"It' not what I remembered..............

fuzzybuddy

fuzzybuddy

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The Sticks, Northeast PA.
In another thread, Johnny Carson came up. I used to love watching him. One of those nostalgia TV rerun networks show the old "Tonight Show". Today, Carson's monologues seem pretty lame. It's not what I remembered.
When I was a kid I used to climb up high in this tree. Years later, I saw the tree, we climbed to about 4 feet off the ground. It's not what I remembered.
What have you found that's not quite what you remembered?
 

I agree with what you wrote about Johnny Carson, but then I was never a fan of his, anyway.

When I was a teenager, we lived in a small 2 bedroom frame house that I did not like. I thought the houses were much bigger and nicer where some of my classmates lived, several miles away. Sometime ago, I drove through that area and realized their houses weren't all that much bigger or better, and of course a lot of time has passed - so even those look bad now.

I don't like going back and revisiting the past.
 
After living away from my childhood home for many years I went there and felt like a giant in all the rooms. Apparently all my memories of that house were from an age when I wasn't nearly as tall.

I experienced a shock one time when I was in the seashore town, with my soon to be wife, where my grandparents lived but had since passed away. (We used to spend 2 weeks in the summer each year staying there when we were kids.)

I drove to the street to show her the house and it was an empty lot. Wow! I knew it was an old bldg but Wow! I couldn't even visualize how such a large bldg even fit into the lot I was looking at. It was a pretty large bldg because it was actually 2 houses together and had been made into rooms and apartments to rent during the summer. Plus a bungalow behind the main house that could also be rented.

Both structures were gone. I could see clear to the next street behind. All those memories swept away.
 
MACKTEXAS said:
I don't like going back and revisiting the past.
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Me either, it always leads to sadness. An example: my mother never seemed to love any of us kids and the only one of us she paid much attention to was my sociopath sister (probably because she was afraid not to; sis is terrifying). However, mom did give me a copy of The Wizard of Oz book with a nice inscription (for a change) inside the front cover, "To my sweet {officerripley}, Happy Birthday, much love, Mom." And I would think about that sometimes and think, "Well, maybe she did love me once in a while, when she wrote that anyway." And it would comfort me sometimes to think about that inscription.

But a couple of years ago, when I was missing her (or the mother I wish she'd been) really bad and feeling really sad and I got the book off the shelf and looked at it and what the inscription she wrote actually said was, "Happy Birthday, {officerripley}--Mom." So no love even mentioned. So I threw the darn book away. That's been one of the best things I finally learned to do for myself: face the fact that there are some people who are never ever going to love, or maybe even like, me and I just need to move on and forget they exist if possible.
 
I have a small table in my living room that I inherited from my parents. It has a mosaic pattern across the top and is about 1 foot square. The table is about 2 or 2 1/2 feet tall. My parents called it a "smoking table" and was probably fashionable in living rooms in the 30's and 40's.

I remember standing next to it, when the top of the table was almost on a level with my head. I must have been about 2. It's my earliest memory.
(The table is now in my living room.)
 
I remembered the Carol Burnett show as absolutely hilarious -- particularly the "Gone With the Wind," parody and some of the sketches with Tim Conway as a shuffling old man. Now if I watch the re-runs, I realize I've remembered the best bits and forgot how many were rather boring or repetitious.
 
Della said:
I remembered the Carol Burnett show as absolutely hilarious -- particularly the "Gone With the Wind," parody and some of the sketches with Tim Conway as a shuffling old man. Now if I watch the re-runs, I realize I've remembered the best bits and forgot how many were rather boring or repetitious.
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You can tell how bad it was when they acted like what they were doing was so funny that the actors couldn't keep a straight face.
 
IrishEyes said:
One of my uncles got into trouble and did some prison time, when I was turning 16 years old he sent me a birthday card for a child about 6 years old. Guess I was stuck at 6 for him all those years.
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I do that sometimes. I think of people as they were the last time I saw them. Kids change so quickly that a few years can make them unrecognizable.
 
Last year, I visited the neighborhood I grew up in. There was a rock at the corner that we used to climb on and play "King of the Hill" on. It was a BIG rock....well, it looked big. So I drove down the street to see it. It was still there but dang! that thing had shrunk. It wasn't any higher than my hip but I sure remember it being 20 feet high.

My old house had shrunk, too. When we moved there from the very small house my parents had built when I was two, I thought the "new" house was huge. It wasn't. Oh, well, another memory gone.
 

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