--- In [email protected], ffia1120 <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
>
> I am wondering if he just got confused about the years? I am 
> not making excuses for him, but I know how I have to stop and 
> think, "OK, in '84 I graduated from MUM. Now did I move to DC 
> in'85, or was that '86? And what year did I work as a Ayurvdic 
> tech in FF - was that 86 or 87? And when did I pursue my graduate 
> degree -- '89 or 90? I really have to stop and think it through. 
> The Deepak I knew 20+ years ago was not a liar by any stretch 
> of the imagination. But, who knows, maybe it's a combination 
> of forgetfulness/confusion, or his ego has gotten in the 
> way and he is embellishing his memories a bit.

Just as a reality check ( or, given the source,
an unreality check :-), I'm the same way about
time. I could no more tell you the exact year
that something important happened in my life
than I could tell you who Lakshmi was sleeping
with during a particular kalpa.

For me it's not an age thang. I've always been
like this. I have *never* been able to remember
a particular calendar year and associate it with
other memories. Being somewhat of a music freak,
I tell "subjective time" via music. What album
was current when such-and-such happened...that
sorta thang. For example, I could not tell you
on a bet what year I met my first really serious 
girlfriend and lost it heavily over her, but I 
can without a moment's hesitation tell you 
which albums formed the "soundtrack" of that
period. ( The album was "Aftermath," which if 
you know it should give you a clue as to how
well that particular affair turned out. :-)

Some people think in terms of calendar years,
and can relate those calendar years to the events
of their lives. But what if you were a student
for decades? Academic years don't follow calendar
years. So you'd have to remember, "Such and such
happened in academic year '66-67," and really,
who's got the fuckin' time? It happened when 
"Aftermath" was hot on the radio and in all the
stores and in every living room I ever entered.
You'd walk into a party and Paint It Black would
be playing. You'd get bored with that party and
go to the next one and Stupid Girl would be play-
ing. Then, at the next party, Lady Jane, and at
the next one, Under My Thumb.

Calendar years? Where's the value in recollecting
your life that way? But when the recollection has
a soundtrack, and a cool one? Magic.

And if that doesn't make you feel better, remember 
that age-related memory loss is just nature's way 
of saying, "Be here now."






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