My friend Kevin's latest blog entry deals with publishing deliberately false material that, when discovered, is attributed in part to the fallibility of human memory.  That addresses an instance of clear dishonesty, but it did prompt  me to contemplate once again how unreliable memory can be.  I've heard that a group of people, if asked to recall a past incident they all witnessed, will give individual accounts of amazing diversity, so that the truth of the matter becomes very difficult to determine. 

I was most recently prompted to contemplate this matter a few nights ago when I had the rare occasion to encounter my old friend Dorothy, to whom, in a previous entry, I attributed a story about a bunny rabbit which I recall her relating to Truman Capote one evening some twenty-odd years ago.  Dorothy has no memory of any such story and says her family in fact never had a pet rabbit.  She did admit, however, that my memories of the bunny story bore an odd resemblance to a poem she wrote as a child, but said she had no recollection of reciting it for Mr. Capote, and she expressed strong doubt that she would have done so. I remain fairly certain that, while I may have misunderstood or just misremembered the nature of the narrative, it was indeed rendered by her on that evening.  However, Dorothy's memories of our encounter with Truman differ considerably from mine, and she bristled heatedly at my recollection of him as somewhat frail, drugged, and wearing shades the entire evening.  While my comments were not meant to malign him--merely to point out that at that point in his life, he was an unhappy man not in the best of health forced to endure a lot of inane chatter, some coming from me--and while my memories persist, I have deleted the original entry, feeling that perhaps recalling an event with assured accuracy through the haze of two decades is simply two gargantuan a task.  Truth can be an elusive prey, even when one does not willfully abandon its pursuit.

A week or more ago, Kevin charged me with elaborating on five weird habits.  How he may have known that I even HAD five weird habits is beyond me, but now that Christmas is over and I can take a minute to breathe, I will answer the charge, especially since I'm obviously not brimming over with things to write about, anyway.

So how about the following?:

1.  Whenever I contemplate something that hasn't happened yet, my brain instantly with no conscious effort formulates odds for all possible outcomes.  Will X be at a party I'm going to?  42%--yes, there when I get there, 34%--yes, get there after me, 24%--not there at all.  The numbers pop into my head as if out of the ether.  How will Y take the unpleasant news I need to tell him?  38%--anger, 33% sadness, 16% indifference, 11%--won't let me tell him to start with, 2%--other.  Usually, the outcome to which I (or some invisible spirit) assign the highest odds is the actual outcome, but not always.  Anyway, the numbers generally form whether I want them to or not.

2.  Twice a day, unless something beyond my control prevents me, I log onto accuweather.com and check the radar map for precipitation in the 48 contiguous states.  Each state has the potential to receive between 0 and 5 of each of three different kinds of points: rain points, snow points, and sleet or freezing rain points.  Depends on how much of the state is covered by that form of precip.  Then I open the EXCEL spreadsheet which shows the current point values state by state and add the new set of points in.  This process starts on July 16 and runs through the following July 15, then starts over.  This year so far, New York leads in both rainfall and snowfall, while North Dakota leads in sleet or freezing rain.

3.  When I'm traveling north on Memorial Parkway, I almost always get in the access lane--the one that alternates between going up over the overpasses and being part of the side access road--and stay in it the whole way until I exit at Clinton or University.  Passengers in my car have criticized me fairly severely for doing so, but I like it and find that I have less traffic to deal with overall.

4.  Whenever I open some fresh DRY cat food, the appealing aroma prompts me to munch a handful before feeding any felines.  It's like eating a meaty-flavored cereal.  Sometimes, I'll grab a second helping.  Cats waiting to be fed often give me some very nasty looks.

5.  Whenever I've learned lines for a play, I've assigned each one a number and, while memorizing, visualized the written line and its number floating in the air in front of me.  That way I generally know during a performance exactly where we are in a play and how many more lines I have.  As with all else, I am often soundly criticized for employing this method, but for me it speeds up the memorization process.

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While Visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.

And mamma in her kechief and I in my cap

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of midday to objects below,

When what to my wondering eyes should appear?

But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

To see where Santa is right now, check www.noradsanta.org

Merry Christmas.