While working, I tried to remember people’s names. My theory was that if I didn’t continually walk down the mental pathways to those names, the grass would grow obliterating the path and the name at the end. There might have been other important memories at the end of that path, that I needed to access, too. I trampled down the grass, well fertilized with mental poo, to keep my mental paths ready to traverse (and impressed people with my name-retention capabilities).
Now that I’m retired, I don’t have as many names to remember. What if the grass is growing? I don’t have the moniker memory motivation to trample down the grass on the mental pathways. I still have plenty of mental poo, which is quickly composting and fertilizing the greenery. I know: I’ll make new memories, hanging out with friends and family, going to local activities, and traveling. Then I’ll tell my friends, acquaintances, and even complete strangers about these escapades, in detail, from memory. It will be like a verbal slide show.
Here’s a list of possible verbal slide shows:
- Movies seen (like “Bohemian Rhapsody” and “The Green Book”)
- Plays seen (like “The Pirates of Penzance”)
- Trips made (to cool places like Capitol Reef, Utah and Grass Valley, California)
This is going to be good. My recent trip to Capitol Reef was a triple-hitter memory maker: hanging out with friends, experiencing local activities in Capitol Reef and travel. The scenery was spectacular, the food deliciously waist-expanding, the company phenomenally gracious with no scrimping on the laughter-inducing fun. This trip alone, generated a National Park sized multitude of memories with scenic pathways and trails leading to each individual verbal slide show possibility. Speaking of trails, while hiking the trail to Hickman’s Bridge (yes, I hiked the trail to Hickman’s Bridge), an elderly couple of gentlemen on the trail behind us were discussing their ailments and frailties. Not intentionally listening in (sound carries in the great outdoors), I heard one gentleman say to the other, “Thank God we’re worn out. It shows that we’ve truly lived.” I liked that philosophy, and shared it with one of my friends. She let me know that her father (a great guy who I was fortunate to have known) used to say, “I would rather wear out, than rust out.”
This week, I’ve traveled through Arizona, and Nevada into Northern California for a fun-filled visit with family. It’s the end of May and we’ve traveled through rain, sleet, hail and snow. With all of this moisture, I will happily keep moving, risking wearing out to keep from rusting out.