Discussion about this post

User's avatar
Carole Duff's avatar

I have a vivid memory of the night my father came to tuck me into bed after I'd disobeyed his order to pick up a Little Golden Book I'd left it on the driveway. My infraction at age seven was not due to churlishness but fear of what was under that book: a squashed grasshopper. Yes, I had committed murder, or so I thought. When my father came into my bedroom and told me there was nothing under the book, my relief sank into the pillow of my bed. I remember seeing the pink-flowered wallpaper and feeling the firm mattress under my body and the cool breeze flowing from the north-facing window. Except that room didn't exist until I was sixteen, when my parents built three bedrooms onto the house. Before that, I shared a blue-wallpapered bedroom with my two sisters and slept in a bed with a thin soft mattress that sagged in the middle, and the window faced east. So, now I wonder, how reliable are the rest of my memories?

Expand full comment
Intact Animal's avatar

We remember our first concert. It’s a story to tell over and over but the details fade. At least they used to, before you could type a few specifics into the search engine. Voila! Names, dates, locations, even set lists. The memories flood back…

I started at the top. 1990 arrived with a game-changer. Dad had scored us tickets, chaperoning me into the world of live rock. I was an ecstatic 11-year-old going to my first gig and with a Beatle, with Paul McCartney. We cruised the 80 miles north on I-35, pulling into Jack Trice Stadium parking lot, home of the Iowa State Cyclones. It was a perfect summer day in July, tailgate weather. We filed into our upper deck seats and were blown away by a powerhouse of legendary songs culminating in a John Lennon Tribute Medley. I was forever altered.

It was a pivotal and lasting experience, cementing my love as a music enthusiast and performer. Forever in search of that simple melody, those timeless patterns of lyrics and notes.

Expand full comment
4 more comments...

No posts