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Souvenirs

“A picture postcard
A folded stub
A program of the play
File away your photographs
Of your holiday”

Those words are from Billy Joel’s song, Souvenir.  I heard that song for the first time in a long time yesterday.  When I listened to it, my mind went immediately to my own travels and the souvenirs I gained from them.  It made me think about some of my favorite mementos.

New York, New York:  Manhattan is littered with souvenir shops and streetside vendors hawking all sorts of t-shirts and trinkets.  It is a translucent cube with the Statue of Liberty and the words “New York” etched onto it.  From the base, a series of pastel-colored lights illuminate the cube, the colors changing every few seconds.  It is odd, gaudy and practically screams “tourist.”  But, I think that is why I love it.

Greenlake, Seattle:  Taking a sunset walk one summer evening, the typically bustling lakefront park was oddly quiet.  The sky was a graying pink.  The last glints of sunlight bounced off of the lake, silhouetting the few people around it.  I stopped to take a photo, expecting the low light to render the scene indiscernible.  Instead, what I got was a shadowed reminder of that trip and the people who were there with me.

San Juan, Puerto Rico:  I did not make this trip, my father did, but I still got a souvenir.  It is a brightly colored little ceramic caravan, no larger than a Hot Wheels car.  Filled to capacity with miniature people and boxes, the words “San Juan” are emblazoned on it in simple block lettering.  I do not really know why I love it, but I do.

From photos and figurines to touristy tchotchkes, souvenirs take many forms.  Each one different and each a reminder of a moment … a person … a place.

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