Memory Maker

I get nostalgic over mildew. Well, more accurately, I get nostalgic over the smell of old buildings, which is largely caused by mildew. It sounds strange, I know, but if you have ever been to or lived in the South, particularly if all your warm, fuzzy grandparent memories fall squarely on the Confederate side of the Mason-Dixon Line, you know what I’m talking about. It is so damp there so much of the time, being as close to a tropical climate as that area is, that kudzu flourishes, humidity is queen, and every building material with the possible exception of the ubiquitous red brick is doomed to the kind of deterioration that makes old buildings smell like old buildings. My grandmother once sent me a box of family history paperwork that I have yet to photocopy because when I open the box, I still get a moment of being in Tennessee when that old-building attic aroma sneaks out. I’ve heard many times that scent is the sense most closely aligned with memory. I don’t know if that is generally scientifically accurate, but I do know it is true in my personal history. It is not unusual for me to stop what I’m doing until I can identify whatever is causing me to experience a “scent memory.” And to make everyone else stop with me. In Al Perkins’ The Nose Book, we get to see all the good things about having a built-in nostalgia device. Appreciating old buildings is my favorite.

P.S. Happy Birthday, Grandpa! I miss you more than you could ever know.

http://www.amazon.com/Bright-Early-Books-Beginning-Beginners/dp/0394806239

http://www.librarything.com/author/perkinsal

The Golden Coast

“Baywatch” ruined my life. Well, actually, beliefs like the ones perpetuated and celebrated by popular artifacts like “Baywatch” ruined my life. Maybe not ruined, exactly, but definitely made harder. You see, it’s not easy to be a flat-chested, melanin-challenged brunette in a Malibu Barbie world. And nobody lets you forget it. Especially when you travel away from California. When I used to spend my summers in Tennessee with my grandparents, the locals would get all excited (as evidenced by literally announcing it in the paper) about the idea of a genuine beach bunny hopping on over to Lynchburg…and then look over my shoulder when we were introduced trying to find her. Not that I didn’t look familiar to these people--there was always a cousin Rebecca in Idaho or Mary in Kansas who was my spittin’-image twin--just not like the Hollywood pictures in their heads. Just once I would have loved to have one person, a single soul, say, “Oh, that makes so much sense!” when meeting me and finding out my home state, rather than, “Really? I would never have guessed.” But it does work both ways. When I traveled to Chicago for the first time, I was terrified of all the crime I would encounter and tucked money in ten different places, including both my shoes. Which proved completely unnecessary. In Marjorie Weinman Sharmat’s Gila monsters meet you at the airport, an East Coast boy gets a big surprise when he travels West. And yes, there are brunettes here.

http://www.amazon.com/Gila-Monsters-Airport-Reading-Rainbow/dp/0689713835

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marjorie_W._Sharmat

Voices From The Past

I am fascinated by the science of retrieving sound waves from wherever they go after they hit the air and dissipate. Since waves don’t end but keep spreading out, any sound ever made is technically still out there waiting to be rounded up and heard again. That’s incredible. It means, among other things, that if we could refine the science enough, we could literally hear epic moments like the Gettysburg Address or re-experience sweet, personal exchanges like a baby cooing. How eerie yet thrilling would it be to stand in a field in Pennsylvania and hear Abraham Lincoln’s actual voice brought back to life by modern technology corralling scattered sound waves? But, in some ways, I don’t think we need to wait for those advances. Have you ever been somewhere and heard the echoes of the past? Not specific words, maybe, but whispers of sound that seem to linger. In Chattanooga, Tennessee, there is a massive natural stronghold of great tactical benefit during the Civil War. The army that controlled Lookout Mountain, with its towering height and expansive view, was in a position of virtually impenetrable superiority, and as such it was the scene of fierce fighting. At the base of the mountain, if you stand very still and listen very carefully, the wind still carries the sounds of long ago. It is haunted. In Walt Disney Production’s The Haunted House, Mickey and friends are hearing things. I wonder if it would help to know it’s just trapped sound waves.

P.S. Enjoy your book, Little Rhys!

http://www.amazon.com/HAUNTED-HOUSE-Disneys-Wonderful-Reading/dp/039492570X

http://www.earlymoments.com/Our-Products/Disney-Book-Club/