A Memory Bank of Synthetic Colors

I had a fascinating conversation with a young lady yesterday about our first respective memories. Hers was of disembarking a plane at age three and meeting being introduced to a little girl with curly red hair. I tried to think of mine? What was my first memory?

I have several, and I don’t know how to put them in chronological order.

My strongest early memory is manufactured, a situation drawn from a picture in a photo album. I was three, and we had just moved into our house in Japan. It is a simple memory, one of my family sitting on the floor next to the washing machine chowing down on corn on the cob, taking a break from moving our stuff in. But I have photograph of this, and I suspect I don’t really remember the meal on the floor at all.

My earliest memories do definitely come from that house, however. I lived there from age 3 to 5.

I have a memory of cutting pictures of cool looking motorcycles out of a magazine and keeping them in a little black metal basket. My brother did the same, and we were both adamant about the motorcycles we "owned" being unavailable for the other to have, or even hint at liking.

Another memory of breaking a glass bottle on the street, unfortunately for me, in front of my father. He made me pick all the little pieces up and throw them away.

Another memory of snatching a toy car that my brother received as a Christmas present and opening it for him, for which I was reprimanded.

A flash of a movie I saw at a baby sitter’s house of a man who drove a blue car getting chased up some stairs by a police detective. The movie terrified me, and to this day I still have no idea of the name of it.

Sneaking a scoop of margarine straight from the little plastic tub. It was gross, but the reaction it prompted from my parents was worth it.

Stealing a LEGO sword from a pile of LEGOS in a house that we visited for Christmas. None of my LEGO people had any weapons, and this kid had a ton of them. He wouldn’t miss one, right? I didn’t count on my parents knowing the entire contents of my LEGO collection as well, and they noticed when I had a new addition. Busted!

Playing Go Fish, and declaring my favorite colors were pink and purple.

My father bringing home a tiger puppet from one of his trips. Whenever he was gone for more than a few days, he always brought something back for my brother and me.

Taking a new toy home, a rubber Stegosaurus, and putting it next to my lamp on the nightstand and staring, fascinated, at the outline of it in the dark until I fell asleep.

Eating too many moyashi (mung bean sprouts) one night and throwing up into a blue plastic basin. This was the first time I remember being sick.

Being too terrified to watch the movie Benji on TV.

The first foods I vividly remember were rice, curry, and cheese tara (チーズタラ).

I remember standing at our sliding glass door in front of the concrete deck leading to our yard, staring at the pouring rain and flashing lightning and thunder. I don’t think I’ve ever been afraid of thunder.

Out of these memories, six are positive or neutral, and six are negative. Why is this division so equal? Was I aware, even at a young age, and the difference between right and wrong? The existence of good and evil? Was I conscious of a balance in life – that good and bad things happen to people regardless of their behavior? How does this affect me as a person today? Am I more likely to accept that bad things happen, or am I more likely to write off my bad behavior as inevitable? Do I accept the consequences for my behavior, should it warrant said consequences?

I do find it odd that so many of my early memories have to do with me acquiring material possessions via legal or non-legal means.  Why aren't my first memories of going places or meeting new people? 

Even from my first memories it is clear that I do things for the sake of a reaction, for shock value. My behavior wasn't so much about acquiring a physical object as it was gleaning knowledge about behavior and reactions of people. This is still largely true today, though I rarely resort to such unscrupulous means to do so.