RCP: Homemade Sazón

I remember that meal from your initial post about it, very impressed.

By the way, it was Halloween 1999.

Are you saying that you didn't post it on some old iteration of WLDG?

I'm sure I did. I'm just saying your memory is really working overtime!

[Jenise]

No overtime. The stuff's just there in my head. I remember being 11 months old and virtually everything that happened since. I'm one of those blessed, or is it cursed, with exceptional recall.

I'm one of those blessed, or is it cursed, with exceptional recall.

Bit of each.

My head is good, too, but some things have faded. And the early stuff is disorganized: I remember how upset the big people were when I was three (watching the JFK assassination on TV) but nothing else emotionally strong until maybe 5 or 6 years old; by then, my time is more structured by school.

I remember being in a crib next to a window, about threeish.

When I was doing our genealogy, I remembered my mother taking a photo of me, when I was three, on a sidewalk out back. When she died, I got her photos. There I was, on the sidewalk, looking into the camera. A real time and space twist.

My earliest memory is of being stung by two wasps when I was two years old. I almost died from that. I can still picture the scene vividly in my mind.

-Paul W.

I was once stung in the middle of my right inner malleolus by a wasp while prying out a fossil on a rock embankment in my early teens. Left a hole. Quite unforgettable. Worth it, though.

[Jenise]

I have dozens of memories of living on Thunderbird Lane. I could draw you the floorplan, and I remember all the neighbors by name. One of them, Mrs. Clifford, was my favorite; she bought lollipops for neighborhood kids but saved the green ones for me. I remember I couldn't say the 'r' and called them 'geen'. I remember the grocery store we shopped at, and the places we'd get pizza and barbecue. Tons of details. We moved to Bryn Mawr Way at the other end of town when I was three, about five miles away so a whole new world, I was there from age 3 to 13. To this day I remember all the neighbors there too, and their house addresses and phone numbers. I remember every phone number I've ever had.

I didn't even understand that I was unusual until high school when I took shorthand. I mastered the proficiency require for an a after two years/four semesters in the first 10 weeks. You only had to show me a new symbol and how to connect it and I knew it like I'd always known it and could write it as fast. They sent me to competitions and I took first in every one I went to. That's memory.

Professionally, for a few years I was the department administrator for an engineering department of 400 people. Our engineers went all over the world. My memory became the stuff of legend. I remember when a guy named Dennis Barlow stopped me in the hall, and said Hey Jenise what's my employee number. Without batting an eyelash, I answered "06103". I knew everybody's numbers, and he told everybody about that. (I recall even now that his middle name was Andrew and he lived in Buena Park with his wife Debbie.) After that I was stopped often with that question.

Another example: 20 years later, now married to Bob, I was at a biz function of his and introduced to one Larry Stella. "Laurence with a 'u', middle initial J?" I asked. Yes. I had never met Larry, but when I went to work at Fluor he had been one of our engineers on a long assignment in England, and quit from there to take a new job. So I had no idea what he looked like, but I knew his file because I'm the one who processed his termination. So, to his gaping jaw, I just did a brain dump, "You were Sr. Cost Engineer when you left Fluor to join Daniels Co in Greenville, South Carolina. Your employee number was 22863. You were making $3230/mo when you quit. You had a son and two daughters...."

So while I'm not at all foolproof, I have a far better memory than most. About four years ago we went to a rally in Montana for people who own the same brand of tiny RV we do. We knew no one there. On the first night there was a mixer at which I met around 80 people. The next night about 40 of them came to the wine tasting I hosted and I was able to introduce each one in the group by name. I do not know why this stuff sticks but it does. It's not like I try, it's just there when I need it. And talk about a great party trick.

Wow! You're almost as smart as our very stable genius prez who aced a cognitive test and got extra points.

Over my life, I've often wished people's names were numbers, which I can remember better. Names go in one ear and out the other for me.

Great story, Jenise. I think your memory is better than mine but mine has some of those same properties - things just stick to it. I also remember neighbors (the Pepper Lady lived directly below us), baby-sitters (esp. Hilda Jacoby who told me about Blenheim apples), home phone numbers (IL 9-6921), addresses in Miami Beach where great-aunts lived, floor plans for sure. But not things that are random, like employee id numbers, it needs a meaning.

