This morning, I was 17.
On my way to my school for my 9:30 class, I decided it was a Strangeways, Here We Come morning, considering that that Smithsian Schwanengesang was released 20 years ago. So, I was driving, listening to "Paint a Vulgar Picture" and recalling how much a part that album was of fall '87 and crap with Corey and weirdness and losing Uncle Mike and all the other merde of that season--but also of Kla & me prepping for our appearance on public access TV to talk about apartheid (remember?) and her putting her hand on my arm and saying, "I touched you at the sound check."
Just yards from the exit ramp off the Merritt, an overpowering wave of nostalgia ambushed me. And Jennie wept.
I am not going to say that cyclical hormones weren't a contributing factor, but still . . .
La Recherche du temps perdu indeed.
5 comments:
Seriously. How do any of us make it out of high school alive?
You know what is really funny? I was JUST thinking about that TV appearance a few days ago. I have no idea why it popped into my head, but I was thinking something along the lines of "what the HELL did I think I was doing talking about apartheid in South Africa, as if I really knew something about it???" (Not that it was a bad thing to raise awareness, but...)
I might need to go listen to The Smiths to get me through the rest of the afternoon...
What's scaring me a little bit is that I don't remember you guys doing that at all, although the Corey saga and going to Uncle Mike's funeral and all that came back clear as day. Reading this post gave me that same oh god/exhilaratingly good/shudderingly bad grip of nostalgia that reading Leela's posts often give me-- except in this case (with the exception of the tv appearance!) the memories were really mine too, not someone else's new experiences bringing back other memories to me...
Um, Anthony? How 'bout dem Mets?
Oh yeah, dere gonna have a helluva off-season, sure.
Use any good power tools lately?
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