Hey old man,
remember me-your past? It's been a while, how have you been? I
would have written sooner but you know how it goes. Time just filled
up with things to do, the way it always does, and then before you
even notice it years have past, so many years. But you'd know that
better than me I suppose.
So what's it like there, in the future? It seems so far away to
me, but I guess it's not really that far is it. Of course you know
that when I was a boy anyone old enough to wear a suit seemed old
to me. They could have been twenty, thirty, forty or fifty, it
didn't seem to make a lot of difference, they were older, and to
me a lot of the time they were simply just old.
When you were a child time was like a vast ocean, you accepted
the passing hours and days without question or thought. They came
and went like waves and tides. Six weeks
of summer holiday used to drag on and on. The days slowed
like music on a walkman with fading batteries. Do you remember
how Christmas Eve would always out stay its welcome? You'd be in
willing yourself to sleep so as to be able to open all those wonderfully
wrapped presents under the tree, but you were too excited. What
could they be? Will you get what you want? Eventually, without
you noticing sleep comes and moments later it's Christmas morning.
You race down stairs and rush into the front room where the
smell of pine needles is thick in the air, one of the benefits
tree. And what a magnificent tree it is too, weighed down with
tinsel, lights and decorations that somehow give it a magical quality
that makes this the best Christmas tree in the world, or at the
very least the best Christmas tree in your world.
So how come that the rainy days were always longer than Christmas
day back then, regardless of how late you were allowed to stay
up. Way past dinner,
way past the family game of 'Trivial pursuit' in which Louise would
always cheat and Mom would shout the answers from the Kitchen as
she clattered about putting things away. Way past Indiana Jones
and The Temple of Doom, way past James Bond with all his wonderful
toys and the wonderful women you only noticed when your voice became
a little deeper. The curtains are closed and the fire is on. The
Christmas diner hangs in the warm heated air with the
sounds of well fed people talking and laughing loudly late into
over too soon, wasn't it old man?
It's funny how the moments you remember, that stick in your
mind for years after, can be so utterly random. Like
let you sit in the front seat when he drove you home in his little
orange mini. And how the indicators made a noise like an
antique metronome as a green light flashed below the overemphasized
speedometer that was positioned in the center of the dashboard
unlike any other
car you'd seen.
"Why do the indicators make that noise Granddad?"
The stiff suspension of the little car made the road feel fun,
like bumper cars at the fair.
"So I know when I'm turning." he answered as we stopped at the
The explanation seemed so logical
at the time.
How come these random moments stay so locked in. They're not life
changing poignant moments, they're not even that special, but
somehow through the years these images have remained flawless.
Like walking home from Chelmsford town centre with my Mom as she
sister along the 'Bunny's walk' pathway in a stroller. It was a
hot clear afternoon in 1979 and I had just bought a tape player
for fourteen pounds from Boots. A flat black tape recorder with
chunky buttons, the type where you had to press play and record
together to record something.
--- Article Notes ---
Time of death : 15:51 (Nov 14, 2004)
I had fully intended to complete this 'meanwhile' at a later stage.
But as with so many 'later stages' it never happened and so after
many months of living on literary life support I decided to turn
of the ventilator and let this 'meanwhile' pass away peacefully.