melancholic memories

Now and then I get a melancholic mood. You know when, sitting alone, tired, whilst sipping a glass of wine. There's usually one moment I always think about which makes me sad and smile at the same time.

I was 16 at the time and on cycling-boat camp (don’t ask) with friends. It was the first camp that we were treated as adults. My friends and me were also the biggest group which meant that we had a lot of influence on the activities.
It was the last night and we had a fare well party. My friends and me decided to do an act at the party, a strip act to be more precise. Hilarity followed but nevertheless we were the main act of the evening.
Afterwards I got a bit in a sad mood. Most of my friends were off to there holiday girlfriends (I didn’t have one as I was together with someone back home) and I was coming out of my alcohol buzz. I went on deck (It was cycling-BOAT camp afterall) still wearing nothing more than my speedos where I saw a girl all alone. I hadn’t noticed her before as she was a bit of a wall flower. I sat next to her and we started talking …
Suddenly she started crying (turned out she didn’t have a lot of friends). I wrapped my arms around her and we just sat there for a few hours just looking at the stars on the deck of that boat. I pulled my fingers through her hair …

I not an emotional person at all. I’ve never fell in love, I don’t get ecstatic and I get over my anger in a few moments but I’ll treasure that night in my thoughts forever.

So do you have such memories that put you in a melancholic mood?

P.S. I didn’t just sit there all night just holding her without trying for more (teenage boys are by nature horny as hell). I didn’t get further than a kiss on her check however. It didn’t matter really.

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Originally Posted by Peasant Phill

Now and then I get a melancholic mood. You know when, sitting alone, tired, whilst sipping a glass of wine. There's usually one moment I always think about which makes me sad and smile at the same time.

I was 16 at the time and on cycling-boat camp (don’t ask) with friends. It was the first camp that we were treated as adults. My friends and me were also the biggest group which meant that we had a lot of influence on the activities.
It was the last night and we had a fare well party. My friends and me decided to do an act at the party, a strip act to be more precise. Hilarity followed but nevertheless we were the main act of the evening.
Afterwards I got a bit in a sad mood. Most of my friends were off to there holiday girlfriends (I didn’t have one as I was together with someone back home) and I was coming out of my alcohol buzz. I went on deck (It was cycling-BOAT camp afterall) still wearing nothing more than my speedos where I saw a girl all alone. I hadn’t noticed her before as she was a bit of a wall flower. I sat next to her and we started talking …
Suddenly she started crying (turned out she didn’t have a lot of friends). I wrapped my arms around her and we just sat there for a few hours just looking at the stars on the deck of that boat. I pulled my fingers through her hair …

I not an emotional person at all. I’ve never fell in love, I don’t get ecstatic and I get over my anger in a few moments but I’ll treasure that night in my thoughts forever.

So do you have such memories that put you in a melancholic mood?

P.S. I didn’t just sit there all night just holding her without trying for more (teenage boys are by nature horny as hell). I didn’t get further than a kiss on her check however. It didn’t matter really.

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Well first something else don't feel wierd for being melancholic. It used to be considered a sign of wisdom, and it still is in certain cultures. (Except for women, if they were melancholic they were considered lunatics...) Anyway...

I've always been quite a melancholic geezer myself. Though most people know me as the ever laughing guy (or fool...?). And there certain special memories which I'll always remember. From stupid pranks I did when I was little ( I really needed some sort of hobby...) from things like when we went to Paris with school and things like that. But when I get real melancholic is when I do a walk at night. Then I get thinking and longing to those night long past. Especially in Leuven. I remember I had to delete 'Wannes van develde - Ik wil deze nacht door de straten verdwalen' from my MP3 player because of it. (Yeah only the Belgians probably know this song but anyway).

But yeah everybody has it.

PS: your post scriptum did ruin the post though, as it made me lol!

Memories often flood back to me, generally when I am alone. Old things of the past, maybe some things I could of done better, maybe some things I should of not done at all. But the better memories are of good times with good friends, and also the birth of my son just over a year and a half ago.

I often remedy this problem by turning on the TV or playing M2TW. Or drinking, that normally kills those pesky brain cells. :clown:

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Originally Posted by Moros

Well first something else don't feel wierd for being melancholic. It used to be considered a sign of wisdom, and it still is in certain cultures. (Except for women, if they were melancholic they were considered lunatics...) Anyway...

I've always been quite a melancholic geezer myself. Though most people know me as the ever laughing guy (or fool...?). And there certain special memories which I'll always remember. From stupid pranks I did when I was little ( I really needed some sort of hobby...) from things like when we went to Paris with school and things like that. But when I get real melancholic is when I do a walk at night. Then I get thinking and longing to those night long past. Especially in Leuven. I remember I had to delete 'Wannes van develde - Ik wil deze nacht door de straten verdwalen' from my MP3 player because of it. (Yeah only the Belgians probably know this song but anyway).

