how much for a bottle of nostalgia?

my wife Victoria and me the night of our wedding in 2018.

i can taste, smell, and feel that night right now. i literally remember the sensation of that summer grass pressing against the pristine pleather soles of my wedding day shoes. i can feel my clammy hands pushed hard against Victoria's, trying to avoid whatever that stuff is in the air. i LOVE going back to that night. increasingly, i'm able to go back to moments in time without a visual, auditory or olfactory prompt. it's one of my favorite things to do.

whenever i'm missing the simpler days of my childhood, i transport myself to Sunday afternoons at my family's rented two-bedroom apartment on Plymouth Road at the Willowtree Apartment complex in Ann Arbor, Michigan. there, every Sunday like clockwork, my darling Mother would cook her famous Nigerian shrimp fried rice (original recipe). my brother and i would sit in the living room tuned in 110% to the latest episode of Xena Warrior Princess playing for our pleasure on WB20 (734/313 waddup). honestly, it doesn't take much for me to tear up thinking about and dissolving into that soothing sense of insatiable longing for a moment gone forever, but always still with you somehow.

i'm obsessed with nostalgia. i want to put the feeling in a chilled bottle and sip on it through the day. i think it explains a great deal about my deepest and most natural pleasures. the simple things that i LOVED before i learned how to love. fried rice was about family togetherness and weekly reliability. hometown teams are about the same thing, i think. i suppose i'm coming around to understanding hardcore sports fanatics a bit better.

term of the day: Bernoulli's Principle. a fascinating physical principle, especially as applied beyond the physical world.

song of the day: JEWELZ by Anderson Paak. go dance with someone somewhere. peace.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gXlC3rD8jI