As I grow older I realize that my memory is just not what it used to be. I have a good recollection of certain events but there are usually no faces attached to that memory unless the event was memorable.
Sometimes someone from my past, for instance an old school mate, will come up to me and stare into my face saying, “remember me?” When they do this I instantly realize I am supposed to know them and I know this has happened to some of you if you are past sixty. When I cannot recognize them it is embarrassing and I will say something like “it’s coming to me. Give me a minute.” Most times it will come to me and if not they will usually say something or start talking about an event they think I will remember, but as I have already stated, if the event was not memorable I generally cannot recall it and I have to apologize and go from there. I hate it when that happens.
Ken Vickers
Shoeless in Ambrose
What does an event take to be memorable? Well, let’s just see.
I was never a ladies man in high school; in fact, I only had one date where I asked the girl to go with me to a function. I had a crush on her and I thought she was the prettiest thing on earth. It took a month to get up the courage to ask her to go to a ball game but I finally summoned the nerve. I figured the ability to borrow my parent’s new car ought to give me an edge so I popped the question and to my delight she said yes. Whether it was my good looks, animal magnetism or the new car I still don’t know but I was on cloud nine.
I prepared for a week polishing and repolishing that car, making sure the fender skirts fit just right and the white walls were free of even the smallest speck of dust. I went to Earl Watkins Inc. and bought a new shirt, some pink socks (this was before pink meant anything other than pink) and a bottle of English Leather. I wanted everything perfect. I even shaved my one whisker.
Finally, it was time to pick her up. I waited just down the road from her house for 30 minutes so I could pull up right on time like I was in perfect control. I knocked on the front door and she appeared, like the goddess she was, with her Daddy right behind her. He was a big man and he looked at me and said in a tone which meant business “Be back by eleven with my little girl, son.” “Yes Sir,” I blurted a little too loud.
In the car and on the road to Waycross for the game, I would steal a look at her for an instant and then look right back at the road. I could hardly believe we were together and could barely talk I was so nervous. She was soooo pretty and smelled soooo good. I don’t know what kind of perfume she was wearing but it had me completely intoxicated and spellbound; or at least something did. I don’t have a clue who won the game. I guess we were playing Ware County since we were in Waycross but I couldn’t swear to it for I was in a daze.
Finally, everyone started leaving so I assume the game must have ended. I really don’t know since I was in such a fog. All I remember of the trip home was her soft, silky smooth hands reaching over to hold mine, which made my heart beat a mile a minute and my mouth drier than a bale of cotton.
O.K., O.K.! I’m coming to the memorable part of this event.
I pulled up in her yard and turned to say goodnight and give her a peck on the cheek when she whirled and kissed me right on the lips and stuck her tongue in my mouth. The shock of this, my very first real kiss was so electric it blew both my shoes off.
AND THAT’S WHAT I CALL A MEMORABLE EVENT!
I was never a ladies man in high school; in fact, I only had one date where I asked the girl to go with me to a function. I had a crush on her and I thought she was the prettiest thing on earth. It took a month to get up the courage to ask her to go to a ball game but I finally summoned the nerve. I figured the ability to borrow my parent’s new car ought to give me an edge so I popped the question and to my delight she said yes. Whether it was my good looks, animal magnetism or the new car I still don’t know but I was on cloud nine.
I prepared for a week polishing and repolishing that car, making sure the fender skirts fit just right and the white walls were free of even the smallest speck of dust. I went to Earl Watkins Inc. and bought a new shirt, some pink socks (this was before pink meant anything other than pink) and a bottle of English Leather. I wanted everything perfect. I even shaved my one whisker.
Finally, it was time to pick her up. I waited just down the road from her house for 30 minutes so I could pull up right on time like I was in perfect control. I knocked on the front door and she appeared, like the goddess she was, with her Daddy right behind her. He was a big man and he looked at me and said in a tone which meant business “Be back by eleven with my little girl, son.” “Yes Sir,” I blurted a little too loud.
In the car and on the road to Waycross for the game, I would steal a look at her for an instant and then look right back at the road. I could hardly believe we were together and could barely talk I was so nervous. She was soooo pretty and smelled soooo good. I don’t know what kind of perfume she was wearing but it had me completely intoxicated and spellbound; or at least something did. I don’t have a clue who won the game. I guess we were playing Ware County since we were in Waycross but I couldn’t swear to it for I was in a daze.
Finally, everyone started leaving so I assume the game must have ended. I really don’t know since I was in such a fog. All I remember of the trip home was her soft, silky smooth hands reaching over to hold mine, which made my heart beat a mile a minute and my mouth drier than a bale of cotton.
O.K., O.K.! I’m coming to the memorable part of this event.
I pulled up in her yard and turned to say goodnight and give her a peck on the cheek when she whirled and kissed me right on the lips and stuck her tongue in my mouth. The shock of this, my very first real kiss was so electric it blew both my shoes off.
AND THAT’S WHAT I CALL A MEMORABLE EVENT!
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