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Friends and other people who know me have often been astonished with my good memory-the way that I can remember specific dates, events, and other reminiscences.

I don’t think my good memory is anything to get excited about-though some people seem to think so. Perhaps a lot has to do with where I am at-you know, living alone here in Korea where waxing nostalgic is one of my hobbies. I have to admit, when it comes to waxing nostalgic, I am pretty good at it.

There are some things that I just haven’t forgotten because they were special and important when they happened-like the first time I went to McDonald’s and had a cheeseburger, fries and vanilla shake.

That’s what I was thinking about today when I went to Mickey D’s on the first floor of Home plus-about a mile-and-a-half down the road from the Woosong Language Institute and the Fifth Floor Fitness Club. I was thinking about the first time I had a cheeseburger, fries and vanilla shake while I was ordering, you guessed it, a cheeseburger, fries and vanilla shake.

I know what you are thinking about right now-especially if you read my blog last week about tips for a successful workout and my concept of a “cheat meal”-what the heck are you doing ordering this? Well, I didn’t say that I had to eat all my cheat meals on one day-I like to spread them out over the week and with my weight still at 75 kilos, give me a break, or in the parlance of McDonald’s, I deserved a break today-a McDonald’s break. You know, how that jingle used to go, “you deserve a break today, yada yada yada….”

Now about that first time I went to McDonald’s-it must have been back in either 1965 or 1966 in Bloomington, Illinois. I was with my grandparents and we were coming back from a suburb of St. Louis after visiting my Uncle Ron. My grandfather was not too keen on taking I-55 to St. Louis, so after having gone south on Rt. 51, he crossed over to Rt. 66 in Bloomington-yes, the Rt. 66 all the way to St. Louis.

And that’s the way we had come back, stopping off at that McDonald’s in Bloomington on Rt. 51 that ran through Bloomington and Normal.

As soon as I saw those Golden Arches, which to me will forever remind me of the first time I went to McDonald’s, I jumped up and down in the backseat of the orange Plymouth, about as much as an eight-year-old could in the backseat and begged my grandparents to stop. Well, you know how grandparents are when it comes to spoiling their grandchildren and it didn’t take too much begging on my part for my grandfather to navigate that 1959 or 1960 Plymouth with the “shark fins” in the back.

Cars were like tanks back then and required some darn good driving skills to get in and out of parking lots. Come to think of it, today’s SUV’s, luxury cars or Humvees have nothing on those classic cars of the 50’s or early 60s when it comes to cruising the streets in style. Give me a car from that time period any time.

After my grandfather found a parking place big enough to park a bus, he pulled in and I bounded out of the car; well, not exactly bounded out. I had to wait for my grandmother to put down the seat for me (it was a two-door Plymouth) for me to get out, not to mention give me a few dollars. Then I bounded, no I think skipped is probably what I did, into McDonald’s.

And when I emerged a few minutes later with my food, my grandmother who would often tell this part of the story, told everyone how I was grinning from ear to ear when I walked back to the car, and what would be another first for me-to eat that cheeseburger and fries and drink that shake in the backseat.

It’s nice to remember something special. My own cheeseburger in paradise-the paradise of my youth and the memories I cherish.