There Is A Distinct Sense Memory For Me When You Discuss Things Like McDonald’s In The Proper Context


I can sit there in a drive-thru for hours and not really think about anything at all, but then the right combinations of smells hit me, and I am six-years-old all over again absolutely in awe of the man-mountain that my father was to meat the age and I can remember details that I would never be able to on any other day.

Counting straws in the backroom in the office in Van Nuys because Ron wanted an accurate count of every little thing that was in the store so he wouldn’t have to put another penny towards anything that he didn’t have to. Hundreds of thousands of the damn things, some of them counted out individually because they were in an open package and Goddess forbid we estimate anything and cost him a tenth of a cent or whatever the wholesale price of the things came out to.

Sitting up on Lyell Ave. during a blizzard with no power counting salad dressing packets with freezing fingers and even at six even the snow was damn near at my shoulder blades from where the wind had pushed the drifts in the parking lot.

Dozens more really, all of them equally as strong. Some of them good, all five of us sitting there at two in the morning laughing about how stupid counting things was, missing school the next day because we had put in ten hours if counting and, well, that’s just the way it was sometimes.

The darker memories come too, but those I leave be, I won’t give them power over me by remembering the extent of the things that the memory entails. I lived through it once, that was more than enough if you want to know the truth.

So when I was sitting in the TOPS parking lot a little while ago talking to Terry and drinking McDonald’s coffee, the only coffee I have ever drunk black and continue to, and the memories hit I didn’t fight the things, I let the pleasant ones wash over me and the negative ones, they were there, I just let them wash right on by.

I went in, spent my money, kind of got my prescriptions and off to home I came to write this thing here and the other things that are coming up a little later in the day.

I don’t know if that means anything, or maybe it was just a fun little thing to think about. Either way, it is over, and so is this.