The Memory of old National Geographics and other musings...

 

It's funny what triggers memories; and how memories can be so intrinsically tied to a person. I saw a picture of someone's collection of National Geographic Magazines, and I remembered being a child and over at my maternal Grandparent's house. In the basement, my Grandpa had built these shelves on one side of the room, and filling them were loads of National Geographic Magazines dating back years and years... I still remember the distinct yellow color of the binding, and I remember the way they smelled... that old book smell, but slightly sweeter. I was obsessed with the world at large - living in a small town like Minoa, knowing there was a whole wide world out there was something that just intrigued me to no end, and pouring over his back issues of National Geographic was a way to see the world without going anywhere. And it was interesting to see how the world changed and how the journalism changed over the many decades of writing. The look of the magazine remained essentially the same though over all those years... yellow binding/cover - a photo shot, and the words National Geographic emblazoned on the front. I was lucky that he let a grubby little kid like me peruse his magazines - I could have easily destroyed them unintentionally just by being a kid, but I think he could tell my thirst for knowledge and the adventure that came with it was something that drove me. I'll never forget those magazines, in that room in the basement - the same room our large family huddled into for Christmases and other holidays. The room we still huddled into year after year as my Aunt and Uncle bought the house when my grandparents decided to move. The magazines were gone, but my Uncle put something just as important to me in their place: his collection of Vinyl record albums. And, as an aspiring teen musician, I was only too happy to comb through those records, look at the covers and inserts and my Uncle was only too happy to play the music I'd find. It was another adventure I found, and the notes from those albums still ring in my ears today. When I think about it, I went a lot of places in that basement without actually moving. It's almost like a quantum meditation on learning, really, and I still feel that every time I get to step into that room.

So, yeah, just seeing a picture of a collection of National Geographic Magazines sent me off on this memory tangent, but it's beautiful that I have this memory stuck in my mind. I'm glad my brain is cluttered with these kinds of moments, because in the end, that's all we have. The memories of those moments - those great moments, big and small. And I was lucky enough to remember to catalog what could have just been a mundane moment in life, for now... it's undeniably precious.