Recall 25-5-07

Recall is a funny thing, by it's nature it just sneaks up on you, taps you on the shoulder. I love it when my thoughts randomly split off into other thoughts that randomly split off again. A lot of these thoughts are memories of past events. I play them lovingly, like an old movie buff watching his favourite films.

Sometimes objects are the tools for recall. They can pop that reel in the slot and let the movie flash up in front of your eyes.

Recently one of these objects for me was a tube of palmolive shaving soap that you squeeze out like tooth paste. I don't use this stuff as a rule, it just ended up in my toiletry bag as a spare. Alana keeps it in the guest bathroom and I thought I may as well use it when my "boutique foaming, moistrising, sensative environmentally friendly gel type" ran out. I was lathering up while gazing into the mirror. The soapy smell started my recall of this movie.

I recall the time when I was 5 or 6, standing toe to toe with Dad at the bathroom basin. I recall the heady smells of "Old Spice" and soapy palmolve shaving foam or soap. Dad would be shaving, working up quite a lather. He would use these time outs with me to ever so gently take the piss. I even knew back then that there was something not right with what he would say, but at the same time I took so much joy from his sillieness. Like when he used to tell me to flex my biceps, he would then grab one of them with his huge ape like hands and say "Ah! they're like chicken insteps". The way he used to say it, made me want to believe that my biceps were exact replicas of Hercules. Another one he used to pull on me was when he would roll and clack his false teeth around in his mouth, look down on me and without saying a word would know that I would try and ape his action. I would open my mouth wide and try to pull them out so I could rattle them around like him. He would say "This is how you do it son". Take his falsies out of his mouth, pop them back in and clack them around again. I never learnt how to do that trick despite all of his encouragement.

It's been six years since Dad died.      But I can still smell him.