“What’s the coolest thing that you remember from when you were a kid?”
I thought hard. There was a million things that I remembered, a million little tidbits that to me seemed like little chunks of gold in a fast moving stream. I knew that if I were to bring the things that I remembered out of my stream of conciousness and dusted the sand and muck off, then exposed them to the world, or to Janice, that then some of them would seem dumb and worthless. Fool’s gold memories, things that seemed like treasures until someone else heard them and then told you that they were worthless.