Face Booked

Facebook has been around a while now and I have to say I've never seen any point to it nor any reason why I would actually even visit the site.

I got on because my wife had found many contacts from high school and elsewhere after being on for just a little while. So, I thought, let me see who's there...and it appears that Facebook is what Classmates.com should have become but didn't.

Now, I've reconnected with all kinds of people I probably wouldn't have in any other way...high school mates, co-workers, ex-co-workers, (possibly future co-workers), friends of friends, friends of siblings, childhood friends, et al...

And I find myself spending more time than normal on the site...partly grooming myself to look the best I can to everyone else and partly "spying" into the lives of everyone else.

But there are some things about Facebook behavior I'm not sure I understand and I apologize to anyone I may offend with these comments...It's not you, it's me...I have the problem...

First, some people spend A LOT of time on Facebook doing all kinds of things (quizzes, sending things to other people, etc...).

Second, that function of slapping out there what a person is doing right at that moment...first, what anyone is really doing is spending time on Facebook, duh...second, does anyone really care what I'm doing at that moment (or any other moment)?

Lastly, and admittedly, this is my own personal problem....having reconnected with some people...my life seems to be somewhat less than others....now, I'm no fool, per say, and I certainly don't need an "It's A Wonderful Life" moment to understand my life isn't useless...but there's that little nagging voice in the back of my head that, rightfully, echoes the fact that I haven't lived up to expectations (whose I don't know) or perhaps more accurately to full potential.

I'm sure there's more to explain but...I...need...to...get...on.........Facebook. Bye!

A Book You Have To Read

The Nurture Assumption by Judith Rich Harris

At the end, agree or not, this, above any book I've ever read, I recommend. You simply have got to read this. Even if you don't have children, it's great insight into yourself and your peers.

When I first read it, it was like finally discovering the sociological/psychological/biological version of Einstein's Unified Theory. All I had studied and read in both fields finally came together and the discrepancies explained.

I would love for anyone that reads this blog, if anyone does, to read this book, come back and comment and let me know your thoughts.

School (or Glory Days)

High school is big down here in the south (high school football bigger than that). I think it is bigger in most areas of the country than in the Northeast, though I think I may not be a good one to judge that.

Was high school a big deal to you?

Perhaps I underestimate it's influence but here's how I see high school as I reflect back on it:
First, as my previous post states, my memory isn't all that and high school doesn't seem to enter my mind very much.
Second, my mind drifts back to elementary school and seems to me to have been a bigger influence on me than high school.
Third, college was more important to me than high school.

As for reunions, I'd certainly like to attend them more than I have, but being out of state limits my availability, however, lots of times, some of the people you want to see don't attend. And of your fellow classmates, those that you haven't continued friendships with into adulthood, we really don't know each other at all, do we?

But why does elementary school have such a pull on me? For a number of years in my thirties (perhaps the aging process?) I was even fixated on those years. So much so, that I thought about going back to my old school and obtaining a print that sits on the wall from when I was in second grade donated by a family of a classmate who died along with her parents in a plan crash that year. I did go back and visit the school to look at the print, though no one there knew anything about its history (which is why I thought of obtaining it, at least it had some meaning to me if not anyone currently or attending in the future).

Director Michael Apted (Thunderheart, The World is Not Enough and the forth coming third installment of the Narnia series) created the documentary Up series where he interviewed 14 seven year olds and has followed up with them every 7 years since 1964. "The premise of the film was taken from the Jesuit motto "Give me a child until he is seven and I will give you the man," which is based on a quotation by Francis Xavier."

Perhaps this is why I seem to get fixated on the elementary years. Perhaps these are really the years that forge who we are. And as previously mentioned, I can recall more from those years than from high school.

I went to Mount View Road Elementary School in Morris Plains, NJ (I lived in Cedar Knolls and based on location was able to walk to school) from 1970 to 1976. We buried a time capsule under a new tree planted in the parking lot--if I recall correctly, I was the second to last person to sign it, I think John C. was the last, but I could be wrong.

In second grade, Karen D. was my "girlfriend" (you know how that goes)--Paul D. would make fun of her and I'd chase him around in her gallant defense. I remember she moved after that year across town and attended a new school--I recall being crushed.

Paula S. would chase Steven S. through the swing sets trying to kiss him. I got my ass kicked by Jeff G. who was a couple of years older than me (I psuedo "dated" his sister Susie in 4th grade).

Mrs. Hamilton pulled my hair backstage during a play once for talking too loud, in second grade. Karen Jo W. moved to the area and during a talent show one year she sang "Over the Rainbow" in a most beautiful voice (she's one I'd like to see at a HS reunion). Frank S. and I played a clarinet duo that same talent show. Doug S. broke his leg one year and couldn't walk around the school during the Halloween parade. In third grade I had a huge crush on Patty W. who started school with her sister Lauren--the same year Vin P. started school and for some reason he and I didn't hit it off, I think I was jealous of him for some reason.

