Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details.When cleaning out the closet becomes a stroll down memory lane by J. G. Fabiano The spring season means different things to different people. For some it is a time to get their yard looking like somebody actually lives in the house. For others it is a time to plant flowers to be enjoyed when the sun stays out more than two days in a row. For me it is a time to clean out my closet to see what still fits and what should be thrown away. The first thing I did was pull out all the baseball caps I had jammed on the top shelf. To my surprise I had more than 20 hats that actually represented 20 different times in my life. My favorite hat was in front. It was light blue and had 'Kerrybunkport' sewn into the front of the cap clearly demonstrating which candidate I supported in the last presidential election. Kerry lost but I still wear the cap hoping to annoy anybody who might be visiting from the red states. Another hat was a kind of dirty white and had the initials 'HC' on it, whose meaning I have long forgotten, but I remembered was the first cap I bought to conceal the fact that my mother had passed the baldness gene onto me from all the men in her family. As soon as I put it on I remembered why I hated it so much. Instead of a plastic adjuster strap at the back it had an elastic band around the inside rim so that one size fit all. The major problem was that it cut off all the blood flow to my brain making me even dopier than usual. The first time I wore it to keep the sun off my head I thought I was having a stroke but as soon as I took the hat off the headache went away. When I put it back on the pain came right back. Why I hadn't just thrown it out I don't know, but as I say, it cut off the blood flow to my brain. I then came to the hat that had survived five summers at Long Sands Beach. It was totally faded and there was little left of the emblem on the peak. I remembered when it was first given to me. It was bright red and displayed the emblem for Boston University. I got it to commemorate some research I did with Boston University's biotech programs. The concept of biotechnology excited me but the program never went anywhere because of politics. I returned that cap back to the top shelf for my first day at the beach this summer, hoping it wouldn't wear out before we got a more enlightened government in office. I then pulled down a Boston Red Sox cap that looked like it had never been worn and that puzzled me because, as a proud member of Red Sox Nation, I will wear a Red Sox cap any chance I get. Then I saw the reason why. Even though it had a big 'B' on the peak it also had red and white stripes on the rim that looked a bit sissy to me and reminded me of the Yankees pinstripes. I kept it out in the hope that I might be able to give it away. The next cap I found said simply 'Be Happy' and I remembered a Bobby McFerrin song of that name for a long time ago. I decided its message was more important today than ever so I out that one back. I also found an old U-Maine cap that my daughter gave me and brought back many wonderful memories. It had been blue and black but was now a pale shade of gray. Too many dips in the ocean I figured, which had also dissolved most of the stitching that held it together. That was one that could go out. Another favorite from a few years back was a khaki 'York Independent' hat. It had a motto I try to live by every day; 'think Independent.' It sounded ungrammatical at first until you realized the double meaning and I really loved it. The only problem was I had tried to wash it at some point only to discover that the Atlantic Ocean has nothing on the ability of a washing machine filled with bleach to dissolve any fabric known to man. I put it back because I didn't want to lose the memories it brought back. I thought I had cleared the whole top shelf when I felt the broken rim of one more hat stuffed in the corner. It was a hat that I was given more than a couple of decades ago. I smiled when I pulled it down because I remembered when it was bright red and new. A friend had given one to every York resident who played bocce on the beach that year. Wearing that hat symbolized how proud we all were to be members of the York Beach Bocce Team. Of course this team never existed in any official capacity but the hat brought back many memories of scorching summer days when I could refresh myself during a game of bocce by walking down to the water and scooping up a hat full of cold water to pour over my head. This is one of my favorite activities on the beach and I was heart broken when the hat finally rotted out and had to be retired to the top shelf of my closet. I then started on the sport coats and jackets I had accumulated over the past 20 or so years. I knew I was a pack rat but even I couldn't believe how many jackets were in there. I counted no less than 12. Some I couldn't believe I ever wore because the idea of plaid made me want to pull out my old pocket protector. I had coats that were black, white and blue and came in all different sizes that reminded me of how many diets I had been on over the years and how many times I simply gave in to eating anything and everything in sight. The best part about pulling these jackets out was going through the pockets and finding assorted remnants of my past life. I found old programs from graduations and weddings that had taken place long ago. There were pens advertising companies that no longer existed. I even found some money in one jacket that had a little pocket sewn into the regular pocket to keep valuables safe. To my shock it was a $20 bill. I had no idea I had been that wealthy at that particular time of my life. My favorite jacket was a black leather beauty that had worn out from years of bad weather and even worse maintenance. I used to love that jacket because it made me feel cool. I went through the pockets and, to my surprise, found an old gymnastic program that had my daughter's name in it. Back then she was one of the best gymnasts in the area and I remembered how proud of her I was, and how proud I still am. I put the jacket carefully back on its hanger and back on the rail where it belonged, with the old gymnastic program still in the pocket. What should have taken only a few minutes ended up taking a couple of hours. Before I began I had grabbed a garbage bag so I could throw out all those worn out fragments of my past. I smiled when I picked up the bag only to find it was still empty. Looking into the closet I saw the same old pile of hats on the top shelf and the different colored sports jackets hanging on the rail. My wife asked me later if I wanted to clean out the closet in the hallway. I told her I better not because there were too many memories I just couldn't bear to part with. The End.
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