May 13, 2022: I Remember YOU!

My father grew up within an extended clan around Boston, but he left for college, and fought in WWII upon graduation, and eventually landed a job in Seattle, so he rarely saw the extended group after that. One time in later life, though, he went to an East Coast family event, where a much younger cousin said, “I remember you!”

My dad was pleased, but the guy wasn’t finished.  “You taught me how to throw rocks at ducks!”

This was a conversation-stopper. Dad accessed the memory bank, and could not recall this happening. He wanted it not to be true. (And honestly, it doesn’t seem likely; my father had facets, but it’s hard to imagine him as that kid.)

He wanted the guy to be remembering some other older cousin.  But there was nothing to be done. The guy remembered it, and Dad didn’t. He moped around for a while afterward, until it became a funny story.

I play Trivia twice a month. This is going to tie in, albeit loosely.

I lose at Trivia, and it’s fun. I have a great teammate, sometimes two teammates, and I don’t expect to win. I have both a sketchy memory and a woeful (dearth of) knowledge of pop culture, sports, history… actually I can’t identify what I DO know down to the Trivia level.  

And that’s okay! My stated goal in retirement is to Dabble, but I have Dabbled all of my life, picking up shiny objects here and there, but rarely going deep. I spent nine hours in a weekend workshop recently, Dabbling away, exploring a new skill  - low expectations, just for fun, etc. - and I was fine with screwing up, cheerful in my Beginner’s Mind, right up until I tipped over into immense frustration.

Once I recovered, I thought: I wonder if I have a Comfortable Failure Fraction? I don’t mind screwing up THIS much, but when it reaches THAT much, my mood sours. And if I do have such a number, what as it? 

Easy enough to quantify! I can tabulate how I lose at Trivia! Here’s the breakdown:  

a)     I have no clue, None. Nada. Zero bells are ringing. I never knew that. Or it’s gone now.  (48% of questions, Why I Play Only For Fun.)

b)    Oh, DAMN IT, I know that, but I cannot access it in the next few seconds. I KNEW THIS ONCE! DAMN IT!!!! (5% of questions.)

c)     I know this one! But I’m WRONG. (5% of questions.)

d)    I know this one! And oh, my gosh, I’m RIGHT! (42% of questions.)

I rarely beat myself up over things I never knew, though occasionally I feel inadequate if I can’t come up with a wild guess. How can I not know even one Belgian rock band?

I do a lot of eye-squinching over the retrieval problems, as I’m sure you do. For all the DAMMIT drama, it’s surprising how (numerically) small the fraction is, like a poppy seed in your brain teeth. You can feel the neurons firing away, but not making it across the synapses. (Figure of speech, people, let it go.)

The third category – what my pal Chuck calls “Often Wrong, Never in Doubt”- doesn’t bother me too much, if it stays in the 5% range. Seems reasonable, at least while playing Trivia. Drives others mad in real life, I know. Sucks for them.

Being RIGHT comes with a range of emotions, from Duh, to Phew, at least I haven’t forgotten THAT, to Can I get a round of Applause?

So, here’s my dad, with no memory of throwing rocks at ducks (category a), and here’s his cousin, who is either right (d), or wrong (c), but who is not sitting around going WHO taught me to throw rocks at ducks? Who? (b).

All of these musings came together when I saw a high school flame/longtime friend a few days ago, for the first time in ages. He mentioned making out with me in a gravel pit. (Isn’t that sweet?) He saw me get that look I get when I’m accessing the memory bank, and he was laughing, thinking I’d forgotten, but it was far worse than that. I said, gently, “I do remember making out in a gravel pit… but… not with YOU.”

In terms of failure, this answer was a), b), c), and d) all at once: no bells; circuits jammed; I am confident but wrong; and I am right about the other guy, but (circling back) no bells with you, sorreee. 

In terms of etiquette, my answer was suboptimal. 

But in terms of lowering expectations, and bringing on a belly laugh, it was a roaring success. Here’s where I am these days, a solid 42%. Take it or leave it.