It started with my remembering my trip to Aberdeen, Washington when I was 15. I live only a couple of hours from Aberdeen now, but then, I was an Ohio kid. Mostly, I remember Aberdeen's otherworldly beauty as I rode on the bridge into town. I thought it looked like a Malta village I had seen in movies.
What I remembered Aberdeen looking like from the bridge:
Latter day John has been to Aberdeen several more times, and he has no idea what 15 year old John was babbling about. Aberdeen is kind of ugly.
So to Google Maps I went:
Nope. No matter how many times I pan around, I can't seem to make Aberdeen look like Malta.
Were other memories similarly bullshit? How about the entrance to my elementary school? I remember it being like the halls of Congress, with my stubby little legs pumping up a massive amount of oversized steps. Maybe dozens!
Oh.
But surely the Hell Hill in Bloomington, Indiana would measure up to my memories. I would play hoops until my legs could take no more, and then I would hop on my bike and just d-i-e as I plowed up the Olympus between the court and my couch. So steep was this incline, sometimes I had to walk my bike up.
Seriously?
But surely Detroit would be as I remember it. The Super Bowl buses had abandoned me that night. I had to walk three miles on broken crack vials through crime-riddled neighborhoods with boarded up windows and gang-bangers on every corner, sizing up whether or not I might be carrying. That memory would certainly withstand some scrutiny.
Stop sullying my memories, Google.