Posts Tagged ‘Nothing Ever Happens’

Gone And Forgotten

May 2, 2017

I own a lot of stuff. I try not to overdo it and purchase crap I don’t really need or want but over the years I’ve accumulated tons of stuff from comic books to clothes to VHS tapes to Tupperware. Some stuff can be found in boxes and amount to little more than memories (grade school report cards), memorabilia (concert ticket stubs) and mishigas (my junior high retainer). Some stuff is on display (Hello Kitty plush) and in closets (board games) and in drawers (my POGs). And although I don’t read or touch or ponder most of these things on a regular basis I am aware of them, at least distantly. They hold fond memories or are pleasing to the eye or provide comfort or appreciate in value even as they sit unattended in my spare room. But today – tonight – just a few hours ago – I realized there was an item I’d completely forgotten about. Didn’t realize I ever bought it and could have sworn I didn’t own it. Had you asked to borrow it yesterday I would have told you to talk to someone who had one or gave a crap or something. But now… looking through a shoebox of odds and ends from my first apartment, there it was. Damn, I feel bad. 25 years of neglect and ignorance and what I’m sure, if it were a child, would amount to a pretty good case for social services. I know it’s an inanimate object but still … not to have given it a second’s thought since, I’m guessing 1991 … I just feel bad about it. Like when I forgot to feed the goldfish when I was 8 (still feeling bad about that).

So let me issue an apology to my cassette tape of Del Amitri’s 1989 release, Waking Hours, featuring their hit single, Kiss This Thing Goodbye, and my personal favorite, Nothing Ever Happens. You may have escaped my memory for over two decades but I can guarantee you I will not ignore you in the future. In fact, I’ll even listen to you – for the first time since the first Bush administration! Yeah, that’s right. It’ll be as if we never parted and I was still in my 1984 Toyota Tercel and you in my tape deck (not factory installed) as we cruised down the highway on our way to the big city and big dreams. Sign. Big failed dreams.

Oh well. back in the box. Another 25 years won’t kill you.