The Strange Essence of Time
As I age, I find it harder to interpret the distance between the current time and a memory. For example, while reading the paper this morning I got lost in a synopsis of the Blue Jays' first 30 seasons. There was a blurb about Dave Stieb losing a no-hit bid with two out in the ninth against the Yankees. Roberto Kelly hit a two-out double in the left corner to ruin the perfect game.
I have vivid memories of Roberto Kelly getting that hit and Stieb coming oh so close once again. In my mind, that feels like ten years ago. It actually feels more recent than that, but even ten years is way off base. That game took place on August 4, 1989 which is almost 18 years ago. How is that possible?
It doesn't seem very long ago that my wife and I bought her a dog but in reality that was over a decade ago. There are ball players and hockey players I remember watching recently and then I'll learn they retired in '92. I could swear the Chris Webber NBA draft was just a few years ago but he's now a 13 year vet. What is it about memories that they always appear closer than they are?
I remember the Blue Jays tenth anniversary crests they wore on their uniforms like it was yesterday, and now the franchise has hit the big 3-0. It feels like I watched James enter this world for the first time but a month ago, but he's a big five year old boy now. I could go on, but this will only depress you.
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