memory

There is almost nothing so mysterious as the connections made in the human brain.  A smell, or the way a shadow drapes across a certain landmark, a particular note in someone's voice.

There is one memory trigger that is a constant for me.  Within the first few notes of George Strait's song "Easy Come, Easy Go", I am immediately sitting in my high school cafeteria in 1993.  I don't mean that there's a recollection of being there.  I mean there is a sharp disconnect from the present, and full immersion in that experience.  It is September or early October of my freshman year.  I know this because of the way the light falls outside the windows and the way that I don't yet have many friends.  I know it because I still have that lost feeling inside, a cautious search to discover all the new challenges, experiences, and fears that await.

I also associate the song with a girl I barely knew.  She was pretty, but I didn't particularly notice her.  I don't know that we talked more than a few times; we just knew who the other was.  Also, my best friend at the time was terribly infatuated with her.  Otherwise, I don't really know the reason she comes up in my memory.

Isn't that strange?