No high school memories

I had a friend from high school visiting here a couple weeks ago.   What I remember most about that visit centers on our memories.  Not memories from times in high school—I mean our memories.  We’ve lost them.

We spent half of our time together trying to remember if we had our cellphones with us—and by the end of the weekend, we both lost things—her sunglasses and my iPad.

I didn’t identify her; (just call her “D”) but I wrote a post about this.  And another friend from high school, Gail, emailed me to ask who it was.  When they  saw each other afterwards, they  had a few laughs at D’s expense.

So now coincidentally Gail happens to be out in California, too.   (It sounds as if everyone from my high school is suddenly visiting California, I only wish it happened more often.)

She’s in town tonight; so I pick her up at her hotel and we go out to dinner.  I won’t even go into how great it is to connect with old friends—but it is.

Anyway, after dinner I drop her off at her hotel, I drive home, and I get a call from her hotel room 15 minutes later.   “I think I left my cell phone in your car.”

So I get my keys and go out to check the car.  I also take MY phone to call hers in case it’s in the car.  (I have a feeling this little routine might sound familiar to some people reading this.)  I turn on the lights inside the car, check under the seat, check everything.  I don’t make a sound  in case it was set on vibrate so I can hear it.  Nothing.  It’s not in the car.

While I’m checking the car, Gail is calling the restaurant.  We had looked at her pictures at dinner so we  know she had the phone then.  They claim it’s not there.

This is getting confounding.  Gail retraces her steps from where I dropped her off until she got back to her room.  Meanwhile I go back outside again to the car with my phone.  And I go through the same routine I just did—turn on the lights, check all over the car; and call her phone again while I’m out there.   Nothing.

I call the hotel again to tell Gail the bad news.  And then I try the restaurant.  By now it’s late and they don’t answer.  But I feel terrible about this and slightly guilty that it happened on my turf.  Again.

I call her hotel again (I’m now on friendly terms with the desk clerk) and I tell Gail I’m driving back to the restaurant where I’m sure they must still be cleaning up and I plan to go in and look around myself.

So I go back out to the car  and the first thing I do when I get in is to call Gail’s phone again.

And then a miracle happens.  I hear it ring—-so loud and clear as if it’s right next to me.  And it is.

HER phone is in MY purse.  (which I did not take with me when I went out twice before to check the car).

The great news is that unlike the  iPad and sunglasses; this story has a happy ending. For Gail, who got her phone.  And for me, who showed up at Gail’s hotel just now with the phone and found her waiting for me with some chocolate.

But there are still some lingering questions.

Such as:

Which one of us put HER phone in MY purse?  I know Gail thinks it’s me.  

Which friend is more embarassed right now—Gail or D?

And:  exactly how much did we drink with dinner?

The biggest question is whether any other friends from high school will ever want to visit me again now that I’m like a memory Typhoid Mary.

Probably that’s a moot point.  At the rate I’m going, pretty soon not only will I not remember what happened to my friends’ phones, I won’t remember them.

 

Comments

  1. D/

    As your husband ( and long time admirer ) I have a simple and benign answer to why you and your out of town friends lose stuff when you reunite for a visit. It’s a variant of ‘not being present’. Actually, I think you and your friends are very present – but only to each other at the exclusion of everything else. I think if I were sitting at the table with you and one of your old high school friends visiting from the East Coast that my hair could be on fire and neither of you would notice. No wonder that little details, like what your hands end up doing with the objects that pass through them after they are no longer needed, escape your consciousness. A trait that all your old friends seem to share with you is a boundless enthusiasm for reminiscing and catching up on each others lives. If I were you, I’d be more concerned as to why you can never seem to remember where you leave the house phones.

    Love,

    V

    • Really funny–and very true. And I will be generous enough not to point out all the times you have lost YOUR phone. Haha. You’re right about being fully “present” with friends—I hope I MIGHT notice if your hair was on fire; but I wouldn’t count on it.

  2. Great post Darryle. Great comment V! Knowing (remembering) both Gail and you, I had a very nice smile on my face as I read this very familiar episode. Speaking of memories, mine was being tested as I began reading this piece because I said to myself: “Self”, I think Darryle might be right about her memory starting to fade because I know that she has posted this item before. But low and behold, it was just a real-life example of a “senior moment”. Frankly, while I prefer to remember all of us MBeachites as we were in 19–, I like the ’12 version JUST FINE. Thanks, as always, for brightening up my day.

    • Thank YOU Ron; and it did feel like deja vu–sometimes everything feels like that! I have to say I wish I could remember how we all were in our past lives—but I actually far prefer the current versions of ourselves—so much more evolved and less caught up with the things that we thought were so important in high school. Actually at this point, I bet most of us can’t even remember what those things were.

  3. I’m glad you found her phone! I just found Frank’s sunglasses , he lost them, unlike us girls, he spent an hour looking and the next day went out and replaced his Ray Ban prescription glasses.I accidentally found them in the closet, by the front door ,where we store/toss Everything

    • Thanks so much for sharing, Renee. You have just perfectly described my husband, too! I hope V reads this. I have my own issues but somehow I usually manage to find the things he thinks he lost.

  4. MICHAEL ROSENTHAL says:

    This has been happening to me with greater (and annoying) frequency in recent months. I put something down and immediately have no idea where it is! I have always been able to organize anything, any space, anyone other than my own and myself. Now my cleverness in trying very hard to put things in their proper place is severely compromised by this unconsciousness. Partially because I never put things in their proper place and because I would never look for them there as a consequence. Other than calling my cell phone from my portable landline unit, I try to picture the place I might have cleverly put it so I wouldn’t lose it and through a thorough rehash of every step I ever took since learning to walk, eventually find it. Oy! Brains without memory is very frustrating.

    Now I have philosophies which comfort me and I share them with others. If you suffer from Insomnia, don’t lose any sleep over it and if you struggle with memory loss, forget about it.

    • I love your philosophies—very cute; and at least we can all comfort ourselves knowing that we’re all dealing with the same stuff. I’ve never been organized but I always used to be able to find everything when I needed. Now I’m hopeless and getting worse by the minute. Thanks for sharing—

  5. Mari Wehde says:

    Loved this, Darryle!

    Some years ago, I worried about my memory ( or lack of it), and bought some gingko biloba to help it. The crazy thing is that it expired before I ever took one! I had forgotten about it! It’s sad, but true!

  6. Larry Snetman says:

    Hi Darryle, I would have commented sooner but I misplaced my iPad! Ahhh, the golden years.

  7. Haha, I really like knowing I’m in such good company. I guess this is happening to all of us! Thanks so much for commenting and hope you hang onto your iPad better than I did. I’m already on my second one and got a bright green cover this time so I can’t miss it.

  8. Hmm. I feel strangely comforted reading this.

  9. The next time we are getting together,I’ll try to remember to leave my phone at home,xo

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