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# Pegasus
- URL: https://www.jamesreeves.co/pegasus/
- Published: 2020-08-23T23:32:00.000Z
- Updated: 2025-11-15T03:49:57.000Z
- Author: James A. Reeves
- Tags: Autobiography, Notebook

What is the power of a first memory? They are such peculiar creatures, these fuzzy impressions and garbled snapshots that teach us how to see the world. I’m pretty sure [my first memory](http://jamesr323.sg-host.com/televised-memories/?ref=jamesreeves.co) is bawling at the mannequin in the opening credits of *Happy Days*, which led to a childhood phobia that required my mom to cover my eyes whenever we entered a department store. This gradually mellowed into a grown-up interest in the uncanny valley.

Another early memory came to mind the other night while I idled in a Taco Bell parking lot and ate a Crunchwrap Supreme because sometimes I hate myself. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I caught a shift in the light that left me remembering a hot summer night spent laying in the backseat while *Superman* played at a drive-in theater (or, after doing the math, more likely *Superman II)*. My parents sat in the front seats watching, but I was facing the other direction, staring out the back window at a red neon horse with wings. It was the old Pegasus sign for Mobil gas station, and I remember thinking that winged creature in the sky must have something to do with words like *heaven* and *god*.

My first reaction to this memory is sorrow for my parents because I’m sure they didn’t choose the movie. So there they were, dutifully watching *Superman II* on my behalf while I preferred to watch a gas station sign. But I have a hunch this small moment cemented my lifelong fixation on night driving and [lonesome gas stations](http://jamesr323.sg-host.com/night-stations/?ref=jamesreeves.co).