Thursday, March 13, 2008 :::
I have a pretty good memory of my childhood. Most of the memories are pretty colorful and vivid and complete with sound effects and movement. But some of them are more like a slideshow of static images all assembled in succession, like I'm flipping through a photo album of split second moments or something.
For instance, I remember when I was around 10 years old, a friend and I secretly climbed up onto the roof of the school by my house to retrieve lost tennis balls. I searched one half of the roof while he searched the other. When I was finished with my side, I went back to find him but he was nowhere in sight. I noticed a single shoe poking out from behind a chimney, so I investigated. Rounding the corner of the chimney, I was shocked to find my friend squatting, with his pants down, pooping on the roof of the school. His closed eyes and the strained look on his face are like a never-fading freeze-frame snapshot in my mind. I can even accurately describe his entire outfit to this day.
I also have a freeze-frame memory of the first time I saw my grandma with no wig on. I came out of the changing room to see her wading waist-deep in the shallow end of a swimming pool. I didn't recognize that strange bald person with the single poof of gray hair on the tip top of her head, so when she spoke to me I screamed. For some reason I have a freeze-frame memory of myself screaming as well, which is strange since I obviously was not at the proper vantage point to witness my own reaction.
And then there was the time that I collided with another biker on a path through the park. We were headed right at each other, but I saw her approaching from afar, so when she came close enough to pass I simply slowed down and moved over a little to the side. But so did she. So I moved over a little more and reduced my speed again. She did, too. We were like mirror images of each other. By now we were each barely moving fast enough to stay balanced on two wheels, yet we had only a fraction of a second to avoid a collision, so I made one last ditch attempt to hit my breaks and move even further over to the side. But of course, so did she. We ended up colliding head on in an awkward slow-motion crumple of flesh and steel. The final freeze-frame in my mind is from when I came to and saw a twisted heap of foreign legs, bike spokes, and booty socks.
I think I even have freeze-frame memories of events where I wasn't actually present, which really makes me doubt their accuracy. Oh well, I'm going to pretend they are all true until someone tells me otherwise.
::: posted by dan at 7:22 PM :: [ link ] :: (6) comments
6 previous comments:
I know an idiot who to this day believes he rode on the back of a dog rescuing people after a terrible tornado hit his Ohio town. The tornado happened, I have my doubts about the seven-year old hero.
Now what was that comment about dogs?...
By , at 11:40 AM
I love all these stories and the pictures! Hilarious. I have some freeze-frame moments too, only I can't really remember what the backstory is.
By , at 9:45 AM
Dan, I am crying, laughing over the bald Grandma story. actual tears.
"I didn't recognize that strange bald person with the single poof of gray hair on the tip top of her head, so when she spoke to me I screamed."
By , at 7:34 AM
Dan, I concur with Toddbee. Your blog is always great, but I did a total spit-take when I read that line about your grandma!
By KerstinMSD, at 2:15 PM
the Jesus guy in his underwear is hot. Anyone have his number?
By , at 5:01 PM
To Anonymous b4 me| the Jesus Guy looks like 15 tops, so i hope you're a pubescent young girl. And notice the hair - he's falling into the water... But you probably noticed already :)
By , at 5:39 PM
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