It's odd the things you think about when you have too much time on your hands, even when, paradoxically, it often feels like there's never enough time in the day to do all the things you need to. When I attended secondary school in the first half of the '70s, for around the first two years, I did so from one house in a particular neighbourhood, and for the next two-and-a-half years, from another house in another neighbourhood.
What I didn't realise at the time though (or at least I have no memory of doing so), was that attending the same school from two different areas had a blurring effect on my awareness of the fact I was now living elsewhere. It would no doubt have been different if I'd switched to another school (as I probably should have) as then the whole fabric of my daily life would've been altered, but as most of my day-to-day experience during school hours was unchanged, my relocation to another house and area didn't seem significant or memorable.
In fact, when I think back to those school days now, unless I can place them according to whatever dated comics I was buying, I'm not always certain exactly which house I was living in when reminiscing about certain things. Did that event happen when I was in the former house or the latter? I remember an art teacher by the name of Mrs. Barclay complimenting me on my drawing of a horse, for which I'd used a Marx Toys Thunderbolt Palomino as reference (so I must've drawn it at home as I didn't take the horse into school with me), but I can no longer recall which house I was living in at the time. (Still got 'im too - see photo above.)
Nowadays my memory is certainly atrophying with alarming alacrity, and I can no longer recollect some things with the same clarity and readiness I once used to, and it's similar to a favourite cassette or video tape getting damaged in the player, resulting in parts being no longer as intelligible or discernible as they once were - only garbled remnants that elude recognition. It almost feels like my past life is being eroded and placed beyond my reach, and if a person no longer has their memories, then just what are they left with?
You ever think about such things, Crivs? And do you have any once fondly-recalled memories that you realise are a little more difficult to access in the caverns of your mind than they used to be? If so, record them in our comments section before they dissolve forever.
8 comments:
I have a good memory which I inherited from my mother but my father had an appalling memory and he even forgot his own birthday every year. He certainly had no idea when MY birthday was or even what year I was born. My mother's memory remained excellent right up until she died aged 77 (in 2009) and I used to test her memory by asking her the date of my birthday, her own birthday, her wedding anniversary etc and she always answered correctly without even hesitating.
When you say your father forgot his own birthday every year, CJ, do you mean he didn't recognise the date as being the day he was born, or that he just never noticed when his birthday was coming up until he was reminded? It's good that your mother's memory remained as sharp as a pin right up until her end.
The second one, Kid - he did know that his birthday was on October 12th but every year on that date he completely forgot it was his birthday until reminded. I'd wish him a happy birthday and he'd look surprised and say "Is it my birthday?" - it happened every year like clockwork.
I think that's happened to me as an adult at least once in my life, CJ. By that I mean in the sense that my birthday was upon me without me realising it until some hours into the actual day.
I can honestly say that's never happened to me, Kid, as I'm fully aware of my approaching birthday for weeks in advance. My birthday is on Feb 17th so as soon as Christmas officially ends on January 6th I enter my pre-birthday period. I mentioned that I have a good memory and every day I try to think of something that happened on this date in the past or, failing that, something notable about this date - so for example today is September 15th which was the birthday of one of my classmates, Ross Evans. The fact that I can still remember my classmates' birthdays after more than 40 years proves I have a pretty good memory I'd say.
I imagine I must've known at some point that my birthday was approaching, CJ, but then completely forgotten about it a few days before. However, I think it only happened the once. I, too, can remember loads of things from 40-plus years ago, but sometimes I forget more recent events. I could argue that when YOU forget I'd already mentioned that Val appeared in TSWLM and NSNA in previous posts, and specifically told you about TSWLM in response to you asking which Bond film she'd been in a couple of years back, then that 'proves' you have a pretty poor memory. (But I won't.)
I suppose that's true, Kid. I tend to have a good memory when it comes to dates but here's something I completely forgot about recently - in November 2013 I switched my phone/internet supplier to the Post Office but after 10 months I switched back to BT and the actual date of my return to BT was September 7th 2014 so last week was the 10th anniversary of that day but I totally forgot about it until yesterday.
Well, you can be forgiven for that, CJ. After all, it's hardly something you'd consider celebrating, eh? Odd to think that the Post Office and BT were once the same company, the GPO.
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