The (Occasional) Curse Of Memory
OPEN: JANUS FILE #0240
I think I may have mentioned once or twice that I have a near-eidetic memory. Virtually everything I read, see, or hear seems to be locked away in various dark recesses of my brain, just waiting for the right stimulus to trigger an information recall.
(If you're familiar with the series Criminal Minds, look at Dr. Spencer Reid. That's me, although I don’t have a PhD, nor do I carry a gun. And I'm definitely nowhere near as good-looking as Matthew Gray Gubler.)
This particular ability of mine can make things . . . interesting. My parents don't like watching Jeopardy! with me. I have this tendency to play along, and I usually have the question before Alex Trebek finishes reading the answer. And depending what the categories are, I would say that I'm right at least 85% of the time. (No, I've never tried out for the show. I would be worried that I couldn't at least match the record of my friend Steven Silver, who was a two-day champion several years ago.)
Then there are times when my memory recall can be downright irritating. Some random memory will be triggered, and I will have no idea how ow why it was triggered. I only know that the memory has resurfaced, and I am not certain how long it will be until that memory sinks back below the surface into the depths of my subconscious once more.
I had one of those random memory flashbacks a few days ago. For whatever reason, bits and pieces of an old song began playing in my head. A song from the mid-1980s called "I've Never Been To Me."
I know why this song is locked away in my the vaults of my memory. It was a popular song at the time. It was a Top 10 hit; peaking at #3 here in the US, and #1 in England. I heard it quite a bit during its run on the charts. But it doesn't mean I ever want to hear it again. As a matter of fact, I don't want to ever hear it again.
You see, my friends, if you have never heard "I've Never Been To Me," consider yourself among the fortunate. It's almost as bad as Bobby Goldsboro's song "Honey." "I've Never Been To Me" contains more artificial sentiment than an entire Hallmark Gold Crown store. It is so saccharine that it could give 42 different kinds of terminal cancer to every lab rat on the planet. This song is so sappy that even Delilah, the self-proclaimed "queen of sappy love songs," might find this song just a little too much.
And at the moment, I can't get it out of my mind.
There have been a few things that have at least temporarily blocked the random playback. Dave Grusin's theme from St. Elsewhere seems to be doing the job the best. Now that is a composition that I like. And I am hoping that writing this entry will consign this particular memory back into the dark pits of my subconscious once more.
CLOSE: JANUS FILE #0240
I think I may have mentioned once or twice that I have a near-eidetic memory. Virtually everything I read, see, or hear seems to be locked away in various dark recesses of my brain, just waiting for the right stimulus to trigger an information recall.
(If you're familiar with the series Criminal Minds, look at Dr. Spencer Reid. That's me, although I don’t have a PhD, nor do I carry a gun. And I'm definitely nowhere near as good-looking as Matthew Gray Gubler.)
This particular ability of mine can make things . . . interesting. My parents don't like watching Jeopardy! with me. I have this tendency to play along, and I usually have the question before Alex Trebek finishes reading the answer. And depending what the categories are, I would say that I'm right at least 85% of the time. (No, I've never tried out for the show. I would be worried that I couldn't at least match the record of my friend Steven Silver, who was a two-day champion several years ago.)
Then there are times when my memory recall can be downright irritating. Some random memory will be triggered, and I will have no idea how ow why it was triggered. I only know that the memory has resurfaced, and I am not certain how long it will be until that memory sinks back below the surface into the depths of my subconscious once more.
I had one of those random memory flashbacks a few days ago. For whatever reason, bits and pieces of an old song began playing in my head. A song from the mid-1980s called "I've Never Been To Me."
I know why this song is locked away in my the vaults of my memory. It was a popular song at the time. It was a Top 10 hit; peaking at #3 here in the US, and #1 in England. I heard it quite a bit during its run on the charts. But it doesn't mean I ever want to hear it again. As a matter of fact, I don't want to ever hear it again.
You see, my friends, if you have never heard "I've Never Been To Me," consider yourself among the fortunate. It's almost as bad as Bobby Goldsboro's song "Honey." "I've Never Been To Me" contains more artificial sentiment than an entire Hallmark Gold Crown store. It is so saccharine that it could give 42 different kinds of terminal cancer to every lab rat on the planet. This song is so sappy that even Delilah, the self-proclaimed "queen of sappy love songs," might find this song just a little too much.
And at the moment, I can't get it out of my mind.
There have been a few things that have at least temporarily blocked the random playback. Dave Grusin's theme from St. Elsewhere seems to be doing the job the best. Now that is a composition that I like. And I am hoping that writing this entry will consign this particular memory back into the dark pits of my subconscious once more.
CLOSE: JANUS FILE #0240