Thursday, May 26, 2011

random good/happy/content memories

The smell of Claudine's general store, that powdery tangy sweet candy smell meets old wood shelving scent. I used to scrape together change to spend there...a little went a long way, and it was the best retail therapy ever. Cherry Chans, candy buttons, penny gum, Lemon Heads, those giant chewy Sweetarts, whatever those hard-won pennies and dimes could buy me.

A bit later in life: standing outside Claudine's on the pay phone, pumping in coins to call Greg long-distance. Scraped together coins for that one too. Talking away, only to be interrupted by "Please deposit 25 more cents to continue your call" [talk about old-school]. That one embarrassing day I was 25 cents short and had to hang up, only to have the operator ring back to ask for it. I ended up borrowing it from a neighbor who happened to live nearby...I felt horrible.

Lightning bugs. Freshly mown grass. Just rained-on concrete. Coconut suntan oil. Chlorine. Chick-o-sticks. Thunderstorms. Bike rides. Summer.

The smell and sound of the eucalyptus trees around the house in Half Moon Bay. The salty fishy tang of the Pacific, wafting in open windows. The sound of the surf.

Sharing pizza with Dad. Drinking daiquiris with Mom. Dad's tacos, Mom's spaghetti. IGA pizzas. Lawson's subs. Snyder barbeque chips. Those awesome sandwiches that Greg's mom made for him in high school. The pizza squares that dripped grease down your hand. Pepperoni sticks from the Dari Twist. Bloomer's chocolate and coconut haystacks in a big wooden basket. Archway Dutch Cocoa cookies.

Hanging out on Monie's front porch at the yellow house, running around the yard, playing, imagining, being a kid. Those crazy steep steps upstairs at her other place. The deer/forest mural on the wall. Squirrely and Puddles. The pop-up camper. The gravel alleyways, that crunching sound of riding your bike through them. Clotheslines full of laundry.

Working with Doug, trusting him as a friend and manager, loving the team he'd built, being part of it. Following him to two more companies, more teams built, processes created, people met, much learned.

My weird-ass L-shaped cube at Calico...a space that wasn't really good for anything, and I carved it into an awesome little area.

That one spring day in Foster city when I was driving my Cabrio, top down, music blasting [Papa Roach, full volume], making a tight U-turn on Edgewater, feeling content and confident. Not sure what it was about that day, but it really sticks in my head even now.

No trash pickup in Trinway back in the day, so we had to burn trash or take it to the dump. No mail delivery to the house, went up to the post office. If anything was too big for the box, you had to ask the postmaster [or mistress] for it. You knew them by name, they knew you. Man, I loved that feeling of seeing the "parcel too large for box" notice sitting was a little Christmas every time.

Dad at the house in Pacifica, wanting so badly to fix the doorbell. I loved how he took care of me, at the same time acknowledging that I didn't need him to any more. I think he knew that I would try to come up with things for him to help with...I liked it, and I think it made him happy too.

Flying home early from Paris to surprise Mom at work. Major success, many tears, many hugs.

Christmas in Moss Beach, opening a big box from Mom and Dad, seeing Runny Babbit tucked inside. More tears, big smiles.

[ be continued...]

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