First Memories*

Anyone claiming to be able to pinpoint their first memory is full of shit.

OK. Maybe that's a bit harsh, but I'm highly skeptical of their assertion. It appears to me that people are crafting a narrative around their first memory just to be able claim one. It's like when I default to Dr. Strangelove as my favorite movie. I don't necessarily believe it's my favorite, and it's certainly up there, but it's convenient to default to that. My experience with memory is very fluid, with bits and pieces fluttering about my brain. The only way I really differentiate my early memories is by zeroing in on a time period. In this case, it would be the time in the first house I lived in (I can't even remember the address... 215 N 25th Street?). Here's how my memories of that house breakdown:

Things My Parents Have Told Me That Feel Like Memories
These are stories that I've heard so often from my parents that they feel familiar and intimate like memories. Or things that feel familiar from looking at pictures.
-- Wandering out into the snow on in a diaper and climbing to the top of a slide in the backyard.
-- Throwing wet rags at a mirror to help clean it.
-- Sitting on a tree branch only to have it snap and me fall straight to the ground.

Things That I've Temporarily Forgotten That Will Come to Me in the Future Randomly or Being Triggered by Something Related
It's kind of like when you blank on a word or a person's name. It's in there, but it's not ready to reveal itself. Obviously, I have no examples for this category.

Things I Actually Remember But Have No Idea as to the Chronology
Truth be told, I have some idea. Like the time my older sister and I were begging to stay up to watch Roseanne. That happened towards the end of our days at that house. Not a candidate for my first memory, but...
-- Sneaking downstairs in the wee hours of Christmas morn with my older sister and seeing the knock hockey game.
-- My older sister falling down the stairs and hitting her head on the TV.
-- My younger sister falling down the basement stairs only to be saved by me because I was going down in front of her.
-- Trying to make it to a safe place to puke and throwing up while running up the basement stairs.
-- Chasing my older sister up the stairs playing "Land Shark" and her thumb getting caught in the railing and breaking.
-- Racing my sister to the bathroom, losing, being a poor loser and peeing on her.
-- Hiding my medicine under the couch cushions.
-- Climbing up my dresser to get something from on top of it only to have it fall back on me.
-- Jumping off of my top bunk with a friend and knocking the ceiling light out of its fixture and onto the dining room table.
-- My dad getting mad at me for not cleaning my stuff up and throwing my toy jeep against the wall, shattering it.
-- Being terrified of the back room in the basement but knowing dad had clay back there that I wanted to play with.

Yes, for some of these memories, I must have been older than others, but many are interchangeable (also, there's a distinct presence of "bad" things happening in these memories). So as I said, anyone claiming to pinpoint a first memory is full of shit.

*This post is only slightly an excuse to purge some childhood memories. We'll blame my son for making me think of this stuff.

A Brief History of Jokes I Wrote*

First Grade (maybe third): The first joke I ever wrote (probably recalled with better construction than it actually had)

A man sitting on the ground having a picnic farts. Nearby a snake sings, "Feel those good vibrations!"

That's right, my first joke ever was a fart joke. You can't say I haven't always aimed high.

Junior High: Written while I was in the shower (which will become evident)

What do you call a whale with a bowel problem? Shampoo! 

High School: No jokes. Too busy banging chicks! (talking to friends on AIM)

Undergrad: No jokes. Too busy banging chicks (talking to friends on AIM) and gettin' DRUNK! (watching movies) 


The Geologist Years: No jokes. Soul crushed by job.

Graduate School: The birth of the non-joke

Two men walk into a bar. One orders a gin and tonic and the other says, "I'll have what he's having."

Your mama's so fat... I'm really concerned about her health. 

A priest, a rabbi, and an atheist are stranded at sea. The priest and rabbi set aside their differences and pray together for rescue. The atheist says, "I, too, hope for our rescue, though I'll refrain from joining you in prayer."

The Portland Years: The culmination of years of practice.

I'm so good at Pin the Tail on the Donkey, I could do it blindfolded!

If I was lying, you'd know it!

Verily, I'm the voice of a generation. It's a wonder I'm not touring the county (not a misprint) packing them in by the dozens .




*Those worth remembering, at least.