But yeah everybody has it.

PS: your post scriptum did ruin the post though, as it made me lol!

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A sign of wisdom you says you, a sign of nothing better to think about says I. But in all seriousness, it is in such moments that I feel quite pleased with what I've accomplished so far and that I'm happy to be alive.

Ah Good old Wannes. I have the same feeling with Willem Vermandere (Kasteelke van schelptjes en zand, Blanche en zijn peerd en Duizend soldaten). I bit old for my taste, but then again you wouldn't get melancholic with those new fangled up tempo songs.

The fact that I was so horny and foolish enough to act on it is part of what makes me smile about it. What a smooth player I was trying to take advantage of that emotionally hurt girl like that :shame:. I didn't push it any further though and I can't say regret anything I did that evening. I knew she had a good night too.

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Originally Posted by Galain_Ironhide

Memories often flood back to me, generally when I am alone. Old things of the past, maybe some things I could of done better, maybe some things I should of not done at all. But the better memories are of good times with good friends, and also the birth of my son just over a year and a half ago.

I often remedy this problem by turning on the TV or playing M2TW. Or drinking, that normally kills those pesky brain cells. :clown:

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I can't say I regret much. I certainly don't feel regret when I get melancholic. Sure I've done stupid, sometimes unforgivable things but who hasn't. I only regret not doing as many stupid things as I could've done.


Oh, if you also have a particular memory you're very fond of, I like to hear about it.

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Originally Posted by Peasant Phill

A sign of wisdom you says you, a sign of nothing better to think about says I. But in all seriousness, it is in such moments that I feel quite pleased with what I've accomplished so far and that I'm happy to be alive.

Ah Good old Wannes. I have the same feeling with Willem Vermandere (Kasteelke van schelptjes en zand, Blanche en zijn peerd en Duizend soldaten). I bit old for my taste, but then again you wouldn't get melancholic with those new fangled up tempo songs.

The fact that I was so horny and foolish enough to act on it is part of what makes me smile about it. What a smooth player I was trying to take advantage of that emotionally hurt girl like that :shame:. I didn't push it any further though and I can't say regret anything I did that evening. I knew she had a good night too.

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Maybe that just might be it. Most of these memories of me are about foolish things. Maybe it's that longing to that being foolish, without worries, and everything is fine like it is. You didn't well you know, but that didn't matter. Maybe that's just it what we are longing for.

I may only be 15, but I hoave those moments from time to time. Like thinking on old friends, seeing the the frist book I ever did read, or looking over old correspondence. Hell, MTW makes me melancholic (soo many lovely memories :evil:) Anyways, as i am bad at writing these messages and not feeling melancholic at the moment, I will just have to let you go for now.

(I am sorry you had to hear my ramblings...)

Dunno if anyone knows what I'm talking about but playing FIFA Soccer Manager 97 or Age of Empires make me feel like that.

college is making me melancholic. I need to adjust lol

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Originally Posted by Caledonian Rhyfelwyr

Dunno if anyone knows what I'm talking about but playing FIFA Soccer Manager 97 or Age of Empires make me feel like that.

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Ah yes, how could I forget the much sought after AOE feeling?

Long ago when I was a teenager, I worked as a counselor at a summer camp. It was the happiest, most enriching time of my life. I was much less controlling that the other counselors, and allowed the boys in my charge quite a bit of freedom. Hence, I was very popular among them--but they all knew where the boundaries of that freedom were, and respected them.

There was this one eight-year-old kid, Jeremy, who just shined--in sports, creative activities, and socially. His cabin counselor Tom was a close friend of mine, an extremely creative, and weird, guy. He wasn't as tolerant as I was sometimes, but I guess I could afford to be so, given I was a roaming counselor that year and wasn't assigned to a specific cabin all the time.

It was Wednesday of the second week of Jeremy's stay with us, and we were down at the pool during free period in the late afternoon. He was being a minor nuisance as usual, splashing the older girls here and there as they sunbathed, grinning wickedly the whole time. I was getting a kick out of it; he was a prankster after mine own heart. Tom had to deal with Jeremy all the time and grew annoyed, particularly when Jeremy kept on after Tom asked him several times to stop. Tom decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. Now, Jeremy was not wearing swimwear. He was dressed in t-shirt, shorts and sneakers, splashing the girls from the side of the pool. Tom quietly dove, and surfaced near him, and cut loose a tidal wave, drenching him. The girls laughed and Tom said, "so how do you like it?"

I thought it was an appropriate consequence and started to leave, but then I noticed Jeremy's expression as he turned and walked off, dripping. I noticed the hunch of his shoulders and the slow, plodding rhythm of his normally spry gait. I figured I better check on him, and followed.

