Memories or hearing of stories that are personal and emotionally compelling involve more of the brain and so better remembered than just hearing a simple set of facts. The two key aspects of effective retention are holding one’s attention and by enhancing the memory to be ‘transported’ us into the incidence itself. I mostly call up amusing experiences when in a need of respite from daily hassles.
An unusual incident happened after starting high school. One senior student had that elusive charisma most wish for — the girls chased after him. He drove a Thunderbird convertible to school which didn’t hurt. The only guy who wore sideburns, it caused some envy with classmates as well. One day they grabbed ‘mister cool’ and wrestled him into the washroom where they deliberately cut off his sideburns. Plenty of emotions followed. Besides four apologies there were four suspensions. Years later I crossed paths with one of the culprits who still claimed it was all worth it.
An earlier memory was of a teenage couple who sat so close to each other in his car it was difficult to visualize there was actually two persons behind the steering wheel. It did lead later to understanding the meaning of COD (come over dear). When a guy was driving his girlfriend in his car, after making a sharp turn to the right, probably intentionally, he would say, “COD corner.”
Recalling a flat tire near Old Mill Bridge Road still gives me the chills. It was January and minus 20 degrees or more. The wheel nuts wouldn’t budge, cars whizzed by me despite my flashers on, the hood and trunk door raised, and both my arms flagrantly waving frantically. No one even slowed until one lady heading in the opposite direction turned and came back. She stopped beside me and asked, “Do you need help?” I mustered a thank-you and accepted a lift back to the garage. Einstein once said, “Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts.” That particular act of kindness of coming to my rescue will count as the finest in my life.
I heard an amusing story recently in the community centre hall by one of our councillors. I gather being there reminded him of playing hockey in the ‘old rink’ as a kid. During the game, he happened to score his first goal ever. Uninhibited and with excitement he grabbed the puck for a keepsake. It seems he had a hearing problem when he was young. Heading back home afterwards, his father gently told him that his goal was actually not a goal because it had been called offside. He hadn’t heard the referee’s whistle!
One I heard from an arborist seemed too incredible to be true. He lived at home then, at the top of that long huge hill, along Highway 41 leading to Khartum. Every year a few vehicles had difficulty making it to the top. One evening a student from Trent University heading back to her graduation the next day had her car pan out. She knocked on the door of my friend’s home seeking help. She explained her situation, more concerned about missing graduation than her undriveable car. His mother listened intently to the girl, then said, “Take my car for two nights and in the meantime, we’ll take a look at yours.” The girl was aghast at the offer as was the arborist! He told me, “My mother drove a one-year old Cadillac and here she was lending it to a total stranger.” The girl’s car was repaired during her absence. The new grad returned with the Caddy unscathed, followed into the driveway by her parents, who just had to meet that trusting woman and show their appreciation.
Stories must be simple and easy to understand. If someone has to ask a bunch of questions in order to understand your story, what you are saying is too complex or you are saying it poorly. They need to be told in a way that causes the listener to feel deeply and to share it in a way that shows.
These tales and dozens more I heard were all experienced or related to me in a fashion that left such an impression they will last me a lifetime.
