Memory - Led Zeppelin and a Chevy Nova
Can We Create Memory? (Day 94)
Dear reader,
For the next few days, I’d like to write a bit about Core Memories. I’ve been thinking quite a bit about the intersection of mine and my daughter’s life when we were both about nine or ten, and looking at some old photos. Perhaps it’s her growing interest in music and piano lessons, or the fact that she’s begun to cook and create her own food now that is driving me to consider the emotional sensory impact that simple events have on us - in this case the sound of songs we love and the smell and taste of food that brings comfort.
For example, my aunt’s butter noodles - the smell in particular - is so fresh in my memory, and yet so impossible to relive. But what does that memory mean? How accurate is it, really? Does that Core Memory actually affect my character in some way? Is Core Memory really a thing?
Don’t know. But let’s think about those things and see what we discover, ok? Let’s go!
~Dan
Led Zeppelin and a Chevy Nova
When I was, maybe nine, my cousin Joey took me for a ride in his Chevy Nova SS Coup. Brown sparkle finish. Leather bench seats. Big old fat back tires. God, that car…
He was ten years old than me and lived next door, so I’d already spent a lot of time in that car. Slurpees. Chasing police scanner incidents. Once, he took me up for a helicopter ride.
I really liked Joey and still miss him.
Anyway, on this particular day, after we had settled in, he said with a sparkle in his eye, “Listen to this.” He popped an Eight-Track Tape into his player - I thought I saw a flash of a picture of some old guy carrying sticks on the cover - and fiddled with some controls. “Ready?”
I nodded. And then my life changed.
Led Zeppelin’s “Rock and Roll” washed over me like a sonic tsunami. Joey had it loud, I mean really loud, like too loud for my little ear drums, but Jesus, Mary and Joseph, when that high pitched singer burst into “It’s been a long time since I rock and rolled…” that was it for me. That was what I wanted to listen to. That was how I wanted to listen to it.
That was a critical core memory.
Or was it? Looking back, and really giving that moment some deep thought, I don’t know if that’s right. I have no support, no evidence behind that memory. Nothing to verify that this is what, specifically, happened. Just my brain, reaching back into the fog of childhood and pulling together - perhaps disassociated - moments.
My cousin owned that car. I drove in it a lot. He introduced me to classic rock. That’s it. That’s what I know to be true. But was that Zeppelin, or Bad Company? How old was I actually? Did he even have an Eight-Track Tape player in that car? I just couldn’t say.
That particular core memory appears to be a combination of memory and well, hope, or belief. A feeling? A desire to want him, in the story of my life, to be the one who first played Led Zeppelin for me. In that car. And that song. Because that would be cool. But I don’t know. I’ll never know. So every time I think that maybe that’s what really happened, somehow my brain makes it more detailed, more certain and more important.
What I do know is when I think of him, and when I remember learning about that music back then, and driving in that car, it makes me happy. So that memory is actually a feeling isn’t it?
Where am I going with this? There’s a lot of chitter-chatter on the socials about creating Core Memories for your kids and as it turns out, that’s not actually a real thing. Memories don’t work that way. My cousin wasn’t actively working to create that (not entirely accurate) memory for me. It just hits me emotional now because my own daughter is going through similar experiences with me. But I can’t build a core memory for her like it’s a Lego bridge. So, what can we do then? How can we fashion our kid’s experiences? Or can we? Or even should we?
What do you think? We’ll talk about that more tomorrow. Stick with me. Don’t forget!
A friend who worked in mental health once told me that whether or not a memory was factual wasn't important. It's the person's truth, and that validates it, regardless of its historical accuracy.
The experiences with my son (he's 50 now) when he was a kid has led him to his life's work. I have great memories of my grandfather taking me fishing in his big old clunker of a boat when I was preteen, out in the middle of a pond catching white perch with just a hook and worm and bamboo pole. My son works for NH Fish & Game and to this day he can recall every fishing trip we ever made together. I'm a firm believer in exposing a child to many experiences, allowing them choose the ones they enjoy. Some times the experiences last a lifetime.