Pearl Jam, Athens 2006

Driving on a rainy morning (the sun could be up, but heavy clouds obscure the rays to end their journey) from home to work, I plugged in the car stereo my mp3 player. As always in Athens a rainy day equals to hours inside the vehicle just to go to work. So my mp3 player is my only remedy. I resume listening to Orishas, a good group mixing hip-hop with traditional Cuban music/rhythms, and as "el kilo" was finishing, from the speakers came the sound of clapping from a live show.
"Go" was starting to play and I was transfered once more into the stadium...
The band was on time and as soon as the clock ticked the eighth hour of the evening Eddie with his friends stepped into, through screams of joy and excitement.
Two years and almost two months ago, I was present in one great evening, an evening with Pearl Jam. The first track of the evening felt as a trip through time, years ago, still at high school. "Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town" had me singing and it was just the beginning.
I still had a long way to work and I was happy about it. As soon as it finished we received a surprise call from our friend from Spain, and as soon I got to talk with him Pearl Jam was playing "Given To Fly". One of my favorites, one of Pearl Jam's best songs, and I was remembering how excited I was talking with him and listening to the song (the conversation lasted for a few seconds, but that was enough!).
As soon as I was trying to find a parking space, Eddie was presenting his "wish list". The first part of the concert was over, I closed the stere,o got out of the car and patiently was letting time slip away so that I could hit the road.
Play button and "Insignificance, Jeremy, Better Man", got me to the last traffic lights before show down of evening's traffic jam.
The first Encore started with "Footsteps" and we were still at the middle of the evening, sun was descending, leaving hopeless drivers looking for a small fracture in the continuity of endless metal to fill in. In between Pearl Jam's songs a small tribute to Pink Floyd, "Daughter (Another Brick In The Wall)" and Jimmy Hendrix, " Yellow Ledbetter(Little Wing)" which closed the evening and some greater with the Band to thank Ramones, by performing "I Believe In Miracles" and Neil Young by performing " Rockin' In The Free World".
And then the lights were on, lifting away the anonymity, the crowd was exposed to the Band, but even under the heavy light the crowd was happy, was singing was dancing. The band finishing with " Yellow Ledbetter(Little Wing)" waving to everyone of us...

Memory

It was an ordinary day in the lab, an unpleasant one, since I was In the Lab, and one of the hottest days of July the last days of July. I was sitting on a stool, mixturing some liquids in a small tube. In order to avoid any unforgivable mistake, I had blocked out every distraction, the chattering people, the music from the radio, the boss asking various information needed to be answered. Everything was but a blur, I was just counting every μl and memorizing each ingredient I've used, so that the steps would be imprinted in my memory, long enough to transcribe them to a piece of paper, at the end of the experiment, for future evaluation.
But memory works in mysterious ways. No one knows which memory, information, or whatever, is stored in the brain, patiently waiting for the moment that it will be retrieved. No one knows what is hidden deep into the labyrinth of myriads of synapses between an equal amount of neurons. How all that information is being organized, archived, does any kind of indexing exists, that will facilitate the immediate and specific extraction of long forgotten information? Or, rather, there is no organization, everything is in chaos, so that enormous amount of data could be stored in that gelatinous part of our bodies called brain.
I had blocked out everything, but just the smallest distraction could blow everything in the air. So, when a colleague of mine opened one of those advertising handkerchiefs used for cleaning up our hands after a meal, a soft ,but not so delicate, lemon aroma diffused into the lab. It was not the first time that I had smelled that aroma, as those handkerchiefs are common.
For some reason at that particular moment and within a relative small amount of time every function ceased, I blacked out and my brain filled with all the data that had been unlocked from that aroma. My mind was filled with images, smells, feelings, sounds, of a past time. Every sense was alive but inside my brain. It was as if for just a few seconds there was nothing else. As time was not and past and present was one.
In the center of this experience was the soft delicate lemon aroma derived from those big dark semi-transparent bottles filled with hand-made lemon aroma.
Sunday evening, probably during the winter, cause I was having finishing a hot bath. Wrapped in a big-towel following barefoot my mother, who is carrying into her arms my brother, to the sofa to dry us. My father watching the news. Since it is Sunday and the day after we have to go to school, we need to be shiny to wear fresh clothes, for the first day of the week. I am still attending the first classes of junior. While we are still covered with our towels (my brother covered with the towel he had inherited from me, the one with a small hood with some patching on it, making it look like an animal's head) steaming from the hot watter, she would probably trimming our nails, dry and brush our hair.
Then I know that she will stand up and headed for the kitchen and I will wait there patiently for that big bottle. She would open the cabinet door beneath the kitchen. There are always two big bottles, among other things in that cabinet, but I can never recall the aroma of the second bottle. It is as that second bottle was sealed, never meant to be opened. So, she returns to find us still waiting patiently. As soon as she removes the lid, she sealed the opening of the bottle with her palm and inverting it so that sufficient amount of cologne would soak her hand.
And as she removes her hand from the opening of the bottleneck, the lemon aroma is feeling my lungs and my senses...
and I exhale into the lab those memories from the past.