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It is not hard to think of dozens of things we do, eat, or listen to for reasons other then the connection they provide to the past. Holiday traditions are an excellent example of this; cranberry sauce that maintains the shape of the can, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, pickled herring, capozzelli (lamb’s head for you non-Italians), lutefisk (cod soaked in lye for you non-Scandinavians). Each one of us can attest to the items that hit our table during celebrations that either sit untouched for the entire meal or are consumed under great amounts of protest. Holiday after holiday, year after year, we muster up the courage to cook and consume a variety of foods because somehow the holiday would not be the same without them. The comfort and consistency we find in these items and remind us of our past and connect us to family and strangers alike.
Time goes by, years fly, generations pass and after a while no one remembers why we streak campus on the day of the first snowfall, watch the mind-numbing Yule log burning bright on channel 11, haze underclassmen with duct tape and cans of shaving cream, toilet paper and parade around school on the last day of class, or wear an unflattering shade of white in our weddings. We simply do these silly, crazy or disgusting things because others; extended family, friends of friends of friends, distinguished alumni, and random people from distant history, established the traditions and laid the path to follow long before we were even blips on the radar screen of life.
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So here I sit, listening to a radio program because it connects me to a time long ago when life often had me stranded in a car or a hotel room far away from home yearning for a little company; Delilah provided that company. What began as means to get me through long drives turned into a personal ritual anytime work sends me far from home. It is the same reason I dye eggs at Easter although I hate my eggs hard boiled, blow out candles when I would rather blow past a birthday, wrestle with tangled Christmas lights when it is 20 below outside, and recite the traditional lord’s prayer even when a church uses the modern version; the more things change, the more important it is do some things the same. As the late Deborah Kerr said in “An Affair to Remember,” “Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories,” and many memories are warmer when shared repeatedly with others over the course of a lifetime.
2 comments:
I'm not quite sure how a rusty cherry-red 1983 Toyota Tercel wrapped in streamers relates to tradition, but I can definitely see how an old photograph can instantly connect you with memories from what seems like another lifetime!
(as for what a hairy foot and duct-tape bound girl connects me with... I'll get back to you after I speak with my lawyer)
Is this the Mike I think it is (The one who owns the aforementioned Toyota Tercel)? If so, Wow, how are you doing? Email me!
Of course this photo is linked to tradition... generations of Seniors at CPHS have covered their cars in streamers and put fear into the hearts of the townspeople while driving those cars around on the last day of class. I tried to scan a photo of our toilet papering genius but my cheap camera from HS didn't pick up such a good shot at 5:00am.
As for the hairy foot duct taping me... that was college; Junior Ring Week.
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