty, and damaged from the extreme weather and then we saw this beautiful black-topped street lined with palm trees in Vegas. Wow. Cologne reminds me of that.

Oh, and the movies. Every stage of life seems to have its favorite movie. But one remains my favorite of all time. You know it, you love it, (just admit it) Superman. One line reminds me of so much. Margot Kidder was playing Lois Lane, and at that point in the movie nobody knew anything about Superman. So as Lois is asking him questions, she asks in her head, "Can you read my mind?"
He never answered her. When the movie got out, our family walked out into the warm evening and I recall my brother asking, "So, can Superman read minds?"
My dad faked his answer, because he was a firm believer in never saying, "Hmmm I don't know." He said yes. For us Superman experts we know this isn't true. Duh, Daddy.
But besides that, I remember what I was wearing, it was a new black and red sun dress that I'd gotten for my cousin's wedding. I also remember wearing socks with my sandals. Idiot. Hey, we were fresh out of Arkansas, I had no clue.
I remember discussing that subject some more with my brother, as we played in an old broken deep freezer three years later. And while we hiked in some cottonwoods two years later. We didn't lay that subject to rest until my brother was 14 and I was 10. That's because several more Superman movies had been produced and the wide range of his powers were portrayed to be so ridiculous we gave up on debating them.

When I play the Superman movie (that's the beauty of having an office at home) I hear that line, and I am transported back to the last time I remember our family being together and somewhat happy. 1980. Before I became AWARE, I suppose.

Last week I heard a song on the 80's channel and it brought back so many random memories and it made really no sense at all. I didn't listen to Bobby Brown back then, but everyone around me did. So I heard "My Roni," a lot. It reminded me of Steffanie's front porch, my neighborhood, the German Shepard that chased me down and bit me, the Hy Vee grocery store, the one dance I went to that year, chewing gum, and this preppy kid who drank too much. Poor Jeff.