You said it, Bob!

My 11th-grade U.S. History teacher loved the 60s. She had us prepare a whole "60s Night" to be held on a Wednesday night after school. She explained the mandatory attendance to this event as, "I know some of you have commitments, like church youth groups. You can miss one night. You won't go to hell." Yes, that's how passionately she felt about it.

Aside: Everyone had to participate in some kind of "act." Britt and I performed an amazing reenactment of the Apollo 11 moon landing. The amount of aluminum foil we used was, and is to this day, probably unequaled by the likes of anything seen in the Cary High School gymnasium.

In preparation for the evening, our teacher had us learn protest songs. Even now, I find myself singing "Little Boxes," "If I Had a Hammer," and "The Times They are A-Changin'."* That last little number is what brings me to my post today.

I've been thinking lately about how things change. Specifically, how you can look back at a chapter of your life and remember the emotion of the moment. Even when details become fuzzy, you can recapture the feelings and thoughts from the past. Sometimes all it takes is simply looking at a picture, hearing a song, seeing someone, catching a whiff of a familiar scent, or some other innocuous, everyday experience to trigger this reflection. While we continue to change, it's as if our past selves are frozen into place, accessible by our current selves.

*We learned a LOT of songs, and after a while I gave up trying to learn all of them. I would just hum along and join in on the choruses. As a result, I can't guarantee that we learned this last one, but I think we did ;)