I continue to watch World Cup 2014 more than is advisable. With my friend J.H., I watched a 1 AM to 3 AM game in which the Netherlands defeated Mexico in dramatic fashion. Mexico is out.
I feel a special attachment to the World Cup, as I started explaining in post 215 ("World Cup USA 1994").
I have told people that two events of mid-1994 constitute my first strong "socially/culturally/politically relevant memories"**. These are: (1) World Cup USA '94, and (2) The O.J. Simpson trial. I remember being in California for a period in June 1994, to see my brother graduate from high school. I remember the TVs being dominated by two things: The O.J. Simpson murder and the World Cup (then ongoing in the USA). I went to Disneyland on this trip, and my mom broke her leg about this time.
** -- (This is not exactly true, because I also remember the Clinton election of Fall '92, in which the now-totally-forgotten Ross Perot got an astounding 20% of the national vote. I have no memory of the California Race Riots of April '92, nor of the the First Iraq War of early '91 [it only lasted 72 hours anyway], nor of the Berlin Wall in November '89 or anything else, really, about the Collapse of Communism.)
So much for "politically relevant" memories. How about earliest memories of any kind? One stands out. It goes something like this:
Small boy. It's me. Short blondish hair.
Small girl. Long hair. Noisy but pretty.
A toy car. Nice! Red. Yellow. Fun. I can have fun!
No. She takes it. She keeps it!
I want to try! Maybe I can wait.
Why won't she share??
What do I do? I can't do anything. Sad.
I wander away. I'm sad.
So there it is. This has stuck with me so many years, but it's not a very positive memory, is it. A memory of defeat, dejection, helplessness. It was caused by a girl, whose name and face are long forgotten to me, "hogging" the object of my curious desire. It was one of those toy cars that a small child can fit into and drive around using the feet to propel the car forward. This was at some kind of early childhood play center in Arlington, back in the 1980s.
Still yet today, I can see through the eyes of that young boy on that day. He had no idea what to do. He just wanted to try the car. He just wanted to experience some joy in his young life. This other girl, she grabbed the car and kept it for herself. The boy slunk away and pondered life's unfairness. The boy felt sorry for himself. He didn't fight.