Why Remember When?
The Hostess cupcake just didn’t taste as good as I remembered it. Neither did the Twinkie. It was great fun to have them served as dessert at a recent picnic at a shack in the dunes, but they were both a big disappointment. The cupcake, though fresh, was dry and not very “chocolaty.” Ray’s chocolate cupcakes are infinitely better. And I ended up burying the tasteless Twinkie in the bottom of a bowl of fruit salad. Nevertheless, the cupcake and Twinkie provided me a great reminder about the inherent danger of nostalgia. Remembering can be fun as long we realize the memories are romanticized, and if the nostalgia doesn’t diminish the joy of the moment.
At least twice a year, I receive an e-mail message from someone my age about the joys of growing up in the 50s and 60s — drive-in movies, hula hoops, the twist, wax lips, fireflies, and games of kick-the-can. I remember it all with a warm smile of familiarity and contentment that my childhood was full of opportunities to be happy. But I wasn’t always happy as a child, and I don’t ever wish for those days back. I also realize that 40 years from now, today’s youngsters will be reminded of the out-of-date things of their past, like printed books and newspapers, hand-held cell phones, network television, gasoline, and the Jonas Brothers. But they won’t wish for the return of these days either.
As is true with someone who has died, it’s easier to romantically reflect on the past as flawless than it is to experience the present as perfect.
Harvey Milk, Susan B. Anthony, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Caesar Chavez have near-saint status in death but remarkable as they or their accomplishments were, as human beings they were flawed just like the rest of us, and there are people in our lives today who are equally great and just as worthy of respect and gratitude.
The good old days are today, not yesterday, and living people, not the dead, can be our heroes and mentors. Ray, for instance, has finally decided that my potato salad is better than his mom’s. That doesn’t mean that his mother’s wasn’t good. It just means that he let go of it as his standard of excellence and his touchstone of innocence.
Relationships that end often do so because one or both parties long for the feelings of excitement they remember having had with each other in the early days of their time together. That’s their Hostess cupcake — a recollection of something that they feel tasted really good at the time — but if they went back and tried it again, I suspect they would discover that they had since tasted better. Their standards have changed. Their hearts and minds are wiser and more mature. Nostalgia blocks them from seeing that clearly. If they didn’t long for the past and revere what was dead, they would have more fun in the present.
I never forward the e-mails I get from friends about the joys of living in the past. Doing so would seem as much a disservice to the recipients as urging them to attend a class reunion because “it will be just like it used to be.” One class reunion was enough for me. I do, however, forward to friends e-mails that contain beautiful photographs of the world as it is today. I love sharing my joy and wonder in the present.
Now, it may be that Hostess cupcakes and Twinkies are part of someone else’s joy and wonder today, and I celebrate the happiness they feel in eating them. But if they’re hoping that doing so will transport them to their adolescence in the 1950s or 60s, I suggest they try something new with the heart and mind of a child today.
