Memory Tricks

I can't tell you exactly how it happened, because I am not a member; but I am on the AARP's e-mail subscription list.  When they have sage advice on certain subjects important to seniors they send them to me. And I thought my 4^th year in college was the last time I’d be a senior.  This week the subject was memory; and I thought I’d share the AARP’s seven tips to help with memory.

These suggestions are intended to address seven apparently common memory issues that strike the senior crowd.  If they have happened to me, I don't remember anything about it.  

They include forgetting the name of the person you were just introduced to, not getting everything on your grocery list, losing your keys, forgetting internet passwords, being unable to recall the name of a movie you just saw, forgetting where you parked your car, and forgetting important dates like birthdays.  

First, to remember a name, "Look, snap and connect."  You are supposed to really look at the person, listen to their name, snap a mental picture of the face and name, and then connect mentally by creating some sort of image that helps your brain connect a visual image to this person.  Really? By the time you have ordinarily forgotten the person's name you are supposed to come up with some clever image that will come to mind when you see this person, like this (let's see, his name is Jim, so I'll picture him at the gym on a treadmill, listening to music with earbuds, and the next time I see him the picture will snap in and I'll know...hey treadmill…that's Ted Mills!  No, wait, walking with earbuds… it's yeah, Bud Walker, or, he’s at the gym…is it Jim?  Yeah, Jim Nasium...  I don't think that one's gonna work for me.  How about if I take a picture of him with my smartphone and enter his contact name while he's standing there thinking--how cool is this, this guy really wants to remember my name?  Or will he be thinking just how weird is this, is he texting my picture somewhere?  (Advantage: smartphone)

For remembering the grocery list, you think up a story to include each item on the list.  I am not making this up, this is the actual example they used: "A chicken was eating cornflakes when a car burst through the wall.  A monkey was driving, throwing oranges out the window, he honked wildly as he drove off a cliff into a lake filled with milk."  Wouldn't it be simpler to write a list on paper, or better yet, on your smartphone like this--chicken, cornflakes, oranges, milk? (Advantage: smartphone) 

For recalling online passwords, create a template that you personalize for each site.  For instance, use a word number combination that's meaningful for you, like your address when you graduated from grammar school.  In my case, that's 331Taylor.  Then, you add the initials of the site, it it's your bank, Band of America, you'd use BA.  It will make sense to you but not to some hacker.  Or, you could make a list of passwords in small print and carry them around like this. Or put them on your smartphone, on one of those apps for your phone just don’t make it too obvious, if you lose your smartphone…. (Advantage: AARP)

Then there's finding your keys.  Just start using a smaller purse, ladies, or don't wear cargo pants, guys.... Oh, you mean at home--well that's easy, just keep a basket by the door and make a habit of putting them there every time you come in.  In fact, make it a bigger basket and you can put all your important stuff in it--like your wallet, spare change, old receipts, chewing gum wrappers, even your smartphone. (Advantage: AARP)

Now, coming up with the name of the movie you just saw.  You know, it's on the tip of your tongue but you just can't spit it out.  AARP says, try remembering the star of the movie with a mental picture that reminds you of the title.  Like what’s-his-name, the guy who was in Spiderman—picture that guy next to two men made of spiders, for Spiderman 2, if you can just remember what’s-his-name's name...  Or, if you ever remember his name, you could just Google it on your smartphone. (Advantage: smartphone)

Finally, how do you go about remembering everyone's birthday?  Well, you can use your Facebook account, which has an accounts notification page you can activate and it will store it under "has a birthday coming."  Not really friends with Facebook?  You can use the calendar function on your smartphone to store this information.  But first you have to find them out somehow, because—remember—you’ve forgotten them. (Advantage: smartphone)

Before I finish, in all seriousness, some people wonder if any of these occasional lapses might be cause to check in with your doctor, they aren’t.  But here are three you should take seriously: 

·      You know you've been forgetting things, but you can't remember what they were, or 

·      You not only don't remember the name of the person you just ran into, you don't recall him or her at all, or

·      You are unable to remember the name of someone quite close to you on a regular basis.  

If those things are happening to you, do this, get out the smart phone, and enter this on your to-do list app—“Make an appointment with that doctor guy before you forget his name.”

My take on this? Just get a smartphone or forget the whole thing. I have one….

By the way, have you seen it?  (Patting my pockets) I thought I put it right here.  

Philadelphia Conjuring

I dreamt you up one night some years ago
in Philadelphia
I swore it was your hat flowing past amidst a sea
of people trudging through the airport.
After a moment, I turned around to follow.

