Proust famously wrote of an episode where the taste of a madeleine (a kind of small biscuit) transported him back in time and memory to rich recall of past events and emotions.
I’m no Proust, but I had an experience a bit like that this morning. I finished watching Season 2 of the (enjoyable in execution but implausible in premise) UK TV series ‘Life on Mars’ last night. They used the David Bowie song of the same title as the closing theme music, so that’s what was in my head when I woke up this morning.
Or rather, by the usual alchemy of memory, it was actually Elton John’s ‘Rocket Man’ I was singing to myself. The link is that I learned both songs from an LP I bought on a 1976 trip to New Zealand, called something like ‘A Space Oddity’ and pulling together a number of loosely space-themed songs. Those two were certainly the most memorable.
And that brought back a rush of shame. Weird, huh? Well, the trip was with the Pathfinders, an organisation a bit like the Scouts but under the auspices of the SDA church. I was 12 and it was my first real trip away from home. I’d fundraised assiduously for about a year to fund the trip and a little spending money – about $100, which was a heck of a lot more in 1976 than it is now. I’d had huge help from my parents and grandmother in the process, and I realise now that they’d sacrificed to send me.
When I got to New Zealand the money was changed into New Zealand dollars, and with the favourable exchange rate at the time I think I ended up with about NZ$170 or so. The notes were odd, and didn’t seem quite real.
So, being 12, first real money, all that, I did things like buy LPs of space music. And junk food. And so on. Blew the lot, had a good time, lots of stories. The Pathfinders camped near a pine forest on the side of a hill and I still have great memories of running around playing Capture the Flag on the slippery pine needles.
Arrived home where my parents met me at the plane, greeted me, and enquired what gifts I’d got for my 3 siblings. And of course, I hadn’t got any. Just never crossed my mind. And no-one gave me a hint…
So, instead of the glorious recounting of many great new adventures for a kid, the 2 hour drive home from the airport was spent in a brooding silence as all reflected on what a selfish little git I was.
And in a way I guess it was fair. I shouldn’t have needed a hint. I should have been smart enough and generous enough within myself to think of others while I was enjoying myself.
But I also think redemption has to be part of any life, and none seemed to be offered. I was chagrined and sorry, but I couldn’t pop back on the plane to NZ and buy gifts now. So there needed to be a way back, a way to apologise, be forgiven and restored to the good graces of the family. And there didn’t seem to be.
And I can still feel it, all these years later. It adds an odd resonance to the Bowie song for me. And it’s also meant that I’ve never again forgotten to bring back the gifts. But, perhaps more importantly, it’s meant I’ve always tried to offer the possibility of redemption to everyone around me.