and Words
[Instrumental]
More than once I’ve been accused of remembering details with stunning, even creepy accuracy. My ability to recall details from conversations years before causes friends and family some distress. Save for that time in high school where I memorized pi to over 130 digits, I don’t try to remember details; I just do. I won’t tell you that I remember details with malicious intent, at least not most of the time.
On an otherwise ordinary visit to Costco, I come upon the condiment aisle. I walk by the cartoonishly large portions of whatever they’ve packaged; I observe them in morbid fascination. Upon finding a gallon-sized container of plain yellow mustard, I stop. At that moment, a particular memory surfaces. My good friend detests yellow mustard. He won’t consume it as a condiment and only occasionally tolerates it in recipes.
Continue reading “A guitar virtuoso, with a side of yellow mustard”