Eight Years

I can quote tens of thousands of lines from hundreds of movies. This is a talent I develop as a small child when I drove my father crazy by repeating television commercials in the car.

I would extoll the virtues of housecleaning products and luxury American cars as we drove from home to school or to my grandparents' house and my father would beg me to stop. repeating. commercials.

Today, I can recite a quote for just about any occasion. Usually they are obscure references that only I find funny or, fo that matter, even understand.

But that’s okay; the quotes make me laugh, which is all that matters.

Of course, this ability comes at quite a cost… I can never remember other important things like mathematical formulas, phone numbers, historic dates, the 16th place of Pi, people’s names…

A friend once commented that if I spent half as much time on the world’s fuel crisis as I did on movie quotes, we’d have a never ending free fuel source by now. (In my defense, I don’t try to remember quotes, they just sort of… stick.)

As I say, my memory for other things is a little weak. But there are a few days that stick out in my head.

One of them happened eight years ago.

This particular day eight years ago was a Sunday and the weather was picture perfect in Camarillo, Ca. The sky was crystal blue with high wispy clouds and the temperature – which the week before was hitting the 90s – hovered around a breezy 75 degrees.

That summer in California had been a semi-wet one, so the grass was green and smog was kept at a minimum (how can you trust air can’t see?).

My nerves were a little jangled, but in a good way.

How is it I remember the day so well? Eight years ago today, P.Pie & I stood with 100+ friends and family members in a wonderful wedding ceremony. In fact, it was our wedding.

And this morning, for the first time in eight years, I managed to remember it before P.Pie.

Happy Anniversary, P.Pie!