I find it amazing how much fun I have thinking about the past. Not living in it, but thinking about it. And not just my own past, but someone elses. I guess that's why I like memoirs and bigraphies so much. Truth really is stranger than fiction.
Recently, I ran an executive planning workshop for a small company in Montgomery, Alabama. I had to fly through Memphis to get there, which of course I grumbled about. During my short stay in the Memphis airport I found that all five of my senses were invaded by Elvis Presley. I was in Graceland and my mind immediatley leaped to Marc Cohn, Neil Simon, "One for the Money, Two for the Show...", Blue Swead Shoes, and on and on. I was filtering through my past - my mind like a fuzzy photograph reenacting history, and I had a ball doing it. This to me is nostalgia. Its like playing.
My first night in Montgomery was highly memorable. After dinner (I was stuffed with BBQ) I took a walk down Dexter Ave. Not on the sidewalk but right down the middle of the street. I passed Rosa Parks bus stop (chilling experience), Martin Luther King's church (beautiful experience), the slave markets (terrifying experience), and right up the steps of the capital building (dizzying experience). Again, my mind was a blur of wonder. The march from Selma to Montgomery - I was standing on the turf of Bloody Sunday. My imagination went wild. If only I had a time machine and I could roll back the clock. I wanted to be there - to march in someone elses shoes. Particularly their shoes!
Well, I never got to the jungle room and I didn't see the March, but somehow I was there, experiencing this amazing piece of history. My advice - take time to wander and wonder in your mind. Allow the nostalgia of events to seep in. There is a real sense of peace in that pipe. So smoke it!
Be a Breakaway!
See ya soon.
Mike Kerrsison
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