Monday, 7 April 2014

Memories of the - other- year

It’s funny how the brain works.

There I am, driving along, thinking about this and that when I see a young man walking along the pavement carrying a sports bag.

He’s wearing shorts.

The traffic lights change to red and I’m back in my youth, remembering how I used to play squash with this guy who was, maybe a friends dad.

Maybe we played as a threesome.

I remember being there, where we played, but I have no idea who it was, how we got there and what we did when we had finished.

I’m pretty certain sex was not part of the deal.

I haven’t thought of any of that for years.

Then the traffic light changed to green and I drove home.

I made some tea and turned on the computer.

No e-mails.

What’s happening on e-bay?

And I see a small table football game that I had when I was about 8 years old.

And I’m eight years old again, struggling with the hand held magnetic play stick, trying to move my striker into any position other than upside down.

The frustration comes rushing back and again my brain is full of stuff that 5 minutes ago I didn’t know what was in there.

E-bay is fantastic for nostalgia.

I bought a UPL Party Game that my mum and dad had trotted out on my seventh birthday.

It was brilliant.

I rang my sister and excitedly recounted the fact to her.

There was a silence on the line.

“I don’t remember that.”

I’m worried about my sister.

I know she’s older than I think, and getting older – she tells me that she has applied for a bus pass – but she doesn’t seem to remember ANY of the essential stuff from when we were growing up.

Not the fantastic UPL Postal game, not the one where we made weird animal noises on the stairs and not even the episode where she ate MY birthday biscuit.

Maybe she HAS gone senile.

I hope not, if she has then I can’t be far behind.

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