Mental Vacation

Lately I’ve been experiencing a profound sense of nostalgia. I’ve been seeking songs, movies, images from a time two decades before I was even born. Past-life regression practitioners would claim that my longing for the past represents an attempt by my former self to contact me. Well, I’ve heard what people admit to under hypnosis, and I’m not about to hand over control of my faculties to a spiritualist. Still, there must be a trigger for my neurosis-de-jure – and this time I’m pretty sure it’s not something I ate.

Take this picture for instance. Try to look past the plaid skirts and bobby socks for a moment and ask yourself who would pass up a chance to travel in time and spend a carefree afternoon in a malt shop? I’m equally intrigued by photos like these two, and find myself staring at them – wondering what life would have been like to live in a war-time steel town. Then there’s my renewed fascination with art deco locomotives – please, no Freudian comments here folks, it’s nothing like that - really. Big band music, film noir movies, and Time Life photo journals have become like comfort food for me, and I’m eagerly consuming all that I can.

If I dig a little I might be able to come up with an on-the-fly diagnosis as I write this entry. Here’s one possible explanation: The past 18 months have been very traumatic for my family. We’ve battled cancer and are still in the midst of a long recovery. But, scans are clear, Ema’s pain is easing, and as things fold back into whatever our new ‘normal’ lives will be – living with the immutable threat of the disease, perhaps my mind is taking a little vacation. For over a year, I was forced to live every moment as it was dealt – with no room for anything but the immediate present and worrying about the future. There was no time to reminisce, think about the past in any context, and certainly no time to daydream about what life would have been like some six decades ago chatting with friends over a cherry Coke.

If I’m correct, and my mental holiday is just that – a well-deserved respite from the mayhem, then it won’t last too long. For the moment at least, my preoccupation with another era provides sanctuary from any pending turmoil and allows me time to rally my wits for the next battle. Don’t worry baby - I’ll be ready.