Someone I considered really clever once wrote about how some things stuck in his mind because of utilitarian value (like how to tie your shoes or unfasten that one, quite tricky bra), some because of extreme emotional value (that one kiss, the look on a baby's face), and others for no explicable reason. His insight was memorable, but not his name.
Here are some things I remember, but can't for the life of me justify. I expect this to become a long list, but it's equally likely I'll grow bored.
Discovering that tiny crater in the sidewalk that someone filled with resin. I was about six at the time.
The bicycle in front of the college library, its rear derailleur covered with a swarm of bees.
Madly cleaning my ears the morning I was to sit next to Barbara in Jr High.
My first Sir Guy shirt. It was green and black and may have been one of my first name articles of clothing.
The abbreviations I used for the beers and wines I had to restock when I was a stock boy. While I can't recall many of them now, they pop up whenever I see them in a liquor store. Nothing fancy (TB=Thunderbird, SZ=Schlitz, etc)
Racing Mike in our sports cars, and blowing away his TR3 when I shifted to third gear, and his having no answer to my fifth.
Spending the night with that fucked up chick in the back room of my best friend's house.
The hole in that man's chin. It was a tiny slit, only 1/8" long and reminded me of the folded part of a fastened staple.
The cheese course after dinner in Courmaeur.
Gagging on custard.
Rehearsing for that Jr High skit.
Wondering if it was true about girls wearing red and black on Friday, and hoping it was in Patty's case.
Using a time clock, the feel of the card, and worrying about the over-punches.
Sitting in my '57 Ford in the back yard getting drunk with Randy.
Waking my parents when I cranked the stereo. I had the headphones on, but not plugged in.
Ruining candles by dripping water from my fingertips into them to create water bubbles in the molten wax.
The girl who waited on me in the diner in Arizona.
Playing Battleship during lunchtime in High School.
Brad and the paper bag he'd fill with smoke and inflict on everyone. His wife's accompanying look of annoyance.
The trees Scott and I were allowed to climb and the ones we couldn't.
Painting shop windows for a Halloween contest with Chris.
The look of my clarinet case. Black, with silver speckles and filled with maroon velvet. Also, the taste of the reed.
Sitting in the park reading Berkeley's dialogues.
The souvenier bear I got at Mount Rushmore. He had glued on fuzz, was one inch tall, and was sitting in a pile of rocks.
Walking through antique stores with my sisters and mother.
Shopping with my mom and grandma, bored to tears looking at bolts of fabric, examining display window dressings.
Walking to downtown Westchester, using the path through those trees that smelled funny.
Dan, and his two outfits, one blue and one gold.
Riding my bike past Greg and Lilly's apt. and calling out.
Buying cookies for the meeting when I wanted to bring strawberrys dipped in chocolate.
Burning scrap wood down to charcoal on my apt balconey for a barbecue.
Drinking from the stream when everyone said it would make me sick.
Hiking around the campground in Angeles forest.
Risking my jeep on Miller's Jeep Trail, not aware that I could really fuck it up.
The crystals on Bev's nightstand, and her mother's bingo apron.
The elevator, with operator, that I rode in with my dad. It was carved wood.
The shoes I wore all through elementary school, it seems, Thom McAnn, with a top that fastened with a clip fashioned into the tongue. The clip would work its way through the "leather" when it was time to get another pair.
Watching the planes land at the old airport.
The quarantine ward on the Queen Mary.
Hitchiking with John, and that girl who picked us up. Hitchiking was fun, so maybe that doesn't count as a useless memory.
The big camera with the well-worn button that they used at the library when I was growing up to record my card and selected books.
Cashiers in the supermarkets, back when they had to put in all the prices. They rocked!
Typing class at the "other" Jr High. The class was held in the cafeteria...A S D F J K L ; AS SAD AS DAD...
The roaches in Kate's apt.
Nelva's screensaver, Emily's plants, Delores's asking what WTF meant. I told her Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, the days when I would deal with the odd problems.
Frederique's huge belly, before the twins.
The funky spiral stairway up to Greg's loft, the deck in Nichols's back yard, the Halloween decorations at CalTech.
Buying Tampons for the president's secretary.
Dining alone in Glendale in a hamburger place run by Asians and seeing a Mexican woman walk in and order one. Nothing beats LA. Similar to the feeling I get whenever I fly back here from most other places and am rewarded with the mob of cultures and languages at our airport.
Kevin's habit of melting butter to pour on pancakes.
The bench seat at the Stier's aunt's house.