Mariner is of an age that the past, the vital, three dimensional experience of his past life, has faded into brittle memories. Sure, there is the memory of interesting, emotional and benchmark moments of the past that can be recalled as short, tintype memories. But what is missing is the personal, fully reconstructed past – a moment that reinstates one’s life in this moment as if it were still that time – real, fully normal, fully existential feeling as if time has not passed. One is not remembering; then has become now.

The Public Broadcasting System (PBS) discovered long ago that playing old music that was popular in ‘the day’ provokes pleasurable feelings in viewers that take them back to the real days as if those days had not passed by. Yesterday, PBS broadcast a collection of Nat King Cole songs and memories that brought the past into the present. This sensation is hard to explain. One isn’t reminded what it was like – one is watching Nat as if time had not passed. Of course one is listening to Nat; he is a popular entertainer. The mind doesn’t correlate then and now. It is now.

There is a slight hangover of melancholy, of course. As an individual moves through life, history changes things; the brain and the body shift slowly toward old age. Mariner wrote a post recently that described time as breaking off in chunks. That seems apropos; people live their lives in periods of time that are chunks of the past.

Why does one have melancholy? The good old days typically are that period of time between 10 years and 25 years of age. An individual experiences constant maturing through many nodal points of personality, physical change, and new horizons of perception and capability. It is similar, if less frenetic, to the hyperactivity of a two-year-old learning language, independent reality and physical skills on a daily basis. In other words, the good old days are days of new adventure, new awareness, new feelings. It is a time of engaging in newly discovered realities.

There is no change in personality when one is old. The body changes but not in the direction of adventure as much as in the direction of disability. It grows more difficult to sustain vitality and to explore new things. Years ago a friend of mariner said, “Life is like an automobile tire that can’t be changed for a new tire. It loses grip; it loses strength; it starts to leak and finally it has a blowout.”

The challenge for old timers is not lingering in the memory of Nat King Cole but to keep learning. Learning and conquering new life experiences is what makes the good old days so special.

Ancient Mariner

Mariner’s town had its first Spring day three days ago. A Spring day means the Sun is shining, the breeze is comfortable and the temperature is in the sixties. Two days ago the town had its second Spring day in a row. However, as expected the temperature returned to highs in the forties and in the twenties at night and a couple of inches of rain the ground doesn’t need.

On those two Spring days mariner wandered outside to examine the gardens and lawns. Early bulbs are breaking through the mulch; the azaleas out front haven’t shown any interest in growing yet; there is hope they will return in zone 3-4 conditions. He cut back the patch of dead cattails and the brown zebra grass in the shade garden. Mariner cleared the Asparagus bed. The pickup truck was full and ready for the dump.

Mariner noticed other small things. A #$!!@ rabbit had eaten his newly planted fig tree to the nub and two 18-inch high emerald arborvitae as well. Two years ago three fox families moved into town because of the abundance of rabbits. The foxes don’t seem to be around this year and the rabbits are back.

Mariner’s wife feeds the squirrels and birds during winter snows. The snow is gone and thousands of sunflower hulls cover the kitchen garden as if mariner had spread mulch. Mariner has lots and lots of tree leaves like Ash, Oak, Walnut, etc. to collect along fence lines, in the gardens, and across the lawns. Funny thing, mariner has only one tree – a Pecan tree.

So it’s the beginning of another garden season. It was not easy to collect the grasses and clear vegetable boxes. Fifteen years ago mariner could clean up the yard in three hours or so; this year it took all day and required several breaks to ease the pains of codgerhood. Tomorrow he’ll drive to the dump and maybe find a dumped truck load of good dirt to pilfer.

Ancient Mariner

The old home town looks the same
As I step down from the train,
And there to meet me is my Mama and Papa.
Down the road I look and there runs Mary
Hair of gold and lips like cherries.
It’s good to touch the green, green grass of home.

Yes, they’ll all come to meet me, arms reaching, smiling sweetly.
It’s good to touch the green, green grass of home.
The old house is still standing tho’ the paint is cracked and dry,
And there’s that old oak tree that I used to play on.
Down the lane I walk with my sweet Mary,
Hair of gold and lips like cherries.
It’s good to touch the green, green grass of home.[1]

These words come to mind as mariner returns home after a trip that lasted a swirling fifteen days. True, the last verses are more maudlin (see footnote) but one cannot help but relate to the sensation of returning to what is familiar; somehow, the brain feels relieved that the five senses have ceased providing continuously new phenomena that requires the brain to process and identify them in every case. At home, things don’t need to be processed – the brain already has dealt with them.

Familiarity is an expression of implicit memory and largely is distinct from explicit memory (how to perform tasks). If it is suggested that a penny is an important coin, it is likely that, say one day later, if asked “what is an important coin?” an individual likely will suggest the penny. At home, one is surrounded with things that have been addressed over and over, including everything from spatial relations to colors to resident emotions. Everything already has an implicit value. If the reader is intrigued with further brain function, check out http://www.human-memory.net/types declarative.html .

So, settled among familiar settings, mariner can relax in a way that is not possible in a constantly changing environment. Familiar furniture, rooms, watching TV from a familiar angle in a familiar chair, it is comforting. Let implicit memory take over for a change and give explicit memory a rest.

Familiar issues return to the focus they had before the trip: Individual One, the state of the home gardens, things that require repair, balance the checkbook. Still, it’s good to touch the green, green grass of home.

Ancient Mariner

[1] Then I awake and look around me,
At four grey walls that surround me
And I realize, yes, I was only dreaming.
For there’s a guard and there’s a sad old padre,
Arm in arm, we’ll walk at daybreak.
Again I touch the green, green grass of home.

Yes, they’ll all come to see me
In the shade of that old oak tree
As they lay me ‘neath the green, green grass of home.

Songwriters: CLAUDE CURLY PUTMAN
© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC