On Saturday I attended the last day of the Route 66 Exhibit at the La Quinta Museum. I experienced a lot of yesteryear nostalgia and felt a bit melancholy for having even existed through that many decades of this particular road's golden era.
It occurred to me that each individual is their own museum, too. We store away memories only to be discovered once again at some future date in the attic of our minds. Perhaps in the future we will only need to hit some sort of 'replay' button in order to experience whatever memory we choose; much like we can do with recorded music of today. Perhaps we will be able to manipulate the outcome scenario of the memory, as well, to be in accordance with what we desired of that experience in the fist place. One can only hope.
Something occurred on this date 1/3 of my life ago that I wish I could entertain the thought of being able to change the outcome of. But alas, I am a mere slave to the memory, only. It's permanently etched in to my soul and luckily I can still replay, remember and treasure the record of its essence whenever I so desire for the rest of my life if I wish...simply by pulling it out of my memory bank like a book selected from library shelf.
YANNI...TO THE ONE WHO KNOWS
