there was this kid i knew back when i was one, too. his name was michael d'angelo and he was in my kindergarten class at primary plus in mountain view, ca. i'm not sure how i remember this when i don't remember what i ate for dinner a week ago, but i remember this one afternoon when we were both waiting for our parents to pick us up. there was this water fountain where people used to toss coins into and make wishes on, just outside of the entrance. michael and i were walking around the fountain, round and round. we were walking around and decided to count as high as we could. he'd say "1" and i'd say "2" and so on. now, crazy as it may seem, i swear we counted to at least a thousand. then my dad came and picked me up and his parents were right behind. i don't remember much else about this kid but that memory's just kind of stuck around my whole life.
its funny the things that do, you know? and you really have no choice in the matter most of the time. i mean, i still remember getting my thumb getting caught in the car door of my dad's Olds back in the day and him offering any way to make it up to me and i asked for a Happy Meal. i still remember getting chased by a bee when i was picking flowers in a garden with my friend from first grade, andrew kulch. bees don't chase, you might say, but i still remember the sweat pouring down my face as we ran from the garden through the parking lot to his mom's station wagon. i've hated bees ever since. i still remember going to birthday parties at nickel city in san jose and all the times i watched my father and grandmother cheer on the cowboys when they took on 49ers from the big screen in our living room. i still remember what it felt like to get up on stage the first time and i was fucking terrified. i still remember forgetting every word to "at the fair" and just kind of humming along and hiding behind my guitar. i still remember the first time i ever threw a football and, unfortunately, i also still remember kristen sexton massaging my arm and pinching the nerves in between my bicep and not being able to throw one again for almost two months. i still remember the first time i walked down wilshire boulevard in los angeles and the first highrise building i ever saw up close. then there's this gap of a year or so that is so god damned cloudy in my mind, a year that felt like a decade and spent under the influence of no less than five different drugs i had no business taking. i lost a year of my life and then lost the last year trying to get it back. but i'm here. and i'm alive. and i'm healthy. and i still remember getting off that plane in boston and the entire bus ride up to lebanon. i still remember the look on my father's face when i got into his car and he took me home. i still remember my dogs jumping into my arms. i still remember my stepmother's baking. i still remember my home. and i will always remember that. i still remember telling myself my entire life i would never become a writer, to do something that actually matters. i still remember the first words i wrote in the introduction and the first chapter of MAKEGOOD. i still remember the moment i realized life isn't always going to end the way you think or plan, it's the ride there that matters most.
and i still don't remember what i ate a week ago. but maybe there's a receipt in a pocket somewhere that can fix that.
Posts
