A Brief Conversation With My Brain

 

One of the most fascinating aspects of the human experience is our propensity to learn. From the moment a baby’s eyes open (or even before according to some) their brain is inundated with sensory input that sets them on a path of lifetime of learning. The complexity of day-to-day life entails that we must learn to adapt and sometimes conform to the world around us. Watching children learn is truly a parent’s eye-opening experience. To see the light snap on when a child makes a thought connection and the problem that was once incomprehensible to them suddenly evolves into a solution.

I remember seeing this happening with my own children as they grew up, but perhaps I didn’t appreciate it as much because I was still in the trials of learning to be a parent. Trying to be a role model when you have no idea what you are doing can sometimes be overwhelming. Now, as a grandparent, perhaps that one degree of separation makes it all more evident to me when I see my grandkids learning so much in a short period of time. To listen to their speech pattern evolve from squeaks and giggles into well structured sentences or questions over a few short years is astounding. It is interesting to see how their thought processes maneuver through this very strange world we live in, especially through the last two years when normal socialization has been thrown out the window with the bathwater.

 An example of this was when my daughter-in-law related to me how when our 6-year-old grand-daughter was listening to the radio and Harry Nilsson’s song, “One” came on. For those unfamiliar with the song, part of the lyric is “one is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do”. When the song was over, she quizzingly looked at her Mom and said, “Why is one the loneliest number when it has zero and two to keep it company?” Pretty hard to argue against that logic. I just hope she doesn’t get exposed to America’s “A Horse With No Name” and try to make sense of the lyrics of that song. “In the desert you can remember your name, cause they’re ain’t no one for to give you no pain”. Trying to parse that one would likely make the poor girl’s head explode, like it does mine.

Learning is a lifetime thing; every new experience brings something different to the table. However, as you get older the bloom definitely comes off the rose. Its not that there is less and less to learn, it is just the brain gets picky on what should be kept and filed away and what needs to be dumped. Too much clutter slows the machine down. Time to defrag, as my wife would say.

I recently had a long conversation with my brain about the state of my learning ability when I tried to concentrate on working through an especially tangled economic report and got nowhere fast.

“Hey! Excuse me Brain, can I have a word with you about this retention thing I’m having?”

“What now? Can’t you see I’m busy keeping you alive? You think its easy getting all the organs pumpin’ and dumpin’ in harmony? One misstep and you don’t want to know…”

“No, no, no. Don’t get me wrong, I do appreciate all your efforts, especially the pumpin’ and dumpin’ part, but I’ve got to learn this bit of information and right now and for the life of me, I just can’t absorb it!”

“Are you trying to tell me how to do my job? Do you know how much stupid, useless information you’ve shoveled in here over the years? Music trivia? Plots of movies and novels? Conjugations! Why the heck would anyone want to remember how to conjugate ‘to love’ in Latin? No one speaks Latin anymore! Ever heard of delete?”

“I don’t know… It just pops right into my head, ‘amo, amas, amat, amamus, amatis amant’. Almost like a nursery rhyme. Why do I remember something I learned over 50 years ago and not the numbers I just read 2 minutes ago?”

“Mysteries of life, buddy. Listen I was just chatting with the hippocampus and we’re both a little peeved about all this data input. Take a look at yourself, you’ve practically got one foot in the grave as it is, don’t you think you’ve learned enough? I’ve got no problem with you taking stuff in, just don’t expect me to store it anywhere. I’ve run out of space. I’ve got your stupid memories up the ying-yang.”

“Come on, please? Just one more bit of data? Just this once?”

“Let me tell you something. You know that time you walked into the kitchen, and you immediately forgot what you were looking for? That was me just letting you know who’s in charge around here. You won’t like it at all if I decide to go on strike and shut everything down, and it won’t be for a noon-time nap. Capche?”

“Ok, ok. Sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll be more selective”

“You better be. By the way now that I’ve got you here, your liver wants a word with you too.”

