Pretty much sums up the last year. Life lessons, right?
Monthly Archives: July 2012
We live in a world of constant communication. Texts, email, YouTube, Wikipedia, etc. Instant access to information and lots of words. Constant streams of mostly meaningless communication.
But have you ever thought about the little words? To me the smallest phrases have the most meaning.
It’s a boy/girl
Good things come in small packages.
Don’t neglect the little words today.
Ok, so I’m seriously dating myself here. If you’ve ever made, or received, a mix tape you’re probably in my age group. These are a relic of the past. Today it’s all about playlists. I don’t even think people burn CDs anymore.
Maybe it’s because I’m still a musician at heart, but I’ve always associated people, places and events with certain songs or pieces of music. The right song on the radio can transport me back to the memory of where I was, what I was doing and what was important in life during that time.
In cleaning out my desk stuff, I came across a couple of mix tapes. One was made for me by a dear friend. Band Camp songs 1988. Wow. Funny how just reading the song titles she had so carefully written on the cassette label brought back all the memories and angst of my summer at 16.
The other was a copy of a tape I made for a special person on an anniversary. I remember slaving for weeks over that thing- constantly listening to the radio so I could tape a certain song when it came on, borrowing other tapes from friends and scouting out the cassette singles at Radio Shack to find the perfect mix of songs. Then the hours spent copying and dubbing each one onto a master tape. Lots and lots of work.
My kids won’t ever get this. In this world of iTunes, playlists and apps, any son is instantly available. To me it takes some of the fun out of it. Remember calling in a request to a radio station and waiting expectantly for them to play it? Such a big deal back in the day.
Is anyone else like this? Do you associate music with people places and things? Or is it just running constantly in the background? Stop, take a moment and just listen. You might be surprised.
Ok. I finally broke down. Broke down and got The Book. The Book that every woman in my age group is supposedly swooning over. My opinion? Meh. The writing is awful. Mrs. Brown taught me to write a better story in high school. At least Nora Roberts can create a good plot. His hair is tousled and copper-colored. We get it. Don’t need reminders every time he shows up. The guy can’t comb his hair – got it. She bites her lip a lot. Got it. If there were a drinking game for those two sentences alone it would be bad news. Character development? None. Can’t get past that, thanks to Babs, my other HS English teacher. Ironic, considering that Babs made everything written about sex. Juicy bits? Ok, they’re juicy- but not enough to make me ignore the horrible writing.. Just sayin’… And, yes, I got this on my Kindle. There’s no way I wanted anyone knowing what I was reading. The guys at the office would make my life hell- deservedly so. Won’t be reading the sequel. That’s just my two cents.
Some people are blessed with good memories. I’d like to think of myself as one of those people. But I ain’t got nothing on my spouse. His memory is not only good, it’s freakishly detailed, calendar-oriented, and scarily accurate. Don’t argue with him about what happened in June of 1985. He will win. Every time. I’ve seen it at family gatherings – his mom or dad will mention some memory of when he and his brother were little and it starts. Bro-in-law throws out a date, spouse counters, and it’s on. It’s on like Donkey Kong – and keeps going until my spouse has not only refuted all other opinions, but thrown out five, six or ten pieces of supporting evidence that also occurred in the vicinity of said event on the timeline.
He’s probably some kind of memory-date-savant. Cause for the really important dates he can also give you the time of the event, give or take fifteen minutes or so.
Not so with me. My memory is more photographic, and centered around important events. I can remember my kids’ birthdays, elementary school teachers, anniversary, stuff like that. But my memory is more relative, as in, I can do the math and figure out what year Empire Strikes Back premiered – but don’t have instant recall.
This post is going nowhere. Stick with me, it’s Sunday night and I am slowly meandering to a point. It goes back to my student planners I found in my desk box the other day. And for the one or two of you who will read this, maybe you can help me out.
Memory is subjective, right? Back in high school I had a couple of English teachers who made us learn about all of these different ‘isms’ in literature. Existentialism, transcendentalism, nihilism, etc. etc. I couldn’t tell you what any of them are right now (but I could Google it) – but I remember learning about one philosophy that still freaks me out. The basis being that there is, in fact, no reality. What is real to each one of us is just a figment of our imagination. Very Matrix-like. The point being that no one really knows what happens and that an objective view of any situation is impossible. What I see and experience is totally different from you. Ten points to anyone who can name this philosophy – it’s been bugging me for years.
Back to memory. So in reading through the mundane to-do lists from my life as a music major, there were a few important events scattered here and there. But I wonder – does anyone else remember them? It’s funny how something can seem so life-changing to one person but be completely overlooked by another. Huh. I guess it’s all about subjectivity. I give value to that which I deem important, and forget about the rest. It’s just kind of weird to think that the major stuff has been forgotten. And that moment in a conversation when you ask ‘Do you remember last year, when…?’ and mention something that was really fun/important/memorable. And the response is ‘Not really.’ Awkward. Wonder if everyone has those moments, or it’s just me. I guess it’s my self-centeredness that assumes that other people place the same value on memory as I do.
Life lesson #456. They don’t.
Has anyone else ever thought about this stuff? What if you were the only one that had memories of certain times in your life?