Beetle Hats

A friend recently shared on social media a visit with two of her grandchildren at their school. She had pictures with them in the school cafeteria during two different lunch periods. I commented, “Double Beetle Hats! Lucky Grandma!” She responded, “I can’t figure out what “double beetle hats” means.” Because I was in Chicago at the time, I was able to take a poll with people from other parts of the country and sure enough, not one of them knew about Beetle Hats. They all had stories of fried bologna but no one continued with the scoop of mashed potatoes layered with a slice of melted cheese. “May I have another please?”

Isn’t it funny, and/or strange, the memories that pop into our heads when prompted by our senses? Cloth handkerchiefs remind us of our grandfathers while the sweet smell of roses, our grandmothers. Station wagons remind us of cramming like sardines for summer vacations, long rides with the windows down and games played for hours, with our clothes sticking to vinyl seat backs. No seat belts of course. Bread, butter and sugar for dessert, strawberry jam and pabst blue ribbon beer, bunny rabbits and croquet, 45 records, the glimpse of a bowling alley and on and on with old friends and neighborhoods filled at night with children catching lightning bugs and playing games with flashlights. Bus fumes send me straight to the summer I backpacked through Europe. Every single time.

Last night I shared the first of two dinners with friends from high school and I was seated between two ladies that I’ve know since grade school. All night, one of them would say, “Oh do you remember… And what about when we …” I had more fun with these ladies simply sharing our memories. And these times are so important, especially as we …uhmmm… mature. These people, these are the ones who really remember. They know all about beetle hats!

Whether we are prompted by a high school reunion time or a special request from a friend or simply one of our senses, take the time. Breathe it all in. Enjoy the sites and the sounds. These memories, they are what we are made of. They are part of our formation. They are often heaven sent…fried up, scooped out and melted down. Show up. Go back for seconds. And most importantly, ENJOY!