Many SoulCasters are masters at maintaining a journal.  Most seem to choose the written journal recording deep thoughts, powerful emotions and wonderous dreams.  I m envious of those of you who have the patience and ingenuity to record your lives for posterity.  Some time ago I realized that capusulizing in splot form allows me to recall lifes events with great clarity.  Let me explain how I came to this realization. 

While digging in the far recesses of my closet I grasped a garment.  I immediately knew by its texture that I was grasping a wonderful beige ulra-suede sport coat from 1981.  I m sure you remember that stuff....sort of slimy feeling but an essential to the wardrobe of every well dressed man at the time.  It is intensly splatted with a very delicious vintage red wine.  Scratch it and the olfactory senses pick up its faint aroma.  It was served at a gala event hosted by the RCMP in our little community.  As I ponder that stain I remember the music, the meal, the conversation from that lovely evening.  We danced the night away.   We smiled and laughed.  As long as I retain that jacket I ll never need to write the details of that night.  They re nasally fresh immediately.

Further excavation drew out my wonderful John Travoltaesque white three piece suit.  The vest bears the vestiges of the buffet served on New Years in San Diego.  Fine stringy blobs of cheese from a wonderful fondue gracelessly decorate it.  Hah!  I even found the two toned platform shoes that made me look tall in minds eye.  In actuallity they helped make me walk like I was already tipsy.  They too still have a flop of marinara sauce dead center on the right toe.  Just viewing the splottage brings to mind the crystal chandeliers, the harpist playing, the hundreds of people wending their way through the ballroom and the marvels of the entertainment.

My hand next fell upon my silver grey tux with the rich burgandy cumberbund and crisp ruffled white shirt.  None of which circumnavigate my mid-section anymore.  They re reminders of the night I delivered my acceptance speach for the Man of the Year Award.  You guessed it.........smack down the ruffles are the drizzlings of the scrumptious creme carmelthat was the crowning glory to an incredible banquet.  The drizzles accompanied me to the podium.  They immediately refresh the memory of the shining faces, the applause and the congratulatory messages.

Dried watermelon flesh and seeds still crust the Mexican wedding shirt I wore to the family reunion picnic.  Just one glance brings all the faces to my memory.  The aunts and uncles now gone come to mind.  The games we played and the fun we had reminiscing about our childhood are all firmly attached to those pink and black blobs.  As long as that shirt holds the memories I ll never need to write them.

A wonderous cherry punch was served at my cousins wedding in the Banff Springs Hotel.  The splooshes of it enhance the lavender silk tie that looked so stunning with my pearl grey suit.  It wears the dribbles from the chocolate & fruit fountain served during the late evening cocktail time.  A few hundred friends and family gathered at the most expensive hotel in our area comes to mind when I see those mementos.  The strains of the orchestral music floating up in the cavernous castle like reaches as the bride and groom gracefully circled the floor for their first dance come immediately to my recall.  No need for a video when I ve got blotchies to do the job.

There was a time when I destested my infallable sloppage but I ve grown to realize that it provides me with memories permanently etched into my mind not only by my inability to transport food from a plate to my mouth but also by the mortification of the moment.  My fame for wearing whatever is served gives me a certain amount of attention at gatherings.  Its inevitable that at least one person will comment about what menu item I ve managed to use to enhance my apparel.

You ll never be invited to read my memoires but you re welcome to sit back and enjoy a showing of my blottages.  C'mon by my place, pull up a chair and I ll whip up some spillables so you too can have a garment of memories.  I ll even offer coaching in the fine art of dribbling.

Dont be a stranger now.