Thursday, February 05, 2015

The Last Rites of Memories

Incidents, events, sights and conversations from the past, both enthrall and torment me. None more so than those from my time in Dallas. I'd say it was because they are the most recent, but I'd be failing to acknowledge their vast spectrum. My mindscape has seen seasons of all feelings. My brain tends to filter in good memories. I wanted to process and air brush Dallas in my head as soon as possible. The past couple of months in Kansas City with my brother have helped me unwind and given me that familiness I really needed.
They say reliving and reinforcing memories can change them. I see nothing wrong in using this phenomenon to my advantage. By choosing to do my favorite things in Dallas, I reinforced the happiness they brought me. By omitting things I disliked, I'd bury those memories without an obituary.
Ze Milonga: Big D's Tango scene has remained pretty consistent over the years: Big, and fairly unchanging. I remember a new out of town dancer saying, she felt "attacked by hawks" on the dance floor. Not that leaders were misbehaving, they just couldn't wait to dance with a new comer. No longer being "Fresh meat" I didn't get that much attention. This gave me all the time in the world to dance with people I have always enjoyed dancing with and vice versa. Ideally, I'd be an immersed in dancing, like a four legged tangoing animal. I wasn't. The other feature of the Dallas Tango scene are people who think they are great shakes but end up being helicopters on the dance floor: violently sweeping other couples to the side. They are as annoying as housefly climbing into your nostrils. But hey! They are so part of Dallas Tango, that I'll keep them in my brain register. The register has in it some fabulous dances with people I have loved dancing with over the years. They've followed every minutia of my lead so delicately that I want holograms of each them to dance with wherever I go. It's a different glee. Very memorable!

Trinity Hall: My favorite Irish Pub. So much so, I haven't really been to many others since second year. Tastefully sized old painting, books and busts in ebony and gold decor were the first attraction. The company of my best friends inside or on the patio, every Sunday for three consecutive years has to be the second. Servers recognizing me and asking me if I want "the usual" to this day, comes third. Cheese Fries with scallions and Belhaven Scottish Stout being my "usual" a close fourth. Trinity Hall has seen me in every mood. I have seen all moods and seasons at Trinity Hall. The lilting notes of Irish music sync with my heartbeats and lead them. They also remind me of ecstasy and a deplorable, yet indelible misadventure. TH will forget me. But it has gained a long term lease on real estate on my mindscape.

Katy Trail: Runs on Katy trail got my heart racing and not just because of the physical exertion. Andrey must have run five hundred miles over the years on this 3.5 mi long paved trail. It runs parallel to uptown, to the side of the RICH Highland park and attracts the well endowed people, financially and otherwise. We had a rating system. The aim was to run long enough to have a 24 carat run. Each pretty lady was a carat. We varied the name to a 'carrot' to add an additional layer of ratings. There'd be Central Market Carrots, Whole Foods carrots, Walmart carrots and Rio Grande carrots. There was once, and only once a lady who we agreed earned two Central Market Carrots. Damn, I can still picture her smile at us as she walked her golden retriever as we ran past. Before anyone cries foul about the objectification of women, let's not kid ourselves. If we aren't talking to or will ever speak to or come in contact with people, they are all objects to be viewed from a distance. That's partially what tourism and anthropology is about.
I have a memory associated with almost every mile marker on Katy trail. Each one, definitely worth a special mention in my mental ledger.

These were places that I have loved in Dallas. I couldn't go to Fadi's or White rock lake. They would have been fun. But I didn't because I was in the company of worthy people. It was touching. I've seen ups and downs of life with them. I've had ups and downs in life with them. These are the people that matter: Ones that you miss even when you've left the place. Talking about them is the subject for a book. Someday, maybe.

In such a manner, I performed the last rites of my memories from Dallas. I can spend an idle moment  in peace without listening to a Podcast or watching Netflix to distract me. Let's make some more memories, somewhere else.


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