Mind Candy

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Memories of the womb

Posted by mandyf on February 12, 2012

Sometime around August 16, 1969, I recall vividly being in a very warm dark place. The humidity was unbearable, but the single accommodation space and ready supply of food on demand more than made up for it. The reason I recall this day so well was all the jiggling about and noise. It was Woodstock, and I was there. I couldn’t see anything but my hearing was perfectly fine because I remember something about breakfast in bed for 400,000 people. I don’t know if that many people were really there, I just know I was which meant mom was too. This is my memory of that day or three in the womb. You’ll have to excuse my not being more definite about the exact amount of time there, I didn’t own a watch, and even if I did I hadn’t learned my numbers yet anyway.

“scuse me while I kiss this guy…” I remember that because I thought it was kinda weird. Did he say kiss this guy, kiss the sky, or lick a fly? It was hard to tell with all the other noise around me. I remember the food that day or so being pretty lousy too. I kept getting a constant diet of mushrooms and sugar cubes. Maybe mom forgot to pack a lunch or didn’t have any money and was forced to forage around for whatever was available. She seemed to enjoy it, but to me it was a disappointing meal. At least I had some pretty interesting dreams to keep me occupied. At this one point I had solved the world energy crisis, but didn’t have anyplace to write it down. If I knew then how big a deal it would be now I would have tried harder to commit it to memory.

Then I remember this one time mom was laying around on her back a lot, but she wasn’t doing much sleeping. I think she must have been the victim of some alien experiment because apparently she was being probed by some weird device over and over. Maybe they were looking for me in there? Who knows? At least the aliens were nice enough to keep a good rhythm with the music. If you’re going to be experimented on by an alien the least they could do is be courteous.

At some point I remember mom getting sick, I think it must have been the combination of too much of those mushrooms and sugar cubes mixed with her alien abduction. I’m just guessing on that. I do recall not getting enough to eat and kicking her gently a few hundred times in the same exact spot to let her know I was hungry. She did eat something, but it was some kind of weird paper, and maybe some old cheese. Whatever it was it was, for some reason she seemed to think it would taste better with a smoky flavor because for the next few hours every few minutes I got a fresh taste of smoke. I didn’t think it helped the taste of whatever she at at all, but then again my taste buds weren’t really developed yet.

Finally just before we left I recall this time when tons of people were trying to touch me. I remember I could feel this weird circular pressure on the outside of my house and all kinds of people talking. “Some guy said “Far out man…there’s a little person in there.” Obviously he was no Rhodes Scholar, and I wanted to let him know as much, but damned if my vocal chords weren’t developed yet. I wanted to tell them to buzz off, but for some reason mom just kept letting them rub and poke at me. A few people sang to me, one idiot tapped on me like a drum.

After that things went pretty smooth until I decided to come out. I liked the room, but the food got worse and worse. I think mom went vegan because all I kept getting to eat were those smoked mushrooms. Now and then she did eat potato chips, and I’m pretty sure there were some Twinkies in the mix somewhere, but not often enough to keep me around for nine full months even though leaving early meant I would lose my damage deposit. I think that’s how it works anyway because when I came out I remember her saying something about I left her in a wreck and then I was taken away to a new family. Maybe the damage was more than the deposit and that is how the bill was covered? I have no clue really.

My time in the womb wasn’t all bad. I heard some great music, I learned that I never wanted to be a vegan and live on mushrooms, and I learned that not everything is better smoked. I also learned I like beer a lot, and how to distinguish a single and double malt scotch right away. All in all it could have been worse, but I couldn’t recommend the womb I had to AAA as a good place to stay.


2 Responses to “Memories of the womb”

  1. Tom Laing said

    A lovely start in getting to know you – what I’ve been told is it was a lovely sunny winters day, the sun was streaming in and nine months later I popped out and into their lives – that was March 1951.

  2. Kiara Lane said

    Reblogged this on Kiara Lane.

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