Memories Streaming Live

Memories are such a strange and fickle thing.

Oh, you’d think that they are meant to serve us

as a reminder of what to do and not to do. And,

to some extent in learning our lessons as we

move on through life, that is true. The boiling pot

is hot and will burn you unless handled with care.

I knew a veteran of Vietnam who when passing a

Vietnamese restaurant in Denver caught the

wafting aroma of that country’s cuisine. Imme-

diately and unexpectedly he was taken back to

the traumatic war-torn time in his life. Memories,

the good and the bad streaming constantly in

our minds waiting for a sensory signal to con-

sciously arise. Why the other day on TV, I heard

the clippity-clop of a horses hooves on the hard-

ened surface of a concrete street. I was taken back

to a childhood memory of some 65-years past—

The junk man who came through our neighbor-

hood once a month, an old black man with his old

rickety wooden wagon drawn by an old sway-back,

black nag with blinders on—Clippity clop! Clippity-

clop! For the remainder of my days, I shall never

forget such a lovely sight and sound. And I six-years

old standing street-side smiling and waving as they

passed. Clippity-clop!

Chris Hanch 3-4-19