Some of our memories are buried; others rest just below the surface. And then there are those that inhabit some nether world from which they’re chivvied out by a picture or a place, a familiar taste or a song, a word, a prompt from the unconscious. My “adventure” in the summer of 1980 was hiding under some bad times that I had no desire to recall, but once it popped into my head, I could hardly wait to write about it.
The other thing about memory that struck me as I worked on this piece in particular is that you may think you don’t remember much about a time or event, but once you start dredging it up, more and more detail surfaces, things you never expected to appear.
So here’s “Fruit Tramp” - a story that even my nearest & dearest haven’t heard. I couldn’t be happier that it was selected for publication in the University of San Francisco’s outstanding literary journal, Switchback.