Over my life, I've often wished people's names were numbers, which I can remember better. .

You may call me Number Six......

People remember odd things while forgetting things the should retain.

I recall the radio telephone numbers my father used in the 1960s (it was rare for people to have a radiotelephone in a car back then, but he was n MD who did housecalls). OTOH, I can never remember what SWMBO asked me to do before she went out on a given morning.

Over my life, I've often wished people's names were numbers, which I can remember better. .

You may call me Number Six......

Don't let those bouncing balls catch you, Six.

You may call me 665. I didn't quite make it.

People remember odd things while forgetting things the should retain.

I recall the radio telephone numbers my father used in the 1960s (it was rare for people to have a radiotelephone in a car back then, but he was n MD who did housecalls). OTOH, I can never remember what SWMBO asked me to do before she went out on a given morning.

Our original phone number was 1008-J. But the easiest one to remember was my friend Carter's phone number: 8.
I remember what fun it was to call him back in the days of operators:

"Number, puhleeze."
"Eight."
"Excuse me?"

Certain things are a sort of mental peanut butter that just sticks to your brain. My grandmother's phone number in the 1960s was JAckson-55882. That was before Ma Bell dropped the mnemonic first two letters and went to all-numeric phone numbers. The letter groupings appear on phones to this day, though.

-Paul W.

I have an old house with old things in it, including the original phone in the last house we owned, which had been installed (hard wired!) in 1938 and hadn't moved until I cut the wire. I put it in our new house (it still works) and anyone younger than 40-50 who sees it wonders what the heck it is. It still has our original phone number in the centre of the dial - it was the Walnut exchange.

After we moved I picked up a Belgian phone that I also installed - it works too. We were never on a party line, though.

OTOH, I can never remember what SWMBO asked me to do before she went out on a given morning.

I have heard this condition referred to as marital deafness.

Bill, our living room phone (which, I'll admit, we bought):

12livingroomdetail1 sm.jpg

Very nice, Jeff. Do you know what vintage and model it is? Has some artistic flair to it.

[Jenise]

But not things that are random, like employee id numbers, it needs a meaning.

Apparently, it's relatively rare for that reason. I have no idea why I'm able to do this; I have no tricks and in spite of the fact that I have synaesthesia these long strings will be black and white, not color. Whereas, give me a date? My birthday is mint green/blue/brown. Bob and I were married on pink/yellow/green. This year my birthday is going to be on the emerald green day of the week (Wednesday).

No overtime. The stuff's just there in my head. I remember being 11 months old and virtually everything that happened since. I'm one of those blessed, or is it cursed, with exceptional recall.

How I envy people with strong memories. I can’t remember the names of any of my elementary school teachers and fewer than 5 of my high school teachers. My memories are of snatches of people and activities or events that caused me trauma or other type of unease. But I am blessed with the ability that once I put something behind me, it is truly behind me (people and events). I can quote few passages from prose and poetry, but I remember vividly how a book I’ve read, a song I’ve heard or a movie I’ve seen made me feel (though for some reason I can remember melodies and lyrics of songs from when I was very young). There must be a name for this affliction.

[Jenise]

Jo Ann, what you describe is why my memory is something of a curse. I remember events from a long time ago verbatim like it happened this morning with all the emotions of the moment: often, these are things I really would be better off forgetting. Another side issue: if you don't forget, the whole concept of "forgive and forget" doesn't quite work. From that POV, I remember too much.

No overtime. The stuff's just there in my head. I remember being 11 months old and virtually everything that happened since. I'm one of those blessed, or is it cursed, with exceptional recall.

How I envy people with strong memories. I can’t remember the names of any of my elementary school teachers and fewer than 5 of my high school teachers. My memories are of snatches of people and activities or events that caused me trauma or other type of unease. But I am blessed with the ability that once I put something behind me, it is truly behind me (people and events). I can quote few passages from prose and poetry, but I remember vividly how a book I’ve read, a song I’ve heard or a movie I’ve seen made me feel (though for some reason I can remember melodies and lyrics of songs from when I was very young). There must be a name for this affliction.

What were we talking about?

What were we talking about?

But Lethe comes in glass bottles so there is always blessed forgetfulness.....

I like the sparkling variety of Lethe in my gin fizzes. Enough of those and I feel like a zombie and completely forget my problems. And yours.