I caught up with him on the landing at the base of winding stairs that linked upper camp with the lower area where the pool was. He was in tears. I was shocked, as Jeremy was a tough nut and very high-spirited, not one to be so easily upset. I sat and asked what was the matter. He said, "this is all I have to wear!" Now, laundry went out Wednesday mornings and didn't come back until Friday afternoon. I still couldn't understand why it would be so upsetting, but I didn't reveal that. I just said "come on," and headed to my cabin.

I had plenty of clean shorts and socks and T-shirts. I let him wear my special bush stomper T-shirt, which you had to earn in the bush stomping races that only staff could participate in (a rather dangerous 2-mile race down the rocky mountainsides; Tom tended to win, being one crazy kamikaze mofo). I don't know why, but this really tickled Jeremy. We had been friendly, but now were were friends.

When the last day of that session came and his parents arrived, I greeted them and had a nice conversation. When it came time for them to leave, Jeremy, again out of character, wrapped his arms around my legs and cried, not wanting to leave. I was deeply moved, and I could tell his parents were rather surprised. I knelt, and told him that we'd see each other again. I'd even make a special trip to visit him if that's what it took. We finally got him in the car. I'll never forget his face, looking back sadly out of the rear window as they drove down the road to civilization.

Months later, I went with my greater family to see Jean-Pierre Rampal perform in Berkeley, CA, USA. Mom, Dad, Bro, Grandma and Grandpa, Auntie, and our beloved piano teacher of many years all went, and it was a great time. Jeremy lived in Berkeley. After the concert and our follow-up lunch out, I asked if they would be willing to stop by with me and visit Jeremy and his family. They agreed.

I was impressed by the large, beautiful house and opulent neighborhood. We were greeted by a smiling Dad, and he called for Jeremy, saying he had visitors. Jeremy came into the hall, his eyes popped out of his head, and he ran and jumped on me and gave me a huge hug. I was rather embarrassed, being that I was a teenager and much too cool for such behavior in public. But I just blushed and hugged him back, set him down and ruffled his hair as he grinned at me, eyes shining.

He proceeded to lead me around his house, introducing me to his annoying little brother Sammie (annoying to Jeremy, not to me), showing me the harpsichord his father built from a kit, his big dog Marble, his pet bunnies and the budgies (birds) that his father raised in hatches in the backyard. Mom and Dad entertained my family while Jeremy had me commandeered. It was great fun.

When I and my family made to leave, Jeremy's mom and dad approached me, saying they had a proposition. Why not stay for a week? Now, I have never been particularly spontaneous, preferring to plan and organize. I stammered, "well, I don't know ... I can't wear these clothes for a week ...." Dad grinned and said, "oh, I think I have some clothes you can fit into, and we'll pick up anything else you need." Mom (who is paraplegic and in a wheel chair) said, "and you will make yourself useful, rest assured. We all do our part around here." I looked at my folks and they were fine with it. When I looked at Jeremy, I realized there was no way he was taking no for an answer. So, I stayed with them for a week, and a very fun week it was.

We went swimming almost every day at the local pool. We roamed the UC Berkeley campus and toured the Lawrence Hall of Science where Jeremy's dad worked when he wasn't teaching, and the botanical gardens. We went and saw the film Tron when it first came out, marvelling at the AWESOME special effects (lol ...). We slept out on the deck in sleeping bags, looking up at the stars and talking late into the night about our camp adventures. It was a unexpected week which I will never, ever forget.

Jeremy came back to camp the following summer, and I was working there again. Before he arrived, he sent me a package containing edible goodies (snacks were a premium at camp) crepe paper streamers (for my late night staff tea parties; I was the only staffer with my own cabin, directly under the youngest boys, and we often gathered there after the kids were to bed, keeping them awake), and a cluster of rocks taped together with a note on it: "for throwing." Not throwing rocks in the camp proper was a rule which I did enforce, and Jeremy knew it. He had a good sense of humor. I still have them, in my treasure box.

We exchanged letters back and forth over a few years after camp, then life took its course. I joined rock bands and went out on the road, and we lost contact. Many years later on a whim, a friend and I drove up to the old camp site, not knowing what to expect. The camp had shut down many years before, but lo and behold, one of the gal counselors I knew well had married the son of the camp's owners and had settled there. She told me that Jeremy had grown up and come back as a counselor, and eventually became head counselor. She said he was one of the best they'd ever had.

It was eerie, sitting alone out on The Point that evening, gazing off into the beautiful folding hills that surrounded the area and watching the mists rise, the camp site silent except for the chirping of crickets and an occasional rustle of small animals in the brush. I lost myself in memories for a time ... remembering all the laughing, smiling faces and wild, crazy activities, all the lessons learned and bonds forged. My eyes grow heavy and my throat swells to think of it now.

Those were the best of times.