Not to compete with your lawn mower story, but I crashed our Ford Pinto through the garage door in high school when I was leaving for school. My mom had left it in gear and I didn't know it would jump forward if I forgot to compress the clutch. She told me to take the other car and leave right away before she killed me. We were kids being expected to comprehend things like adults. I now realize that it was their fault, not ours, but it took years of therapy and a degree in psychology for me to understand that.
And I agree, so many people I know are stuck in the 20th century, including many family and friends. They want it to be the 80s or 90s again and act as if everything is still that way. I've stopped talking anything but daily trivia with them. It helps to find new tribes here on substack that are trying to understand what's going on and engage with it.
And hurrah that you're not done with family and know that you can reinvent yours too. Of course you can, and once you put that intention out into the world, things will start happening to you. The fates will move to help you. I'm excited for you!
Thanks, Ellen! And thank my brother Brian for the inspiration on family. He was always more the doer (like our father) and I was the dreamer. But we need both in the world, right?
…great questions in closing but not sure i can answer here is just a comment…what did strike me overall is how reminisce and nostalgia can be equal parts hug or hit, tangible and dreamed, adventurous and mundane…the current color of the mind can really shape our stories…i see my family in a hum of colors, sometimes muddy, sometimes confused rainbows, often the blurry chop chop of a summer movie trailer…the basements i think about are nothing like the photos i have seen…my most immediate memories are attempts to hold imagined emotions…our house can be art or just house it…someday i hope to own and shape my own…
Those are fascinating thoughts and I’m glad you sent them over. In a sense, all memory is false, or it’s a distant echo of what “actually” happened. Most of life is confusion and distraction—I’ve actually tried to wage my own war against that by writing and journaling. It feels like a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
One thing I thought to note: these photographs were taken by SOMEONE, and that’s part of the story people forget about. The viewer then, the viewer now. Dollars to doughnuts the first couple were taken by my shutterbug maternal grandfather Ray, and the last by the Michigan lake was Mom or Dad. I’m grateful for all the photos, since they’re very candid and not too posed, which says a lot.
…that is a really great observation…we still have our humanity…and it might be my age but i love physical media…my grandma’s and mom’s albums are always better than baseball on tv…
Not to compete with your lawn mower story, but I crashed our Ford Pinto through the garage door in high school when I was leaving for school. My mom had left it in gear and I didn't know it would jump forward if I forgot to compress the clutch. She told me to take the other car and leave right away before she killed me. We were kids being expected to comprehend things like adults. I now realize that it was their fault, not ours, but it took years of therapy and a degree in psychology for me to understand that.
And I agree, so many people I know are stuck in the 20th century, including many family and friends. They want it to be the 80s or 90s again and act as if everything is still that way. I've stopped talking anything but daily trivia with them. It helps to find new tribes here on substack that are trying to understand what's going on and engage with it.
And hurrah that you're not done with family and know that you can reinvent yours too. Of course you can, and once you put that intention out into the world, things will start happening to you. The fates will move to help you. I'm excited for you!
Thanks, Ellen! And thank my brother Brian for the inspiration on family. He was always more the doer (like our father) and I was the dreamer. But we need both in the world, right?
…great questions in closing but not sure i can answer here is just a comment…what did strike me overall is how reminisce and nostalgia can be equal parts hug or hit, tangible and dreamed, adventurous and mundane…the current color of the mind can really shape our stories…i see my family in a hum of colors, sometimes muddy, sometimes confused rainbows, often the blurry chop chop of a summer movie trailer…the basements i think about are nothing like the photos i have seen…my most immediate memories are attempts to hold imagined emotions…our house can be art or just house it…someday i hope to own and shape my own…
Those are fascinating thoughts and I’m glad you sent them over. In a sense, all memory is false, or it’s a distant echo of what “actually” happened. Most of life is confusion and distraction—I’ve actually tried to wage my own war against that by writing and journaling. It feels like a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
One thing I thought to note: these photographs were taken by SOMEONE, and that’s part of the story people forget about. The viewer then, the viewer now. Dollars to doughnuts the first couple were taken by my shutterbug maternal grandfather Ray, and the last by the Michigan lake was Mom or Dad. I’m grateful for all the photos, since they’re very candid and not too posed, which says a lot.
…that is a really great observation…we still have our humanity…and it might be my age but i love physical media…my grandma’s and mom’s albums are always better than baseball on tv…
Thanks for sharing. Powerful stuff Mike. 🙏