Herding lost thoughts
How does one recapture what was once bright and obvious but has since lost its luster and faded into the shadows?
One of my uncles works as a radio DJ in Northwestern Iowa. He has a warped sense of looking at things and likes to draw on real-life incidents as inspirations for radio bits. I used the word “inspiration,” because the final product may have nothing to do with what actually happened, it was merely the foundation of the final routine that aired.
It’s interesting to listen to how a bit progresses. The formulation process is easiest seen during the course of a meal where events are likely to occur and/or my uncle has his most captive audience. Drastic recastings of events may be sounded out there alongside tiny nuances that are highlighted or deleted.
Sometimes the true story itself is enough to stand on its own merits, and doesn’t require enhancing, but that isn’t always the case. Thus, it has been interesting to hear the tales of my Harley driving grandmother who leaves mounds of empty beer cans and cigarettes in her wake.
It should go without saying I’ve never seen any of my grandparents light up, slam a can against their forehead, or mount a hog. I have relatives who have, some very close, but not like the alter egos my uncle has created.
I’ve told you that story to tell you this one:
Gathering together in Iowa next to the corn field we all know so well (yes, there is a corn field behind my grandparents’ house. While I hate to perpetuate stereotypes, this is one I cannot deny due to its veracity), everyone in the immediate family came from separate directions, and in some cases, separate vehicles. My disc jockey uncle came a day later than the rest of the family.
When asked how the drive was, he lamented that he had come up with three bits along the way, but hadn’t written them down and no longer could recall them.
I know we can all relate, but I share an even sharper kinship with this feeling as I attempt to reconstruct earlier ideas I planned to write about. Some concepts I make a mental note to remember lasted for years until I put them to paper. Others I am sure I have forgotten without even recollecting something has been missing.
Now I am left with traces, shadows.
How does one recapture what was once bright and obvious but has since lost its luster and faded into the shadows?
The truth is, sometimes you can and sometimes you can’t. They are preserved, they are lost.
I think I can remember the foundation of some, and with enough time, may be able to flesh out the shells of previously forgotten constructs.
We’ll see.
The only other caution I can currently give is be wary of any Harley references.
That’s all for now.
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