A grand feeling

Who knows why, really, that rather obscure memories sometimes just pop into our heads? 

Yesterday and without any obvious prompting I remembered buying $100,000 candy bars, now called 100 Grand, at the bookstore at the University of Detroit as a freshman 43 years ago. They were a quarter each at the time. I would buy four and savor them over the course of a day. 

The memory came out of nowhere and was so strong I could damn near taste the chocolate and crisped rice. A happiness flowed over and through me which was virtually indescribable. I truly felt like I was back in the Student Union building on campus enjoying a quiet moment between classes. It was that powerful and sublime.

I wasn't in a party store and I wasn't hungry.  Indeed I had no desire for a snack at all. There were no ads in the paper I had just read and the radio was not on to perhaps have set things in motion. I was sitting at my desk at the Shop waiting for a customer to arrive, sipping on a coffee. Then suddenly I was at old U of D and feeling very good about it.

It's a feeling I cannot recreate with any satisfaction even as I try to writing this morning. I can't come near it. But man, it was profound this past Saturday morning and I simply have no clue what triggered it.