So that’s the state of the nation. Its satisfying to watch the young learn so much in such a short period of time. Me on the other hand, not so much. It’s one thing to teach an old dog new tricks, but quite another to expect him to remember them.

 

When Covid first started to ripple across the country my youngest daughter asked me that, in my long life and apparent wisdom if I had ever undergone such a disruptive societal force. I took a moment, looked at her with the gravitas needed for these sorts of questions and replied, “Yes… Disco”.

I certainly didn’t see the dangers that lay ahead of us almost a year ago when the virus was starting to make the news. To say the year has been tumultuous is an overwhelming understatement. I certainly didn’t grasp the sweeping impact that this would have not only on our city, but our country and the world.

The sentiment that family is everything takes on a whole new meaning when regular family gatherings are cancelled or postponed. We have all missed birthdays, weddings, holidays and sadly funerals over the last while. But in the same breath, the importance of family time comes to the forefront because it’s missing. Zoom chats, phone calls and socially distanced meetings help, but nothing replaces a good long hug.

The lack of family gatherings had me thinking back to all the times when we planned these evenings without a whiff of concern. My children have never been shy about vocalizing their thoughts. This was a curse upon us when they were kids but is a wonderful way to spend an evening with young adults who have more to talk about than the latest episode of The Simpsons. No wait, they still talk about the latest episode of The Simpsons.

It is inevitable that when you get a group of people all talking over each other with words bouncing around the room like echoes in the Grand Canyon, that sometime the message does get lost in the medium. Eight people trying to make a point all at the same time, can be somewhat dizzying for old ears like mine. The brain tires quickly when trying to parse who said what to whom. Sometimes these group conversations would end up like a strange iteration of “Who’s On First” with two completely different conversations melding together and making sense in a completely absurdist manner.  The kids acknowledged the mayhem and thought that in the following get together a game might help ease the chaos.

A few weeks prior to our next holiday get-together we were each asked to think of three songs that had a lasting impact on our lives. Once we had decided on the songs, we emailed our selections to our daughters’ partner. He cataloged them all into a playlist and we were asked not to discuss our selection with anyone else in the family.

I, like many others, can pinpoint many of life’s peaks and valleys to certain songs. Music has forged societies ahead, it has calmed us, energized us and united us, made us smile and made us cry. So when this concept was suggested, we all agreed it would be a fun way to spend an evening.

When the family weekend arrived and after dinner, we all adjourned to the living room. The playlist had been set on shuffle, meaning that the songs would play randomly. If the song you chose started to play, you were not to reveal that it was your choice. Instead, you would join in the group trying to determine whose song it was. Subterfuge is always good fun in a family environment.

When the song ended each person said who they thought the song was selected by. Sometimes it was unanimous, sometimes it was not and sometimes it just elicited shrugged shoulders.  Once revealed and all of the “what?” and “really?” and the definitive “I knew it!” were blurted out, it was up to the song selector to explain why this song had such an impact on them. To me this was the most fascinating part of the game. It revealed things you did not know of the children you helped raise over the last 35 years, or the woman you have been married to for 39 years for that matter. In addition, I am also glad and relieved to say nothing was revealed of our children’s partners that would have us overly concerned.

It was an excellent way to spend an evening considering there were 24 songs, one of which was Arlo Guthrie’s “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree”, the LP version which lasted 18:34. To me, the most interesting choice was The Turtles, “So Happy Together”. My daughter selected this song, although most thought it was me. When asked why she picked this song she said it was because it showed her of the power of one word being able to change an entire perception of something. Considering that she is in marketing, this was something pretty relevant to her.

She remembered one time when she and I were driving, and this song came over the speakers. From the well of music trivia that is me, I told her that most people thought that this was a love song about a couple who are so happy together but if you listen to the first word of the lyric, the song is not about a shared love, but of unrequited love. That first word changes the whole meaning of the song? The first word of the lyric? “Imagine” as in, “Imagine me and you, I do, I think of you every night, it’s only right”.

It’s amazing how you can make a lasting influence on someone’s thinking with a small observation of one small word.