My father-in-law, Rich, keeps a list of important dates in his
wallet: his children’s birthdays, his wife’s birthday and his
wedding anniversary.
My father-in-law, Rich, keeps a list of important dates in his wallet: his children’s birthdays, his wife’s birthday and his wedding anniversary.
“I used to tease him about it,” my husband Chris said earlier this week. “But now I can relate.”
Hey, whatever works. With as much information as our brain holds and soaks up every day, we can’t remember everything, only the good stuff. We have a little filtering system that sorts the cool from the uncool every time we’re presented with new information. Our next appointment with the dentist: not a chance. Next concert date of our favorite band: likely to stick.
Chris’ dad philosophy is if I can write something down why try to remember it?
I can definitely relate.
I once told a colleague that my life resembles an endless list of sticky notes. It seems silly, but I wouldn’t have a prayer without my to-do lists. Go to the grocery store, pick up dry cleaning, buy diapers, make reservations for dinner.
I can even write down a grocery list, promptly leave it at home, but still remember 99.9 percent of everything that’s on the list. Go figure.
Besides the laundry lists, I hold a vast bank of knowledge of random and seemingly useless information. That’s what four years of being a reporter will do to a person. After covering various facets of various communities, I know some things about a lot of stuff. I could tell you that Benicia was once the state capital of California, one-third of senior citizens in Alameda County live by themselves, and Ping’s has the best Chinese food in downtown Pleasanton.
OK, the last tidbit wasn’t exactly job-related.
Then there’s other information I’ve accumulated just from, well, being a woman. Like the carb-count of a bagel and what kind of hosiery won’t snag after one wear.
I’m also pretty good at remembering things like when our theater tickets are good for and the name of an author who wrote a book I want to get my hands on. Again, it’s my filter sorting the stuff I think is cool from all the other mental clutter.
My mother-in-law, Jean, has an enviable memory. Her recollection extends past dates, times, and places to what she was wearing and what her husband ordered for dinner. This is a talent she inherited from her mother, Isabel, whose memory is legendary. Jean won’t only tell you which golf course she played in Ireland, but can describe the 12th hole in great detail down to which way the grain of the green was lying.
For her, it’s all about connecting dates and places with memorable events in time. You can almost see the wheels turning. Faced with the question where did we go on vacation in the spring of 1990, her mind immediately places people in their respective positions. Chris was a senior in high school. Leslie (her daughter) was a freshman. Rich stayed home to care for his dad. Conclusion? I took to the kids to Hawaii, but Chris had just broken his hand and couldn’t go in the water.
My husband, Chris can pull basketball scores, golf’s top 10 money winners, and the names of starting quarterbacks out of his back pocket without warning. It’s got to be a guy thing. Numbers, stats, hard data – they like that stuff.
I can remember once watching the Golf Channel while it replayed the 1996 Master’s Tournament.
“Oh, this is a good one. Nick Faldo won after Greg Norman fell apart after leading the tournament by six shots.”
How is it possible he can remember all that?
Everyone’s mind works in mysterious ways. My father-in-law Rich says it’s not worth worrying about.
“Once you get past 55, it gets really easy. You can’t remember anything,” he said.
Boy, have I got a lot to write down before then.
Kelly Barbazette lives in Gilroy with her husband, Chris, daughter, Emma, and miniature dachshund. She is the owner of Write Now, a copywriting and public relations company in Gilroy. She can be reached at kb*********@***oo.com.
