Have you ever been slapped in the face by a memory? It doesn't have to be a negative or a painful memory, but a reminder that you couldn't overlook?
Last week I was "slapped" by a joyful and silly memory, and it got me thinking. I've been meaning to tell you about it, so here we go...
I was pulling the car out of the driveway to go pick the girls up from school when I saw three middle-school-aged kids riding their bikes past the house. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume they were done with their virtual classes for the day.
We were all going in the same direction so I slowed down as they rode down the street several yards ahead of me. As they approached a stop sign at an intersection of quiet backroads, they looked in all directions but didn't make a complete stop.
Not a care in the world! Ah - the good ole days of pandemic-required quarantined virtual schooling! (Does that even make sense? Oh well, moving on.)
Anyway, as they continued on their way, the biker in the middle of her two friends looked to her right to watch the young boy swerve around in a circular pattern on the cross street, and as she did so she rode her bicycle directly into a parked mail truck.
I, without hesitation, laughed out loud in my car for a few different reasons.
Not only was I laughing at this young girl because I had been that girl before, but I was laughing because, after her front tire bounced her back a bit, her first instinct was to get out her cell phone and text? Tweet? Take a selfie?
Who knows? I didn't stick around long enough to find out.
Oh, how times have changed!
As I drove by, I did, however, take a peek to verify whether the truck's driver was inside at the time. Nope. Off delivering people catalogues, election materials, and bills.
In the late-1980s, I was traveling down my street to see if my neighbor friend was home. She lived at the bottom of the hill so I inconspicuously rode past to see if there were signs of life at their house or in their driveway. If no one was out and about, I'd just head back home, likely stopping halfway up the hill to walk my bike because I was lazy then, too.
This is the same hill, and the same friend's house - in fact - that I bit it riding my bike past a few years prior. A fall which required three stitches in my knee. A scar I still rock today.
As I rode by, I didn't see any thing so I continued on for a bit and then turned around.
Nothing to see here. I'm just taking a leisurely ride around my neighborhood. I'm not spying on my neighbors at all.
On my return pass, I looked again. Maybe I had missed someone waving from their bedroom window or from the swing set in their the backyard.
DOOF!
I rode my bike directly into the back of a parked car.
I instantly looked around and confirmed that no one had seen me...or, at least, that no one was in the car or laughing from their front lawn. I guarantee that someone had been watching me from their front window and still laughs about it to this day. To them - probably the Connors or the Drudis - I say "You're welcome".
In that moment a few weeks ago, I laughed because I was that girl. No, I wasn't carrying a cell phone around with me while biking, but only because cell phones didn't exist yet.
I remember the color of the car. I remember how my face instantly flushed and I got hot with embarrassment. I remember making sure there was no damage to the car. I remember how quickly I got the heck out of there. I remember how I started smiling to myself before reaching the next house.
This young girl's friends were there and began laughing along with her and I'm sure it's a memory they'll share for years to come. Remember that time we were riding our bikes and you drove right into the side of the mail truck...and that crazy lady at the stop sign was totally watching the entire time and smiling?
It's interesting to see first hand how the same minor incident has changed over the past 30 years.
I'm not 100% sure I've ever told a soul about my mishap on Edgewood Road that day. I grew up in an environment where mishaps were things you could laugh about and leave right there on the side of the road.
Kids these days are growing up in an environment where they'll be reminded of this mishap year after year because social media will remind them of all their posts from this date for many years to come.
There's no more hiding. It's all out there for all to see.
Thank God I grew up when I did, amiright?
