Over the holidays, I had the opportunity to visit with some friends, two brothers with whom I was very tight through a patch of semi-formative years: late High School and slightly beyond. In young adulthood we drifted apart a bit, but we've always kept in some kind of touch, however loosely, and seem to be a bit more now, as we're well into middle age.(Funny that at this age- middle age, with all its concomitant health issues, when we talk about drugs, it's no longer in the recreational sense). Our running-around-together years were some 4 decades ago though, and I was somewhat surprised that I still remembered the phone number at their folks' house- a number I haven't called since then!
I say somewhat surprised because I seem to be able to retain and recall things at times, particularly dates. Got people commenting on it, as my Dad would say. I used to hear it a lot at work, both from clients and co-workers, that my memory was good. It's flattering. Thanks! Nice to have at least one cognitive function that's working, at least for now. And it sure beats the hell out of some of the other stuff people feel compelled to tell you--like(in my case) boy are you short!
So I mentioned to my friends my still having their folks' phone number in my head, and then(this is where I should've stopped there, like that one drink too many)went on to say that I've been told I had a good memory. One of them asked me my own (parents')home phone number: 544-something?
I drew a complete blank. Felt a bit like the Warner Bros character Michigan J Frog, who clams up the minute his gifts are put to the test. (You were wondering when I was gonna get to the frog, weren't you? I'd have been..)I guess I was bragging a bit, and then all my 'great' memory could say was ribbbit..
Once I was home--I guess, with no one to impress, no potential for self-aggrandizement--the frog was singing away. The number was clear as a bell: 544-1677. (You might have been wondering when I was gonna get to that as well). And not only that one, but 544-4444. A different friend and I called that number. We'd have been 8 or 9. The person on the other end always answered, "Duhh, hello?" much to our delight. Wow, I haven't called that one in over half a century. Wonder if I'd get that same person on the phone..
On one other recent occasion, I was a bit of a hot dog about my apparent ability to remember figures. Gave out a phone number I was cocksure to be right, and was one digit off, giving the caller access to a dating service(it was supposed to be for their unemployment). The frog was singing this time but he screwed up the song. He was in a different key.
Strangely enough, other people can tell me, 'hey, you're good at this', but if I say it or intimate it in some way, I end up falling on my face. Maybe it's like the Biblical admonition: he who exalts himself will be humbled; and he who humbles himself will be exalted. And maybe just a coincidence I made into a 'life lesson'. But for whatever reason, I have decided never to declare myself to have a good memory or a good anything(or a good one-of-those--well, if the temperature's fairly warm..), but rather leave that to others. Just seems to work out better.
Well that's all I had to say in this blog, so you can go now, or stick around and read my V-8 alternative idea.
Okay, you're still here. Well, with the head-smacking, 'I coulda had a V-8', I think the basic idea is much better expressed in the movie Punchline. Tom Hanks plays a stand-up comic(a bitter, brilliant Lenny Bruce-type)who flunks out of Medical School in the opening scene. In the oral exam, naming the parts of the body aiding in lower digestion, he says poop chute, at which point the examiners all get up and leave. Right after they've left the room, he smacks his forehead and says, RECTUM!
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