I look into a mirror today and I'm not sure of the reflection. I am in process. I am on some path that doesn't go backwards even though I can look over my shoulder and catch fleeting glimpses of what used to appear in the mirror.
There is a sun bleached full head of blonde hair with a tanned face in a Panama City hotel in 1990. The soundtrack for that trip was The Buzzcocks - "You Say You Don't Love Me" and "I Believe" on a low budget fake Walkman while the waves washed ashore. I was getting over a girl. It seemed like I was always getting over a girl.
There is a Polaroid snapped of me in front of the bathroom mirror as I got ready for work at McDonalds in 1985. I was eighteen, maybe 3/4 boy and 1/4 man. I'm blow drying my hair which would smell of hamburger grease when I got back home. The soundtrack was buzzers, sizzling, and the crack of frozen patties on the edge of the grill to separate them.
"No Elvis, no Beatles, no Rolling Stones in 1977" I was part of the Minutemen that summer. The Minutemen was one of the teams in a fledgling softball league called the Jimmy Carter Softball League sponsored by the Moose Lodge. We didn't have real uniforms. Just a t-shirt with a moose head and a cap that we picked up at Agee's Sporting Goods back when it was still located just off the Murfreesboro square. The Minutemen cap had a white mesh back with a big white M on the solid maroon colored front.
I wore that cap everywhere. It's in almost all of the photos taken of me that summer. The thing I remember most about the cap is seeing it reflected back atop my head in the passenger side mirror of my father's Ford Ranger. I would lean over in the seat just to see the mirror. The scenery passed by as a shadow while I stared back at myself. Solid. I was not in process.