Back in the Groove

You can't put your arm around a memory but you can stop to smell the nostalgia. I have been staying at my father's house in Hutchinson KS for almost three days now. this is kinda of a big deal because after I left this city in 2224 I made it a personal goal to stay here no more than three days at a time. A few things have happened.

There was a hot rod festival in downtown. Ramblers abound for one night only.
I helped my grandmother move all of her shit to a her new 'old person home' aka Golden Years. She is 83.
While packing her goods, I found out that she had copies of life magazine circa 1962 until 1986. She had saved every years complete volume and I totally yoinked them. So for the last three days I have been energetically devouring those sweet dust papers from cover to back, issue by issue. It's really fun to read a magazine pondering whether or not Bobby Kennedy will run for president in 1968. Or a magazine talking about Woody Allen as a rising comic in the 60's. Or reading about Reagan's first election as Governor of California. . .
I drove around and thought about what my life was like when I lived here. A lot has changed, while not much at all. The city has lost much of the zest that I remember, and many of the old stores I loved have now closed down. My parents told me that my old high school dropped in population, so it's now a 5 A school instead of 6 A. (6 A means above 1,000 student body)
My beloved cats who know all of my super secrets are still alive so there has been much heavy petting.
I've been reading Walden by Thoreau. "the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation."

I don't know anybody who lives here anymore but I did run into people who know me, or used to know me from my wee wee youth.
Earlier this evening I was craving gummy worms so I stopped at a convenience store near down town. Upon walking in I hear, "Oh my god, Brock!" I turned to see that the person calling my name was one of the clerks from the gas station. I looked at his face, faltered in memory to collect his name, followed by noticing that he noticed my squinting expression of memory failure. He said, "oh man, how have you been?!" Then it came to me, "josh! - - sorry, been awhile, ha" (IF ANYONE SAYS YOUR NAME AND YOU DONT KNOW THEIR NAME YOUR IN FOR A BAD TIME. REMEMBER EVERYONES NAME OR ELSE) I walked closer to touch his hand in a shake. his hands were slough like so the contact was awkward. he followed while we shook, "hey man, crazy to see you, you look amish!" "what?, I look amish?" "Yeah, I remember that you used to be like this skater kid." I smiled, "oh yeah, well, that was a long time ago. I like who I am, and look like, (pause) now" He stopped in mid thought looking me up and down, I noticed, leaving me with the feeling of when a dog smells your crouch in public, do you push the beast down or ignore it in stride? "that's cool, So where have you been, what have you been up to?" At that point I explained my last five to seven years ? of my life in one sentence, "oh you know, school, traveled around a little. I just got in from out of town and I'm visiting my parents." "oh really, where did you come from?" I paused impishly, not wanting to say, "california." "woah, that's super cool, Yeah, I can't wait to get out of here too, maybe one day." "yeah how is it around here? I've been touring the streets and everything looks about the same." "yeah, same old shit, it's pretty boring around here." At that point a person came in the store needing to be helped thus providing me with the purr fect moment to break the conversation with the clerk known as josh to find my sugar worms. they were to easy to find and I laid my 97 cents down. "talk to later josh." "yeah, see ya around"

[ I think that josh was three grades ahead of me? Our main contact happened after his girlfriend broke up with him to go out with me for a month. We had a small quibble over it, but since the relationship was short, we made terms and became slight speaking chums for maybe a year. One time I think that I drank a natural light at his apartment when I was a sophmore in high school while he told me how great sublime the band was. I hated sublime but felt so cool to be drinking a beer. Oh, the things that mean a big deal at one time usually don't mean a thing at another.]

I will be here until friday reading Life magazine's from the 1970's.