Thinking you had headed out the door,
I stepped outside and glanced around.
I imagined you on that bus with darkened windows,

Gazing out as I looked up and down the walkway,
Then I turned, looking directly at the bus.
Sending a message just in case. you were

Indeed watching, first  shrugged,
then shivered, you and I could not be we
again the way we were once
in St. Louis and on Finley

Why Men Don't Ask Questions

I heard an odd statement made by one woman to another yesterday.  She said, "He doesn't always have all the details, like a woman would.  Men just don't like to ask enough questions."  It was not intended to be offensive as far as I could tell.  She went on to say a few other things not about men, just some other comments about the information needed, and how to get it.  

I thought about it briefly and thought about men's reluctance to ask for directions or for the location of a particular product in a store.  Men just don't want to appear not to know something.  They want to appear knowledgeable, etc., and don't want to show or admit to anything to contradict that image.  Asking a question is a show of weakness or ignorance.  That's my theory anyway.  Men will not ask many questions, they will wander around looking for many minutes to avoid having to stop and ask.

But, there's more.  My wife is a far better conversationalist than I am.  While I can and do form a connection that leads to an enjoyable conversation, it doesn't happen nearly as frequently as it does for her.  She often encounters strangers and initiates a conversation about what seems like nothing at all at first, but winds up lasting much longer than any i might have had.  Sure, it was usually with other women, but not exclusively so.  Is it these conversations that give her (and other women) the  "details" that the woman was referring to?  

I know lots of men who have a well-developed curiosity who pursue details about lots of things, but I don't know if they do that by reading and research or by conversation.  If I had to guess, I'd say it rarely occurs in casual conversation.  Sure, some men are highly competent interrogators, but I don't know many who learn these things in a casual conversation with a stranger.  My guess is that men are also more circumspect about who or what they will talk about.  With that said, I do recall a few actual and many fictional stories in which a man reveals all in "pillow talk."  Don't know what relevance that has, but it came into my head when I was thinking about tight-lipped men who never even discuss with their families their "top secret" activities.  

Is this a matter of introversion vs, extroversion?  I never have read of any studies that examined whether or not gender has any correlation with being an extrovert.  I just don't think that's behind the absence of "details" in the minds of men.  I also don't believe that men have no interest in the details.  They do, men who just have to know number in the hundreds among men I have known in my life.  I think if the information is readily available in a book or by some empirical method, men will have the answer.  But if it must be gained by engaging in a conversation where a man must reveal his ignorance, it is not likely to be in his brain.  Men want everyone to believe they are in charge, and in the know.  I've learned to overcome my reluctance to ask questions, but it has taken a lifetime.  It also was driven by my own tendency to analyze things.  If I weren't so analytical, I would not have undertaken the process of asking questions.  

My bottom line on this one?  Men hate to ask questions that might reflect badly on the self-image they cultivate of being in the know.  Consequently, many of them aren't.

I Visited My Stuff Today

I was just driving along, on my way to the latest of our temporary homes (family this week).  I knew I didn't have my key, but when I rented the storage space, i had given them my spare key to hold in the office, just in case.  It took them a while to find it, organization is not their strong point.  But they finally produced my spare key and I was in.  I pulled our beach cart, laden with chairs and other beach stuff.  then I took out two dining room chairs.  In a minute, I was in there--lighting a battery-operated lantern, unpiling boxes, only some of which had been marked, and some of which had fallen to the ground.  One box i didn't open sounds suspiciously like broken glass.

I could tell where my books were, but couldn't reach them without doing a wholesale restacking.  But I know they're there, and a few of their titles are visible through the see-through plastic tubs that hold them (Yes, I put all three forms of there there, i.e., they're, there and their).

I found two of our coffee makers, and brought one out with me.  Our host home (the place we are mooching this week) is not normally inhabited by coffee drinkers, so I have been obliged to drive to Starbucks each morning, and I'd rather watch the sun come up over the trees.  I found  my spare eyeglasses, too (important because i am blind without them).  I saw box after box marked kitchen or pantry, but knew nothing more of their contents.  I forgot to look for my pocket notebook, but I think it was buried with the books anyway.  I found our bathroom scale, but left it there, vowing to exercise more and eat less for the week we are without a home.  Yes, ever the optimists, we are convinced we will be in a rental by week's end, with a pending contract on a place to buy.  

We're easy when it comes to getting us to make an offer on a home.  Once it grabs us, we are amazingly uncritical.  We no longer see the drawbacks, only the assets.  So, we have our eyes on another villa, just where we wanted to be, with a glorious view, a screened porch, a balcony, etc.  We note the weaknesses (an aged air conditioning unit, a bathroom that needs updating, and some flooring we'd need to replace, but we see ourselves there, and that is all it takes to sell us.  Once we see that we are sold.  There are probably some realtors who don't understand us, but I know we are much easier to sell than the note-takers.  You know them, they have a clipboard, and they are furiously making notes as they walk thru, so they can remember the house they toured, but never looked at because they were too busy writing.   

