The Mystery of Memory

I am struck again (I say again because I know I posted something along this line once before) at the oddity of memory or of my memory at any rate. When I was at the jam the other night, I recognized many faces and could just about place where I seen every one. Don, on my left, I have seen at several jams, two workshops, and talked to briefly in the downstairs washroom about two years ago. I even recall what we said. To him though, I looked only vaguely familiar. On the other hand, he seems to remember every tune he's ever played.

There was the guitar player two down of my right; I have only seen himonce but I can tell you where I saw him, in what chair he was sitting, and what tune I requested when he asked. The guy to his right, I sat next to but one at a workshop in Almonte last June, and the lady to his right, I saw once at the same jam as the guitar player. I know it was on or near Robbie Burns Day because I remember her referring to it and leading in some Scottish pieces in homage. And so on. To all of these people, however, I looked only vaguely familiar. On the other hand, you may have noted that I didn't refer to any save one by name even though we went around the circle to introduce ourselves. However, while I don't do names very well, I'd be almost willing to wager that many of them will be able to call me by name if we meet again soon.

I don't know what it is with me and names, but I simply don't retain them very well. Just the other day, for example, Cuppa mentioned the name of the street just one over from us, and I immediately thought she was referring to the the one up from us. I feel kind of dumb when I do that ... and maybe I am. You'd think one should know the neighbouring streets after all because I do turn onto that one daily as it connects to mine.

My odd memory patterns also turn up a lot when watching television. We've watched countless mysteries, and while they do tend to blur and run together, I'll frequently begin to remember incidents and sometimes be able to predict them. This is while Cuppa is almost willing to swear that she's never seen it before. On the other hand she has a great memory for anecdotes or tidbits of information such as you should RICE a sprain, whatever the heck that means. Meanwhile, I sometimes do well with numbers. For example, I might be able to pick up a cookbook and go directly to the correct page (at least if I've looked at it somewhat recently).

I suppose it's down to learning styles. Some are visual learners while other brains respond to different stimuli. I still find it all remarkable, however.

Whatever the whys and wherefores, I still feel extraordinarily dumb when the name of the neighbouring street eludes me.