I went to an event for my club the other day
but it was about the golden age of the club
– before I had joined.
I try not to take that personally.
I don’t think anyone is actually saying,
“It all went downhill when you came along.”
I don’t think anyone is really thinking of me at all,
which is probably worse.

I first joined the club
because I’d heard about the club
during its golden age
(read about it, actually)
and thought it was the kind of club
that should have me as a member.

I became the secretary
– or the chronicler –
maybe I was the scribe.
I don’t know. There weren’t actually formal roles
in the club. The club’s kind of a metaphor, actually.
Maybe it’s more like an analogy?
Whatever. I became important there,
but I was always looking backwards
hoping to be part of the club’s history,
the days I heard about, but had missed.

I was nostalgic for an era I had never known
which is called anemoia
which I just learned by looking it up.

I was part of something pretty great
and I’m pretty sure there are people
who think I experienced the golden age
of the club myself, and they may experience anemoia
over my early days, too.

Everyone might be nostalgic over a period
they never got to enjoy,
forgetting the awesome days they lived through.

My time at the club was pretty cool,
it’s true.