Things that should be buried deep in my memory keep resurfacing lately. Very recently I asked here about a movie that I had seen as a teenager that no one but me seemed to remember.
Someone very nicely asked at a movie database site and reassured me that I was not losing my mind.
I just told my daughter I really wanted a Marathon Bar. She didn’t know what I was talking about and frankly, I don’t know why that came out of my mouth either.
My husband mentioned that Pam Greer did a lot of prison movies and I said “Like the show Prisoner of Cell Block H?” He didn’t know what this T.V. show was, and my hubby has a long memory and is significantly older (well, 6 years) than I.
I told a co-worker to dance like Hot Gossip. Blank stare. From the Kenny Everet Show. Blanker stare.
I greeted a friend of mine with “Aloha Bobby and Rose!” His name is Bob, yet I don’t know why this movie is floating around the front part of my brain!
I’m going to die soon. This is my life passing before my eyes and it’s showing me what a wasted, pitiful life it has been.
I used to eat Marathon bars, I watched “Prisoner Cell Block H” when it came on after Benny Hill on channel 50, and if I could dance at all, I would dance like Hot Gossip for you.
We may die soon BG, but at least we can keep each other company.
I can assure you that yes one day you will die, along with all the rest of us. No life is wasted unless you think it is. We have had the chance to meet you on this message board and enjoy your company. So does that mean we have wasted our time because you think your life has been wasted? I don’t think so.
Ultress, I know I’m going to die, it’s the soon part that I’m worried about. Why are these things surfacing now? I’ve lived a good 25 to 30 years without remembering this stuff.
:::goes off singing Dr. Buzzard’s Original Savanah Band’s Che Che La Femme to herself.
“pitiful” Non? M’dear, you should be proud of your life, you’re married, have a good hubby, and a daughter and a good family in general. Don’t dwell on it, everyone’s life will end sooner or later - make the best of it and live for the rush!
Thanks. Thank you very much, Biggirl. Now I have that dopey song in my head!!!
Which also means that, sigh, I too remember stuff like that, so join the crowd. We’re here to keep you company, and be entertaining in that mundane, pointless sort of way. You probably just had some minor instance in your life that caused you to become nostalgic, and that has triggered off a slow but steady flow of memories.
:: walks off thinking about Bomb Pops, Wonderama, Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show, Thunderbirds, Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots, and Charleston Chews. ::
Ok biggirl you cannot die, I don’t want to have to put $1 in the flower fund.
Did you have one of those machines which you made insects with? You know with the goop you put in molds and the thing heated them and then you had rubber bugs.
Ah afternoons spent watching My Favorite Martian and what was that show, I think maybe it was named Its About Time, it was about two guys who go back to caveman times, comedy. The theme song said: “Its about time, its about space Its about a prehistoric place.”
Yes, those were the days
“one small step for man one giant leap for mankind”
Not only did I not know the French word cherchez which is understandable since I’m not French, nor do I speak it-- but I spelled Savannah wrong, which I have no excuse for since I speak English.
Hey, I hear the words to Lady Marmalade are really racy. What do they say besides “do you want to go to bed with me?”
When I was younger I thought Dawn: Portrait of a Teenage Runaway was romantic. I was a crazy, mixed-up child.
Naw, Biggirl, you are just having a nostalgia attack. Probably something to do with the holidays coming.
(This time of year, you can pretty much blame ANYTHING on the holidays coming, and people just nod wisely. This is almost a license to misbehave, but I digress…)
If you remember when the telephone was invented, THEN you can be sure you are going to die. Or already have. Or something. Or…Oh, nevermind.
Cheer up! It is time to start worrying when you can’t remember your children’s names, or your husband’s name, or how much you love them.
