I don’t want to be a person who lives in the past. I want to embrace today and tomorrow as best I can. However, forgetting the past and either its trials or triumphs would be rather unfair and probably unwise.
Today, I got a chance to spend a bit of time walking around my Alma Mater under a sunny blue sky. While it has changed quite a bit, I still found enough remnants of my past to provoke a lot of memories. Some of these memories can only be shared with the people involved–that’s only fair– but there are some which I can divulge. They are in no special order, and more stream of conscious than anything else.
I saw the Barenaked Ladies play at the spoke one night after giving blood. The great songs and wonderful stage present of the (for that show) duo was fun and interesting. Of course drink specials and less blood didn’t hurt.
I also saw The Pursuit of Happiness and Crash Vegas play live. If you have never heard of these bands, I suggest a quick trip to YouTube to check them out. You don’t know what you’re missing.
I watched that incredible Japanese animated film Akira in an repertory cinema near campus. They showed three or four different movies a week. It was my first grasp of how international cinema could be. I think I even ran into my French Lab teacher Veronique there while watching La Femme Nikita.
I bought the backpack that travelled the world with me from an army surplus store somewhere downtown. That backpack lasted almost twenty years and I think I could have gotten a replacement if I knew where to send it.
That tiny dorm room with that ever so comfortable furniture. Not to be outdone by that affordable student rental with deluxe carpet and slightly functioning mailbox–whose neighbours we met too late and under the wrong circumstances.
I met some amazing people who I am still in contact with. Outside of my Japan experience, I can’t say that about anywhere else.
I remember slow dancing to A Whiter Shade of Pale in a rather crowded basement bar. I also remember “singing” backup on Brown-Eyed-Girl. I have been told that I fell off the stage that night when I went back for an encore–but I don’t remember that.
I remember the weekend of four fire alarms. I wonder why bothered ever going back inside. It probably had something to do with strict drinking rules in Canada.
I went to a spoken word night and listen to Jello Biafra speak out against everything from not legalizing marijuana to Gulf War trading cards.
The first time I ever cooked for a woman on a date was in my residence building there. Though it really didn’t turn out the way I hoped, and that date is a long gone memory, the one thing I do remember was that the food was awesome.
There are so many memories. I could go on for a long time, but if you’ve managed to read this far, you’ve probably had enough.
If you haven’t guessed, this little tour that so powerfully evoked my memory is Today’s Perfect Moment