Memories

     Yes I ate it.  I was at Walmart.  I was hungry.  I had $1.75 in cash.  I have not had a McDonald's cheeseburger probably since 1980 when I worked at McDonalds.  It tasted the exact same as back then.  As I bit into the cheeseburger it took me back to my McDonalds days.  It was my first real job.  I quickly climbed up to the coveted "drive thru" position.  Back then, we had to add up the totals (no computers), so one of the jobs in drive thru when we were not busy was to check the cashier's math on the tickets.  Such power we wielded.  My manager liked me and suggested several times that I should go the McDonald's management school.  I laughed at him and always replied, "I am not working at McDonalds the rest of my life!"  Back then, we were the only restaurant that had a playground so we did a lot of birthday parties.  One day the "birthday party" girl called in sick so I was asked to take her place.  The kids loved me and so did the parents.  They started requesting me specifically.  After about the tenth one, I went to my supervisor and said, "Listen, I don't want to do birthday parties.  The reason I got this job was so I didn't have to babysit brats anymore, and having to babysit 10-15 brats at a time for 2 hours is not my idea of fun."  He took me off the birthday party schedule.  When I look back, he was a good manager, I learned a lot from him, and he must have seen something in me, because I have been in manager's positions for the last ten years.  

     It is amazing how just a smell can take you back in time.  I opened up a bottle of wine the other day, and it smelled like a cabin I used to visit.  It was a very pleasant memory.  I tried to discern the smell, old wood, wood polish, varnish, musty.  The wine was bad, I could not drink it, but I was happy for the memory.  Memories are what hold us together.  We keep them safe within ourselves, until we dare to share them with someone who will accept them, laugh with us or cry along with us. Writing this takes me back to a Paul Anka song, "Times of Your Life".  I pulled it up on You Tube,and cried while listening to it.  I haven't heard that song in probably 20 years, but yet, knew all the words and felt the same emotions.  Funny thing is, each moment is a memory in the making.  And these days we are able to keep those memories clearer with cameras on our phones and sharing applications such as Facebook, Instagram and others.  And why do we share our memories?  Is it because we wish our families and friends were there to enjoy the moment or is it a shout out to the World, "I am here, I exist, I am real".?