I remember many years ago, sixty or seventy, to be exact, Summer, load the car, head out in the Packard Clipper toward Michigan. A two day trip in those days. Stop at a little country store around noon, get their trial bologna in a ring, some Nabisco crackers, fig newtons, Cokes, some yellow cheese, cut from the block, and eat outside on an old picnic table. Delicious. That is the thing that memories are made of, just little incidents, but they stay with you for the rest of your life.
I still do that, on occasions, the bologna,, crackers, fig newtons with a coke, some yellow cheese, and a flood of memories come to mind. That incident from years ago is probably one of the most vivid in my mind, just a casual stop on the way to a vacation in Michigan.
I guess our life is made up of those incidents, sometimes they get pushed back into the recesses of our minds, but some little thing can occur to bring it all back. The "unconscious" to the "conscious." Shades of L.Ron Hubbard and his Dianetics.
One of my first opportunities to drive the family occurred in that old Packard Clipper. I think we were in Canada, had taken a trip East, and headed North, up above Niagara Falls, and took that road that shot across Canada. Dad let me drive, I had my learners permit. I remember one right angle curve, had my foot on the accelerator rather than the break. Really zipped around that curve. Dad suggested I learn under other circumstances.
