When Imagination Meets Memory

Today as I was out running some errands I saw a can of the chocolate hazelnut Pirouline wafers that my grandma used to sometimes buy when I was little. Once in a while she would let me have one & I remember thinking they were the most glamorous thing I had ever eaten.  My memory convinced me to buy a can to bring home.  I waited with great anticipation to taste one again.  I opened the can & bit into the flaky wafer.  It was good.  That's all.  Just good.  And I didn't feel glamorous at all. Of course nothing can live up to that many years of being placed on a pedestal as "the most glamorous thing I have ever eaten."

I can remember being quite distraught when Jell-O Pudding Pops were discontinued.  I have heard people kept asking Bill cosby if he could convince the company to reintroduce the pudding pops (as if CEOs listen to actors) & I even considered submitting a petition of my own.  An entire generation mourned the loss of those puddingy, chilly treats & couldn't move on to something else.  One day a few years ago I was in Aldi & saw-- but couldn't quite believe my eyes-- a box of Jell-O Pudding Pops!  Of course I bought them!  Who wouldn't have bought them?!  I brought them home & broke into the box right away, ready for the resurrection of my childhood.  Well, they were good-ish.  Actually, they tasted kind of like fudgesicles, which I just like, not love.  They might have been a step up from fudgesicles, but just a small step (like the kinds you find in old homes built when people were shorter on average).  There is not a frozen treat in the world that could live up to the anticipation & imagination of an entire generation of people mourning its loss & celebrating its resurrection.  That pudding pop probably tasted just as good as it did when I was a kid, but it was ruined by decades of trying to recapture how delicious it had been.  My imagination had met up with reality, and reality rarely lives up to my imagination.

Whenever I am in Utah I do everything in my power to visit a restaurant chain called Cafe Rio.  Why?  Because, in my head, Cafe Rio serves the absolutely most delicious food.  Ever.  At least that's how good it is in my memory, especially after the food has time to simmer in my imagination.  Then it comes out tasting like bites of heaven, or what I imagine heaven would taste like-- of course I'm thinking of the southern provinces of heaven.  As soon as I take the first bite of actual food from Cafe Rio I know that it is very good-- and even the angels might enjoy it-- but it is not made of heaven.  The first time I ate at Cafe Rio it surpassed my expectations.  Every other time I have eaten there I have been disappointed.  It's just simply impossible for the poor souls at Cafe Rio to cook food that could satisfy my memory, especially when my imagination has had a year or more to work on my memory.

The fact is that we humans have a tendency to idolize experiences & people from our past & whenever you make an idol out of anything or anyone, it (or they) can do nothing but disappoint.  So perhaps we should stop viewing our past with such rose-colored glasses & see it for what it is.  Shrinky dinks, once all was said & done, were just shriveled-looking creations.  Easy Bake Oven just made underdone brownies & took forever to do that much.  College was fun, but there was a LOT of homework.  High school was a time of confusion, acne, and self-centeredness.  Babies are snuggly & cuddly & they don't talk back, but don't forget about the crying & the diapers & the sleepless nights.  Nothing was as good as we remember it being, so maybe we should stop remembering anything as wonderful so we don't ever feel disappointed.

Or maybe it's good we can look back with such rose-colored glasses.  Rose-colored hindsight is good for morale.  We can forgive our imaginations for running away with our memories, because that is the part of the fun of living.  Imagination makes life-- whether past or present-- more colorful, more memorable.  There is no reason to regret moments of disappointment amongst a lifetime of high expectations & pleasant (if inflated) memories.  If we never experience disappointment, we'll never appreciate the moments when our reality actually proves to be as good as reality can possibly be.  And, true, reality will rarely live up to our imaginations, but then I am not so sure I want it to.  Reality, with its ups & downs, its triumphs & its disappointments, is a much fuller & self-actualizing experience than I could ever dream up.  So go ahead & buy the Rainbow Bright movie for your daughter, but don't be surprised if you fall asleep this time around.  But you will sure enjoy the memories &, even more, you will absolutely LOVE watching your daughter make some memories of her own.