But back to my stuff, I found my exercise ball, and brought that out along with a bottle of mouthwash (don't ask).  The ball has stick-figure drawings of the exercises for which the ball is used.  My personal trainer drew these, and I'd be lost without her stick-figure illustrations.  I've given her a binder with dozens of her stick-figure assignments provided during our sessions so i'd remember how to do each exercise.  They really ought to be in a book.

So, I didn't reduce the clutter and overcrowding, but I am sure my stuff was glad to see me, at least I felt welcome and, for just that moment--alone with my stuff--almost as if I had a home. 

People and Places, and A Stroke of Luck

What a month, I say.  July is ending at last.  At this writing, we are staying under yet another roof that is not ours.  We are "homeless" still.  Oh, it's a voluntary situation to a certain extent--we sold our home and have not successfully found a new one to either purchase or rent.  We have been our own worst enemies in this regard, choosing to travel to a couple of far-flung weddings, instead of staying where we were and staying on task.  We sold and/or gave away a lot of "stuff," packed the rest into storage, and left town with a pending contract on a new place to live.  For reasons that are irrelevant here, that contract did not close and we have come full circle, back to the island where we have lived for ten years or so--still with no place to live (and once again, relying on the kindness of family for a place to sleep).

We covered somewhere in the neighborhood of 3,700 miles.  We stayed in the homes of friends or family 28 nights out of the last 37.  We stayed at six hotels, but in the homes of eight different friends or family members.  Our thanks to all of you.  

We passed through Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri, Illinois again, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Ontario, New York again, Vermont, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York again, New Jersey again, Maryland, DC, Virginia, North and South Carolina (That's nineteen different states/provinces).  We visited or dined with fifty-seven people who don't live near us, and most were glad to see us, in fact, those who weren't concealed it quite well.  Our thanks to you as well.

At one of the weddings, I remarked that I would never willingly make such a trip again.  I meant it, but my feelings have softened a bit.  I have not driven in the past two days, which has allowed some of that to subside.  Like most of life, the trip had its high and low points, days of stress and days of fun.  We saw famous sights and sites, some were delights, and some not.  But the people we managed to see made it all feel like a stroke of incredible luck.  Some we see only on rare occasion, some we had never met in person before, and some we might never have the opportunity to see again.  I guess that last piece may be true every night our heads hit the pillow--there are people in our lives we may never see again.  With that said, I'm thinking this summer will be one we remember for a long, long time.   
       

Wisdom Comes Unexpectedly Sometimes

Robert Crais writes detective stories centering around his detective, Elvis Cole. Elvis has a sometimes not so visible partner, Joe Pike. Joe is the strong and silent type, wearing sunglasses most of the time, grunting or twitching the corners of his mouth to express his thoughts. The most recent book in the series that I've read is entitled Voodoo River.   In it, Joe actually utters a few complete sentences and one of them caught my eye, leading to what follows:

LOVE’S RARE (AS JOE PIKE SAID IN VOODOO RIVER)

We’ve spent time on the road,

This month more than most.

Lots with friends and family,

Some with just ourselves.

We’ve glanced at new sights,

Heard new sounds.

Been to places unknown before

Traveled roads unseen

But sights and sounds, sometimes we ignored

Why didn’t we remind ourselves,

Stumbling along that path,

That some things are indeed quite rare?

“Love is not so plentiful

That any of us can afford

To reject it when it’s offered

from whomever.”--Joe Pike

It makes me ask a question.
Isn't the same thing true as well, 
when the shoe is on 
the other foot? If so, it follows

Love is not so plentiful

That when it stirs within

You can afford the price 

If you withhold it or deny.

Let it show, with no regrets.
Life is short and too much goes undone.

Hanging Around The Pier

I grew up in Chicago, so it's natural that part of my sojourn into homelessness would wend its way here. I have mooched a few meals, spent a few nights here at my sister's house, and today we spent hanging around an old, old pier. I think I was there once before, but it has changed. Today was the hottest day this year in Chicago. That sounds familiar, because we just heard the same thing a week ago in St. Louis. Nothing hot about us, we are just nomads, roaming the country. Back to hanging around the pier. I didn't fish, it was too hot. I did hang around the pier almost all day. It's a big pier, probably more than half a mile long, and it has buildings on it as well, many of which have been standing since before World War I. We toured the place. We saw a few panhandlers, but we didn't. We were touring==stopping at shops, looking for clothes, water to drink, and shade most of all. There were hordes of people there, lined up for frozen drinks, ice cream and a certain brand of beer that is linked to sharks, if you know what I mean. Not the sort of hanging at the pier I thought I was in for, but in the 1990's, Chicago invested $200MM in refurbishing its Navy Pier. It was worth the trip. After walking most of its length, we found lifesaving assistance. Smoothies, I am reasonably sure we couldn't have made it back to land without them.