My good friends those years: Tommy H. (whose oldest brother died in a car crash years later-he was a great guy too), Rob D., Rob M, Kevin M., Frank S. (who died in a car crash during high school), Paul D, Paul L. and Pete C. (who were a year older), Denise T. who is my oldest, continuous friend (we've known each other since Kindergarten).

In those days, Mount View was also open during the summer-the true "summer school" which was strictly for recreation. We'd spend nearly every day playing softball, all of us along with Chris C., Billy C., Ed M., Rick L., Ted C., Greg D. and others. And we'd curse like sailors, F'in everything. It was marvelous. And we'd leave in the morning and come home at night without our parents wondering where we were or worrying if anything happened to us.

Yet, if I try, I can't really pull the same level memories of high school...those years seem so inconsequential, as if they never happened. (Though I do recall a bunch of us staring at Marisa C.'s ass-she was a grade below us-one day through the glass door and pointing this out the Mr. Shoe--and a fine ass it was.)

Even my dreams, on occasion, will pull in these elementary year friends and fellow students more than from the high school years.

So, while the media makes HS seem so important and my impression is that to the rest of the country HS is important, is it the same for us from the Northeast or is it just me who doesn't seem to think so?

PS
All this reflecting and confessing makes me think of one other thing I'll throw in as a confession: during middle school (6th grade) thru HS, I always had, to one degree or another, a crush on Christine F.--to the point where I always thought it would be cool to make love to her in the grass on a warm summer day when it would do that really light warm misty shower even though the sky was really black.

TMI, I know...sorry....

Past, Present and Future (memory)

Some people live for tomorrow. Some live in the past. Some live here and now. This is mostly about memory but there are a few tie-ins around school that I'll write in another post.

I don't know how most people's memories work. There's a biological aspect to how our brains processes memories and, I think, where our tendency to "live" (past, present, future) comes from. Whether there is an inherent gene or if the brain synapses are formed this way due to the environment, I don't know, but this is beyond the scope of this entry.

I have found myself forever stuck in the present. My mind does not naturally plan or look into the future (though I have been guilty of procrastinating parts of my life under the guise that things will be "better tomorrow"). When my mind drifts back, it tends to go to the elementary years not the high school years (see future school entry).

When a memory enters my mind I can't seem to bring a visual of it only the idea of the memory. Even memories from several months ago fall victim to this "failure to load". The consequence of this is that past events seem like they never really happened. If we were to use the analogy of water under the bridge, my memory is the water which has swept out to sea and left me on the bridge seemingly gone for good. Which means days like when I got married, the birth of my son, all seem so vague and far away, as if they belong to someone else.

My memory is more like bytes on a hard drive than a file cabinet full of pictures and movies. As if I can only recall in text not images.

It's the difference between this:



And this:
"It's night, there's a big fountain with tall buildings in the background."

I would like to recall in images not in text but it appears my entire thought process only works in text. Which is odd because I don't dream in text, I dream in very vivid color images with Dolby Surround Sound. Of course, then it all just becomes text as I try to capture the images and feelings in a journal when I wake up.

All this makes Visualization very difficult.

On top of all this, I can't really seem to recall anything. I'm not forgetful, I don't have a "bad memory" (though, the older I get...). I mean, I know my son was born, I know I was there, I recall the incident but...My family will talk about things that happened when we were kids and I'll have no recollection, as if the memory has been wiped, or never happened. Or wasn't important enough to register, yet we all know that everything, even things we don't consciously notice, get filed in our brain. So, it's more like the bytes on the hard drive have become corrupt and cannot be accessed or the "ties", the "line" to the memory has been severed or withered and died.

It's all very odd and in the end leaves me with the here and now. But, of course, isn't that all we really have?

Dreams

I found my old dream log from the early '80s--covering the years 1980/81 (I was 15/16 yrs old).  I've recently tried to resurrect writing my dreams into a log.  But now, I'm just about 44 yrs old and the dreams fade so fast and I'm so tired I just can't get anything written down.

Looking over the old journal, I was able to capture as many as 3 or 4 dreams in one night.  Despite what some of you may think, not all of the dreams was sexually oriented.  Though I won't deny...some where.

The challenge with a dream log is, "a picture is worth a thousand words."  You're basically trying to capture a mini movie in words.  Not only are you trying to capture the story line but all feelings and meanings.  A very short simple dream can easily fill a whole page of writing.

To top it all off, you're trying to get it all down as fast as possible before the vision and the feelings fade.

Dream interpretation is a whole other matter.