Jul 082014

I’ve learned that I have an unusually good memory for details. Blogged about that before. I can remember voice inflection, facial expression, time of day, and exact transcripts for conversations I had 35 years ago.

(Not all of the conversations I had 35 years ago. But I can remember a surprising number of them if I sit down and consider a specific person, and try to recall my interactions with him/her. I remember women better. Make of that what you will.)

When I train my memory upon how I felt as a child—just my frame of mind sitting around—I’m becoming increasingly confident that I recall it as better than it was. I mean, I must. It’s just like any other emotionally significant piece of your past. My mother’s been gone for 13 years, and though I had genuine disconnects with her, they’re steadily harder to summon. It’s much easier to remember the ways she made me laugh than it is the ways she made me cry.

When I do try to recall how things were in my head, it’s often in a parenting context. What sticks with me? What do I want to stick with Nathan and Aaron?

I’ve decided it doesn’t much matter how rosy my glasses are looking back.

If I’m shooting for a feeling today, who cares whether it was real or imaginary yesterday?

 Posted by at 9:31 pm
Jul 062014

Well, it was an enjoyable Independence Day weekend until I destroyed my grill tonight with a grease fire that I estimate burned unattended for ten minutes.

(Gee, I’ve never seen the little thermometer built into the lid read 925º before.)

It wasn’t particularly expensive, but it worked well for what we wanted. There was nothing wrong with it, so there’s no immediate budget to replace it.

However, my irritation at its loss is dwarfed by the freakout I’m still in the middle of. I don’t know how much longer it would have taken to set the deck or the house on fire, but I’m confident it was more than halfway to doing so.

I’ve fired a gas grill and left it alone for 10 to 15 minutes all my adult life. Tonight I did exactly the same thing and had it seared in my soul just how plausibly I could have destroyed my home. I wasn’t distracted. I wasn’t intoxicated. I just did what I always do. (Did what I always did. I think I’m not going to do that anymore.)

Wonder what time I’ll get to sleep tonight?

 Posted by at 10:27 pm
Jun 282014

Longtime readers may recall I did a little social exploring on AshleyMadison.com a while back. AshleyMadison.com is a dating site for people looking to cheat on their spouses. It should be clear I don’t think much of this idea. Perhaps an industrious bot has harvested my email address and associated it with a mention of [...]

 Posted by at 1:48 pm
Jun 202014

The only time in my life I ever saw a psychologist was right after my parents divorced, and my well-meaning mother hauled us in to talk about our feelings and stuff. (Turned out that much of the problem was the man she was seeing, who later thoroughly convicted himself as the most evil person with whom [...]

 Posted by at 9:40 am

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