Time on a logarithmic scale

 That is a good video, Elvis. 

I have heard that time is perceived in a logarithmic scale.  The younger we are, the longer time takes.  The older we are it seems everything goes by really fast.  Sad thing is that the older we are, the less details we remember from our time as children. 

I remember in seventh grade, Ms McElligot, our teacher, spoke about keeping a diary.  A diary of just little things we like to write because later on we will get to know ourselves better as we grow older.  She may also have been the person who introduced me to time in a logarithmic scale.  I have never been good at keeping diaries and frankly the only reason I remember is because I liked Ms McElligot (later Ms Murray) very much.  And, I thought she was very nice looking.  She would wear short skirts and all the time the guys would sometimes drop their pencil, just to have to pick it up as she passed by.  I only realized much later why they would drop their pencil.  

She would give us an assignment where she would make us answer one question on one page.  The question could be a very general question or something more specific.  I frankly do not even remember the questions.  I do know I liked the assignment.  In part because it made me think.  And, I had to think in English.  I would love to have the stuff I wrote from that time, just to get to know myself better. Right now, I barely remembered who it was that gave us those assignments.  Only after thinking about it for a while, I remembered it was her.  After thinking a little while longer I remembered more specifics about her.  Funny, I do not remember the assignments in detail.  

I remember once, I was going in to school.  I was walking around classroom 6-1 at Sts. Peter and Paul and ran into her as we both came in. And she asked me something about what I had written in my assignment.  I did not even know where she was getting her information from. What she said was very kind.  She said she wanted me to write more because she could tell that I enjoyed it.  She also asked me to write not using cursive but to print.  She could understand it better.  Funny, the whole class had to write in cursive.  I had a special dispensation of some type.  I could use block letters.  

She was right, I did enjoy writing those.  I kind of wish I would have kept them. 

I now appreciate whoever said that time actually goes by on a logarithmic scale.  Thinking back to my first seven years of conscious life, I do remember things taking a lot longer than they seem to now.  Thinking back on the most recent seven years, it seems that time is going by too fast.  

Be well everyone,  

Fight on LaSalle. 

Moose

This class had a soundtrack.

 

“A long long time ago, I can still remember how the music used to make me smile….”  Upon hearing these words we are immediately thinking about English class at ILS and we are listening to the History of Rock and Roll under the guidance of Mary Jo Walsh or Robert Koziol. In fact, during our last exchange of emails there were more of us reminiscing about this class than any other one. This class had a soundtrack.  

We hear Blue Moon (pa pa pa pa….blue moon….) we go back to Albert Carballosa, Manny Fernandez, Victor, Rocky and Albert surrounded by beautiful ladies singing on the left side of the stage dressed in 50s garb. We do not just remember it; we are practically there. The ILS fight song played with kazoos, or anything played with a kazoo, reminds me of Karmen Knievel driving the school bus taking the band to play at a halftime show at the cafetorium at ILS. And, the band doing a choreographed halftime show in the halls of the cafetorium. Listen to Stairway to Heaven…back to English Class discussing the phrase: “And she is buying the stairway to heaven.”  I hear “She Came in Through the Bathroom Window” from the B-side of Abbey Road and I remember Elvis discussing with Mr. Koziol the meaning of the phrase: “But now she sucks her thumb and wanders/By the banks of her own lagoon.” Mr. Koziol and Elvis had a difference of opinion on the meaning of that verse. I bet not even Elvis remembers this.

Music to me has always been a reminder of where I have been. I mostly remember beautiful times with family or friends. Anything that is sad I tend to forget the music playing. If I hear the “Revealing Science of God,” from Tales of Topographic Oceans I am in the car of my great friend Rocky. He is taking me to school and that is the song that is playing. Except that only one channel was working. When I hear the song in stereo, it just does not sound right…or was it left? If I hear anything by Alanis Morrisette, my daughter is 15 years old again and in ILS herself. I miss my daughter living at home. Many songs remind me of these times, with all my children living at home.  Listening to the finale of Suor Angelica and I and mom are sitting in front of a small tv screen in abuela’s bedroom, intently listening to the opera. I listen to the song “Nosotros” and I am back with my dad and he is explaining the meaning of the lyrics and the history of the song.   I was 8 years old at the time but remember every expression. These songs bring them back to me even if just for a little while. La Macarena takes me back to one of our reunions when all of the beautiful ILS ladies danced it for us. I could not wait for the next verse.

These songs are all tied to meaningful memories.  They allow us to become unstuck in time just like Billy Pilgrim in Slaughterhouse Five  Hearing those popular songs immediately transport us to that wonderful place and time when we were together at ILS or anywhere else with people we love. I cannot wait for the scene in Planet Tralfamadore with Valerie Perrine. I remember Bibi telling Mr. Koziol that she believed there was more nudity than was necessary. I agreed with her but kept quiet.

“Another Day” by Paul McCartney and I am in Sts. Peter and Paul, listening to Maria Balbona and Eneida Alejandra Garcia singing to us in Mr. Fraker’s Class. Mr. Fraker would always make fun of them when they got to the refrain and sang… tu, tu tu tu its just another day. I thought they sounded great. It was at this time that Carlos and I both decided to buy Guitars. I did not know we had to get lessons. Playing my guitar reminds me of being together with Carlos learning from Robert how to play certain songs.  The last time I was with Robert, I was showing him some songs I had learned from Steve Walroth. During these times I am with Robert and Carlos again.

One song reminds me of Fabio. “Gonna Fly Now”  or the theme from Rocky. As we finished watching the movie and exited the Miracle Theater, Fabio was so inspired he ran up the stairs. Up to that point, I had never seen Fabio run anywhere. “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” by Meatloaf or any early song by the Police and I am again at Variety Records in the Omni mall, talking to Victor as we alphabetized the cutout bin with the music playing full blast. That was a great job.

The theme from the Children of Sanchez, reminds me of my honeymoon. (I will stop there). Staying Alive takes me back to the first time I asked my wife to go out dancing. Only one problem, I had no idea how to dance. Victor, Fabio, Marlene, and Maria Rivas held emergency sessions trying to make the Moose look like John Travolta.  Seemed like an insurmountable challenge. It was. We had a great time. I have always been blessed by Great friends.  I always pray that my children and grandchildren are blessed with friends like the ones I met at LaSalle.  Whenever I hear Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World” I am with Cristina dancing the father daughter dance at her wedding. I hope to never forget that.

If I hear Maroon 5’s Memories or Pachelbel’s Canon and I am back at the Cafetorium, together with beautiful people, celebrating the life of a dear friend.

These are not sad memories. These are happy memories. These are fond memories. These memories that take us back and we are again with them. They make me appreciate the time I spent with those who have passed and to appreciate and celebrate every one of those who are still with me now.

 

Fight on LaSalle,

 

Moose