Pete Rose Bowling

It’s amazing how certain memories stick with you. Now, of course, all of the major ones are there, tucked away in the folds of my brain; my kids being born, asking my wife to marry me and much of the time I spent with Pedro. But while those obvious ones remain fresh and full, the rest is a very surprising hodgepodge.

For example, let’s consider my high school graduation. It seems like a fairly monumental event, one worth remembering. I got nothing. I honestly can’t remember if it was inside or outside, nor where it took place. I remember my college graduation, but only in snippets. I mostly remember pulling out a fat stogie and walking across the stage to give the college president a big hug, that, and I think it was sunny.

To my credit, I do remember some of my wedding, but many of the details are lost to the simple fact that it was oppressively hot.

I find it most amazing how many trivial and insignificant events in life my seem to have permanently embedded themselves in my mind, perhaps even supplanting those more important memories. I can vividly remember the awe and freedom I felt when my aunt told me I was old enough to just go and grab a pop, instead of asking for permission every time. I revel in two memories in which objects were somehow projected out of a dorm room window. In the first, I can see my self walking up to Andy Guffey and aiming a Nerf gun at him. He turned in his chair and saved himself from an awful fate by warning me that the dart would fall out of the nearby, open window. I silently agreed and turned the gun on myself, swoosh, the air powered dart bounded off my temple and out the window. The second was premeditated. Andy and I giddily ran up to a ninth floor dorm room whose resident had volunteered the services of its window. We crowded around the opening and let our hero fall, Captain Adventure. The little plastic man, aided by a stiff updraft and the plastic parachute that was tied to his back, shot up above the top of the building before floating down and across the road. We quickly ran down the nine flights of stairs after him. We found him in the nearby parking garage, huddled under the back tire of a car. He had obviously crawled into that shelter to avoid the frigid snow and cold outside.

I remember that, but I have no recollection of the first time I dropped Andrew off at daycare. I would expect that would have been traumatic and significant to remember.

Some of life’s menial memories have been supported by visual aids. I have a picture of a giant Hostess cupcake cake through which I remember the first birthday ‘party’ Mollie threw for me. And then there is a video somebody took on their phone of me ‘Pete Rose’ bowling; aptly named because the style resembles Mr. Rose charging headlong into home plate. It is a technique that Andy often struggled with, but as the video shows, I have perfected. Have I piqued your interest? You can watch the very short (and grainy) video on youtube. (Watch it!) If you listen carefully, you can hear Mollie calling me safe – she’s the one in orange.