A Drive through Small Towns and Fading Memories (Day 5)

KK had a memory, as we drove past these Oregon beaches, of daughter Lee and herself flying down the dunes at a hundred miles an hour on one of those crazy rides they would take together. We could not remember where Kelson was. I would have been elsewhere, on a slow-moving trolley contraption of some sort, as I don’t like scary rides. When was that?

Lee on Lincoln City beach, photo by kajmeister

The happy problem of too many memories.

Was Kelson with us? Was he with his friend in Cleveland that one summer? Down at camp?–no, Lee would have been at camp at the same time. How old were they? I think seven and nine because that’s when they were the best traveling companions, after they learned to mind us and ask interesting questions but before they lapsed into teenage silent nods and shrugs.

Lincoln City

Continuing north, we passed Lincoln City, which is world famous for its kites. Sure enough, they had a kite festival in play, but we had cleverly flown ours on a more deserted beach, the day before. Meanwhile, I found the picture of the original One that Got Away with proof that Kelson was with us. Your Honor, if it please the court, this was 2004, and I was exactly right with the ages.

Me, Kelson, and offending kite in 2004. The kids painted the hat. Photo by kajmeister.

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We Don’t Remember the Future Imperfect

Author’s Note: I apologize, in advance, for mangling Spanish, misinterpreting quantum physics, and injecting so many puns into this essay.

Time is perfect. We are imperfect. We remember only the past. We don’t remember the future.

The past is always tense, the future perfect.

Zadie Smith

This quote from English novelist Zadie Smith is today’s provocative question (muchas gracias, Fandango). It suggests we remember the negatives and hope for the positives. The future hasn’t occurred, so it can be what our imagination creates. This is also a play on grammar, which is a subject much on my mind these days as I am attempting to learn Spanish. So, for me, the tense is confusing. The present might be more like the collapse of a wave, given that the arrow only goes one direction. But the Multiverses suggest that the arrows might go several directions, if we could but see them, and that would make the future perfect. Let me explain what I mean.

One view of the Multi-verse, photo of Into the Spider-verse by Sony Pictures

Tenses Are Difficult. Futures Are Also Difficult.

The use of the word Tense, in the sense of verbs and grammar, comes from the Old French word for time which was tens. That’s not to be confused with the current French word for time, temps; language has changed. Language, like time, moves forward (and collapses). The word does not refer to “tense” as in stretchiness, which comes from the Latin tendere. This is why Zadie Smith’s quote is a looping play on words, since it mixes emotions and grammatical expressions, and either deliberately or innocently uses them wrongly. Tense does not mean tension. It is a homophone. Which is intense. And perhaps what she intended.

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Why Johnny Can’t Adult

The world is definitely going to hell in a handcart. Civilization has reached the breaking point. I’m talking about multiple stories in the NY Times this past week that suggest the relationships between colleges, their students, and students’ families have become completely dysfunctional. Today, the discussion about the 50% increase in traffic on Facebook pages for student parents was the last straw. Here’s my suggestion. Chill Out. Remain aloof. Just say, “I don’t know exactly what goes on at college these days.” Leave it at that.

Colleges Are Not Summer Camps

Apparently, more than 200,000 people joined university parent groups last year, which means such social media participants number in the millions by now. Typical posts discuss whether there are fire alarms going off, where parents can buy mattress toppers, what’s going on during sorority/fraternity rush week, and how to arrange to have cupcakes delivered. Yes, you read that right. A parent wanted to know how to have cupcakes delivered to her nearly-adult son for his birthday. As she might have done, maybe, every year when he was in elementary school. Do you suppose she had cupcakes delivered when he was in high school? Was her son mortified? Did he try to throw them in the trash before anyone outside the office saw them? Or disavow them? Or sell them to friends for extra cash? I have so many questions about this behavior…

Fun Memoir Fact. When my high school son was getting a ride to somewhere, like high school or a skate park, (which was often because he didn’t have a car), he wanted to be dropped off at least 50 yards away. And liked to get out of the car when it was still moving.

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