Memory is a strange trail to find myself on, as I’m sure it is for everyone. My brain hurts when I think too hard about the past, I struggle to recall yesterday’s meal, and then I say to-hell-with-it and focus on the now and present. Making a list of memories wasn’t easy, but a prompt calls for action, so let’s do this thing.

I’ve moved quite a bit during my youth, from the Ohio Valley, to the rolling hills of wild West Virginia to, well, Pennsylvania where I live now, and certain (most) memories seem to slip and fall between the linings. To start, here’s my list of random, memorable moments:

List of Ten Memories

1) My first date.

2) Playing Mass Effect.

3) Beating Bioshock.

4) Drowning in Manure.

5) Opening Night: White Christmas.

6) Breaking my Fingers.

7) Watching Interstellar. (yes, the really long Nolan space opera)

8) Maybe my earliest real memory.

9) The Hofbrauhaus in Munich.

10) Seeing Endgame.

I want to take some of these individual memories, two for now, and rapidly and roughly dissect some highlighted senses—the love, the trauma, the more love, the more trauma, and so on. After this, I’ll work it into the theme of my blog, songwriting, and attempt to compose some poorly-thought-out, sort-of-inspiring scores to fit some of these moments in my life; like a mixtape from the early 90’s or a Hans Zimmer soundtrack but with less terrifying undertones. Let’s start with my first date with the wonderful person I’m still dating after 6 years.

Eat’n Park. Mid-High School. Later evening. Autumn. Kind of cloudy. Light chill outside and in. My mid-puberty. Late puberty? Still puberty? Large eyes. Nervous laughter. An overabundance of excitement but mostly nausea. Happy. Risky. Worth everything. She’s wearing a grey hoodie that used to be mine, classic rock overhead from the restaurant always-a-bit-too-loud speakers, the smell of scrambled eggs, steamy tea, sweat, a feeling that everything may crash, a feeling that everything will finally be better than alright. Movie begins at the cinema. “Prisoners” starring Hugh J. and Jake G. It’s a highly intense and graphic thriller. Uh-oh. We didn’t know that. More sweating. Attempts at hand-holding go south due to the previously mentioned uncoordinated sweat. Smell of over-buttered popcorn. The clean and misty smell of Sprite. Leaves are morphing outside. Billy Joel on the car ride home. Just noticed she smells like vanilla bean. Just noticed I probably still smell like sweat. Forgot I left the flowers in the trunk. Too long. Too short. The almost-missed nose-kiss at the door. Battle cry all the way home.

Next, when I almost drowned in manure.

The undomesticated, wild hills of Parkersburg, West Virginia. 10-years-old. Andrew is 11. Bright brown and green all over the world.  Summertime smell of freshly mown grass, the hot breeze, and jeans that needed washing. Cameo bandannas are on. Backpacks are stacked with necessities—peanut butter, chocolate bars, apples, wooden sword strapped in, potato chips, and wrappers of other chocolate bars from yesterday. 8am. Playtime. Time to be a superhero. I’m Cap today. He’s Thor/Iron-Man/Wolverine. 5 miles in, following the creek. Its bitter-cold water makes us clammy, thus, we feel badass and boyish yet whiny. Sun is almost overhead now. Plastic revolver clings to the hip. Reached the fence. Successfully mounted it after 3 embarrassing tries. Wring out our bandannas. We reach the farmland. A bright white flower waits in the center of the brownish field. Interesting thing! I run toward it. Andrew hollers and chases. Then, we begin to sink. Newly fertilized field. It smells like poo. Sinking in shit. Shitty way to die. We are stupid little shits. Drowning, crawling, screaming. This is it. What a ride! A full 10 years! Andrew, being taller, grabs me and heaves. Myself, being smaller, grabs him and screams. We make it to the gravel road along the field. We’re about to throw up. We feel epic. We look like shit. Shotgun fires. A boisterous and booming voice travels our way. The farmer is awake. Time to run 5 miles home. Our moms make us take showers.