What's in the Air?

Certain types of weather and scenes outside my window are like an open invitation to take a stroll down memory lane. Today it was the bright blue sky, cool breeze filtering through the apartment windows, the bright green leaves dappled by the sun's rays, and the comfort of looking out my window at the idyllic images and knowing it was the weekend. Whatever was in the air today, like certain other days, summoned a nostalgia and remembrance of things past. I'm still not sure why this happens every once in awhile, but it usually has to do with clear days, a certain type of crisp, fresh air, and looking out the window.

Blast from the (Educational) TV Past

I'm not sure why this came to mind, but I started thinking about all the high quality educational programming there used to be for kids when I was a toddler and "spring chicken," and I wonder if today's shows for children are equivalent in content and caliber. My favorite programs included Reading Rainbow, Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego, Ghostwriter, Sesame Street, and Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. As far as I know, all of these shows except for Sesame Street have been discontinued, although some reruns may be on PBS from time to time. One of the major problems in maintaining these types of shows on the air is, without a doubt, funding.

What would be today's substitute for my beloved shows of yore? From what I've seen, Blue's Clues appears to be a worthy peer. I don't feel I can say the same for Teletubbies or Barney and Friends, two gag reflex-inducing excuses for shows. When I have little kids, I hope that there will be at least a few viable options for them to watch, be entertained, and learn information in a different visual format, and I also hope they'll be able to look back fondly at the educational programming of their childhood as I can.

Childhood Memories

Two childhood memories that came to me while I was working today:

-I was taking a walk with one of my aunts in Ohio. It was winter and snow covered the ground like a white crispy blanket. I had on a blue puffy coat that went down to my knees and mittens covered my little hands. We were walking along train tracks and there were bare trees extending their bent naked bodies in every direction, creating a crooked, brown, dry maze of branches. As we forged through the maze of tangled wood, I felt a thorn in my mitten. I distinctly remember my discomfort and the pain of the thorn forging its way through my mitten and under my skin, unseen by my eyes. My aunt stopped to help me remove the thorn and we continued on our wintry adventure.

-Some memories are more of a state or a feeling than the memory of an actual event. I often recall the feeling of sitting on the couch in the living room of my family's old apartment on the third floor and listening to the unmistakable sound of a plane making its way through the daytime sky--sky that I saw laid out before me marked with trees, black horizontal power lines, brick houses and other apartment buildings. Despite being extremely urban in nature, I can only describe the feeling evoked by that memory as both calming and comforting. It's funny how a memory so bare and simple can be so cherished.

A Different Kind of Memory

Have you ever had dreams that were so vivid, they made a permanent imprint on your brain? Do you have dreams that become integrated into your memory, as if you had really lived them?

One of my great-aunts had a dream in which her husband was not quite "behaving himself." I suppose the dream was extremely realistic because the following morning my great-aunt proceeded to sock my great-uncle on the arm. I'm sure he was left scratching his head about what he had done to deserve such punishment.

I had a similar dream last night in which my own husband snubbed me to spend a day with Shakira. When I woke up he asked me why I was in such a bad mood and when I told him, he couldn't help laughing at my ridiculous reason for being so cranky.

Although this most recent dream was of the more scandalous persuasion, other dreams that have stuck with me over time have been more benign. One involved climbing down a lush tree with stairs that wrapped around the trunk like a spiral staircase. The tree had rooms inside its trunk which I saw in passing from the outside as I descended. Then I found myself in either a Brazilian or African town with dry brown earth and a market in which I found myself among people with coffee-colored skin milling around in the marketplace and playing soccer.

This dream "clip" and its imagery, in addition to the feeling of adventure and joy that I had as I climbed down the tree stairs, have stayed with me for a long time. I imagine this dream floating in between the file cabinets in my brain labeled "Dreams" and "Memories" because it's really both. In composition it's a dream and as far as I know it never happened (unless it occurred in another reality!), but all the same I still consider it a fond memory.