Childhood Memories Lost

So what do you do when you've just moved offices, but have no internet or network access at the new office? Why, blog, of course. I was always told there are no stupid questions, only stupid answers. Well, THAT... was a stupid question. AND a stupid answer, ironically. Pressing on...

This may be one of the saddest posts you'll read today [or the next fifteen minutes, whichever comes first]. If there are tissues in the vicinity, have them at the ready. If no tissues are to be had, sleeves will work just fine. If you're not wearing sleeves, try your neighbor's... I'm sure they won't mind. If they do mind, however, then it may be time to reconsider how you pick your neighbors.

While I could play that out even further, I'll move on for the sake of time. I'm no psychologist, but I have a theory on personal development. That theory is this: much of who we are is shaped in our childhood. Specifically, in high school and college. And like you, I'm sure, I have so many memories from both stages of life - some good, some bad, some frightening... but most humiliating.

I was saddened recently as I took a drive down memory lane - which, incidentally, is a figurative street name referring to West Thompson and High School Roads in Indianapolis, and Rudisill Blvd. in Fort Wayne. It was on this literal drive, or drives, when I discovered that most of all I knew in those formative years has been completely destroyed - wiped from the face of the earth, much like Alderaan was reduced to a meteor shower by the Death Star. While I don't believe the Empire was behind the erasing of my childhood, it was a dark force at work, in deed.

The hidden gully I discovered as a child - one which could only be accessed by traversing through a drainage culvert, has been cruelly deforested, leaving it exposed for the whole world to see. The hallowed halls of my high school were leveled to make way for a newer, better one. As I toured this alleged improved facility, I struggled to remember what my high school hallways had looked like only fifteen years ago. As if that wasn't enough, the college campus where I was instructed in my calling, met my wife, and grew into a responsible young adult, was sold. It is a college no more.

So much of what has shaped me into the person I am is gone. Memories are all I have left... and those are slowly being replaced by movie quotes and Facebook statuses.

If I said anything at all, I said too much.

NOTE: I feel I owe the reader an explanation that while my work computer is trapped at the aforementioned office awaiting it's internet and network connection, I stole away to a local coffee shop with my home computer. So, if you've been perplexed as to how blogging is possible under the conditions stated earlier, now you know. And knowing is half the battle.