Sunday Morning Coffee — May 24, 2026 — Reminiscence Bumping
By Roy Berger, Las Vegas, NV
I certainly don’t mean to get personal but how’s your reminiscence bump? Mine’s not so bad, thanks for asking.
You know, the reminiscence bump, things we seem to retain a lot easier from our childhood when our minds were fresh and not overloaded with all the trivia we’ve accumulated throughout the years. The reminiscence bump filled with life’s firsts— school, friends, heartbreak, kiss, food. Today we forget names and what we did on Tuesday way too easily. There’s too much data in the silo. The reminiscence bump is friendly and easy.
Cognitive experts tell us the human brain recalls youth the best of all our eras. There is high memory storage during the years of self-discovery typically beginning about the time we hit 10.
Then through the decades we begin information overload which leads to memory fatigue as modern life bombards our brains daily. Our minds get so cluttered that we begin to discard older items and thoughts to make room for new ones. But the reminiscence bump always hangs around. And for most, that’s a good thing.
So, with today’s complicated world and tedious 24-hour-news cycle , I thought I’d close my eyes for a bit, actually during a root canal this past week, and tempt that reminiscence bump.
No doubt you have your own list, but maybe you’ll recognize some of these from sixty, sixty-five years ago on Long Island that did and still does make me smile:
The end of every Cub Scout meeting.
A Creamsicle.
Wearing a baseball uniform.
Avoiding Rudy Kemper in dodgeball.
An open-faced hot turkey sandwich on the elementary school lunch menu for twenty-five cents.
Doing six hip twirls with a hula hoop.
Rocking the baby with a Duncan.
The Shirelles.
A pogo stick.
Watching a Slinky walk down a staircase.
My cool blue Pez dispenser.
Any Dave Clark Five song.
Drake’s Ring Dings.
The bus ride home from school.
Any Pittsburgh Pirates’ win.
Mom’s spaghetti and meatballs.
My Zorro lunch box.
The Ed Sullivan Show, except for Topo Gigio.
The mailman bringing me the new Sporting News.
Hostess Twinkies.
A cold winter night listening to Marty Glickman’s play-by-play of the Knicks and Rangers on my Sharp transistor radio.
The Kramdens and the Nortons.
Bobby Hull’s slapshot.
Joe Namath, shoulders slumped, barking signals over center.
WMCA radio “Good Guys.”
Officer Joe Bolton
The OCD melody of the Good Humor truck.
Doing the Hokey Pokey.
Helen Crump.
Meadowlark Lemon.
Bob Hope.
Norm Crosby.
Crazy Guggenheim.
Cassius Clay on a rant.
Toody and Muldoon on Car 54 patrol.
Herman Munster’s laugh.
Anticipation the night before summer sleepaway camp begins.
The first night after summer camp ends sleeping in my own bed again.
Grandpa slipping me $10 every weekend.
Carvel swirling in a cup.
Playing catch with Dad on the side of the house.
Elbowing my brothers every time we walked past each other.
The hammock under the weeping willow tree.
Watching Mom and her friends play mahjong. Four bam, three dot, whatever that meant.
The smell of my grandmother’s latkes frying.
Eating the latkes.
School canceled for snow.
Reading the Long Island Press sports section.
Borrelli’s pizza.
Going to the bowling alley, Bowlerama, on Tuesday nights with Dad and his friends.
Any baseball player’s autograph.
Howard Cosell’s Speaking of Sports, every morning at 7:25 am, on WABC radio.
The New York World’s Fair in 1964-65. Eating at the Brass Rail.
A hamburger, fries and egg cream at Bernie’s luncheonette. Give him a dollar and get thirty-cents change.
A black & white ice cream soda at Jahn’s.
Going out to dinner on Sunday night, every Sunday night, with the fam.
A phone in my room.
A toasted strawberry Pop-Tart for breakfast right before school.
Taking the Long Island Railroad to New York City.
Christmas week on Miami Beach.
Reading NY Daily News sports columnist Dick Young.
Patty and Cathy Lane. Identical cousins, different as night and day.
Jackie Vernon on Ed Sullivan.
Vaughn Meter impersonating JFK on Ed Sullivan.
Orange Starbust.
Adjusting the red in Superman’s cape with our new Admiral color TV.
Perry White. Great Caesar’s ghost!
Uncle Martin, my favorite Martian.
Don Rickles. The GOAT.
That little dab of Brylcreem in my very fashionable for the era flattop.
To Tell The Truth and What’s My Line.
The Match Game with Gene Rayburn and that great opening tune. DaDaDum, DaDaDum….
An aging Casey Stengel trying to explain why the ‘62 Mets were so bad and forgetting his players’ names.
DJ’s Cousin Brucie and Dandy Dan Ingram.
Sergeants Bilko and Carter.
Broderick Crawford on Highway Patrol. 10-4.
Abbott and Costello.
Soupy Sales.
A Lionel train set.
The Three Stooges, except with the Joe’s—Besser and DeRita.
The enormity of Wilt Chamberlin and Haystacks Calhoun.
Wondering how Jim Nabors could sing like he did when he talked so funny?
Watching Hullabaloo and Shindig.
The last line of my bar-mitzvah Torah portion.
Playing two-handed pinochle at the kitchen table with my friend Phil.
A Roberto Clemente baseball card.
And finally, but by no means last in my reminiscence bump order, in fact maybe top of the line-up— Laura Petrie. Mary Tyler Moore, too. Va-va-va-voom!
Got your list?
I’m proud that Medjet is sponsoring Sunday Morning Coffee. I spent 20 wonderful years with Medjet in Birmingham, Alabama, and can tell you unequivocally they are the standard-bearer for medical assistance membership programs. A talented staff, who cares about its members, is at the forefront of the company’s success. Whether you are traveling for business or pleasure, domestic or international, a Medjet membership should be an important part of your travel portfolio before you leave home. Check out the Medjet website at medjet.com or just tap on the Medjet logo and you’ll be able to get a look at Medjet’s services, rules and regulations, pricing, and an overview of the organization. And remember, any opinions expressed in Sunday Morning Coffee content or comments belong to the author and not the sponsor. Safe travels with your Medjet membership! — Roy Berger