Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Poop Is the True Memory

Talking at lunch today about childhood memories and how different they can be for us compared to our parents. Sometimes, it's because how we feel about a memory becomes stronger than the memory itself, which is either a saving grace or just an untethering. 

My parents were always really good about having the family experience "culture," and when we first moved to the San Francisco Bay Area, they took us all to see our first Chinese New Year's parade. They remember our seats curbside for the closest view possible, and the dancing lions, and the drums, and the regional costumes, and the Chinese food afterward. We remember that it was the Year of the Ox, and that very fellow, live in the parade, pooped right in front of us. 


  1. Hi there. It's nice to meet your blog. I once told my mother about a time when she insisted I get a certain type of shoe (Oxfords) and I really didn't want them. I think I was in second grade. I was getting upset about it and I remember my mother kept insisting and the shoe saleperson said, "All the high school girls are wearing these." I remember saying, "I don't care." When I told my mother this story, she laughed and said it never happened and has brought it up several times to illustrate my poor memory. I now realize that the true memory in my case is probably the way I told it except that I was too shy and quiet to throw a fit, so my memory of my in-store dramatics probably involved me whispering to my mother and the salesperson that I really would like a different pair and not arguing further (but to me that would have been dramatic). The funny thing is that my mother won't even accept that memory. And now I'm laughing at how dumb the salesperson must have thought I was because it was 1966 and I don't think that the high school girls were wearing many Oxfords anymore. After all, we were almost at the dawning of the age of Aquarius.

  2. Thank you for being my first comment-ator!

    It's funny how your mother has taken this episode (of your relating the episode) and created a whole other kind of true memory for you. At least, that's how I'd feel about it.

    And the age of aquarius never really made it to my hometown. That's why a retreat (or advance) across the bay was so necessary!

    When I talked to P last week, he told me about your blog, so I'll add it to my list too. Good luck with the garden!