Memories of TV Shows Past

I woke up on Sunday with an image in my head. A cartoonist and her colorist sit at drafting tables across from each other. I knew it was from a TV show. One I had loved many years ago but that was all I could remember of it. Oh and I know the actress was named Lea or Leah. In this modern age of Google and IMDB it didn't take me long to figure out which show I was thinking of. The actress was Lea Thompson, and the show was Caroline in the City.

The show aired from 1995-1999 and I think I watched every episode. I was enamored with the lifestyle of Caroline Duffy, Lea Thompson's character. To me she lived a perfect life, drawing comics during the day while wisecracking with her hilarious next door neighbor Annie, her colorist Richard, and her on-again, off-again boyfriend Del. I loved her apartment, an impossibly spacious place for New York City. And I quickly developed a crush on Malcolm Gets, who played Richard, the angst-ridden and sarcastic but cultured colorist who underneath had a heart of gold. Richard was just about the perfect man for the person I was at that time.

And apparently still is. I watched a couple of episodes over the last two days and I quickly found myself back in the world. Not only did I remember the characters, I remembered the episodes. Almost 15 years after the show ended, I can still remember the episodes. I must have watched the show over and over. And I'm still in love with Richard. There's just something about his dry wit, his slightly patronizing tone, his angst, and of course that soft heart, that still speaks to me. Add in the fact that he's an artist, and I'm done for.

But the whole show reminded me of who I was at the time. I had dreams of being a writer, living in the big city, trading barbs and sweet jabs with neighbors and coworkers while getting paid to write books. I wanted that spacious apartment. I can see clearly why the show appealed to me. And still does appeal to me. It may be a blast from the past but it stirs up hopes and dreams that still haven't gone away. All from one TV show. Now back to binge watching episodes.

Blast From the Past

I'm fascinated by how memories work. While standing in the shower this morning I had a sudden burst of memory about a guide to a book series that I never read. Well I read the guide, just not the series. I'm sure my mother thought they were too adult for me or something. It was a series of books following a royal family in a fantasy world. I remember spending hours with the guide, looking at the characters and reading up about them. Considering I had never read their stories I wonder why this particular book and the characters fascinated me so much. But it had, and I knew that I had to find the book again.

I spent my shower trying to figure out anything about the guide that I could remember. I didn't remember which series it referenced or what the title of the guide was. I could only remember that the authors last name started with Z. Promising beginning huh? I ran through the list of Z last names I know. My first thought was Zindel but I knew that wasn't right. Then Zelinsky came to mind. But it certainly wasn't Paul Zelinsky, one of my favorite children's book illustrators. Then the name Roger popped into my head. And I instantly knew it was right. I knew that was the first name of the author. Zelazny quickly followed. Seriously, how do I know these things without conciously knowing them?

A brief internet search found me not only the series, but the guide. Roger Zelazy is best known for his Chronicles of Amber series. He mixes mythical characters into his fantasy novels to create a superhuman royal family whose exploits the books follow. The Wikipedia page tells me that there were 10 original Amber stories. Again I haven't read a single one, although I have The Guns of Avalon on my shelf to be read for some odd reason. The guide I was thinking of was The Visual Guide to the Castle Amber. At least I think. I can't for the life of me remember the title. But I know the cover above, and I would know the pages in an instant. Each character had an illustration and a biography. I remember reading about the brothers and sisters and seeing the images. It's a book that I pored over. And now I have to find it. I must own this guide. Even if I never read any of the books that inspired it, I know I have to own the guide, something I read and loved 25 years ago. I just have no idea why it popped into my head this morning. Memories are funny things.

Down Memory Lane

I received an email this past week from a good friend of mine in high school. She had managed to track me down using the marvels of Google and had taken the chance to email me. To make this feat a bit more amazing I've undergone a name change (last name and nickname) and my friend lives in Japan. I was a bit shocked that she found me and even more excited that she remembered me.

This friend was an exchange student from Japan and we became good friends almost instantly. I have some fantastic memories of the time we spent together. But I didn't remember everything. When she sent me a second email and mentioned some of her memories, it sent me scrambling back to my old yearbooks. There were things I had forgotten. So for the last two days I've been looking back at old pictures and reliving my high school years. I'm shocked at how porous my memories of that time have become (then again it was 16 years ago). I feel a bit old lately.

I was not a particularly popular kid in high school but I had a couple of good friends. I am remembering lunches spent with a candy bar and a notebook. The faculty trusted me enough that if they caught me out of the lunch room and in the building they left me alone. I'm remembering awesome days listening to 8 Tracks in the Journalism Room while laying out a newspaper. I'm remembering driving friends home and to events (I was one of the early ones with a car). I remember the hallways and the choir common room where I spent a ton of my free time watching MTV. Mostly I've been remembering friends who I haven't thought about in a long time.

The city recently remodeled the high school and it looks nothing like the school I went to almost two decades ago. The last time I drove by I didn't even recognize that it was the same school. And in a way that makes me sad. I realize that probably very few of my favorite teachers are still there, but I kind of want the halls to look the same.

It's been a bittersweet couple of days. I've been reminded of some of the amazing times I had in high school. I've been remembering old friends and old teachers. I've been reminded a bit of that passionate youth I used to be. And at the same time I'm reminded that I've gotten older and that nothing has stayed the same. But I have to thank Fumiko. I would never have gone back to those old yearbooks. And for that doumo arigatou gozaimasu.