Memory Science Part 1: The Theory - AKA Spring Break '91 Wooohooo!

So Christian and I have known each other for a long time, and with that long friendship has come a plethora of memories, all good of course. Well, as we’ve mentioned here on PCPPP, we loves us some science. Awhile back, I was listening to a favorite podcast--Radiolab for you curious folks--which seemed to suggest that the more I remembered those fond memories with my buddy Kristian, the less accurately I actually remembered them (and that has something to do with neuroscience). In fact, it implied that every time I remembered a specific experience that Chris and I shared, I was remembering them more wrongly than the last time. Fearful that I may altogether one day forget all of the fun times I had with my friend Steve, I decided to STOP trying to remember those things for good!

I remained steadfast in that commitment until he and I got together over a beer or four (memory gets fuzzy, y’know) and decided to test that old Radiolab theory. We challenged each other to remember a trip we took whilst in college, to a then little known town called Las Vegas (this was before what happened there had to stay there). What follows is a four-part attempt to re-create the past. That’s right loyal readers, this is the first PCPPP mini-series! Enjoy (and sorry you have to witness the degeneration of our minds).

ps-  if you want to check out that podcast, listen here.

Pat:  You up for this one buddy? A little trip down, as they say, “memory lane” (which was really Interstate 5 and State highways 89 and 95)?

Christian: My memory is like a steel trap. A steel trap that has been left open or possibly never set, so I don’t know how I’ll do on this.   

I’m not going to blame my poor memory on alcohol or anything because that would be making excuses and I don’t remember what we’re talking about just now. However, Alzheimer's is a dangerous game buddy. One that you don’t want take lightly. You can take that to the bank. Just don’t take it lightly to the bank.  

Ah! I remember what we’re talking about - science! I think I have asked you this before but is Radiolab an NPR show? Actually, don’t tell me, I want to just believe that it is. Back to the science. The answer to your question is that, yes, I am OBVIOUSLY up for this one. Despite what I might have just said a few seconds ago.  

And for our kindly readers’ information (FKRI?), this was a spring break trip that occurred in 1991. Way before we even had science. So as you can imagine there is a good chance our memories may conflict on this.  

But in my professional science opinion this memory theory they are hypothesizing is a bunch of shit-crap. I’m not buying it. Do you really think the more you recall something the more you distort it? I say the more you think about it the more you cement the facts into your brain’s storage places.   

Pat:  Don’t let me get in the way of your steadfast beliefs, Christian...I’m all for the cementing of ideas into our brains. That whole “keep an open mind” initiative is a load of hogwash!

But try to think of it this way...it’s like the game of “Operator”. The more you try to pass on a phrase (or, if you’ve already lost the analogy, a memory) the more likely it is to get distorted, convoluted and misinterpreted. Kinda’ like an old mix tape too, I guess. In essence, the further you get away from the original, the more apt you are to be wrong.

This could have wonderful implications! Imagine the next time your spouse lures you into an argument about you paying attention to what she was saying or doing:

Spouse: Hey, did you hear what I said?

You: Yes, of course I did.

Spouse: Really? Prove it! What did I say?

You: I know, but I can’t tell you. If I tell you it will be based on my memory, and according to the theory-that-Pat-likes, I will likely get it wrong. So please just trust that I am with you here, now, in the moment, and that I will take care of whatever your needs are.

Spouse:  Damn, that Pat sure knows his science. I love you, dear.

You:  (smiling a knowingly satisfied smile) Yep.

See, if we have totally different memories of our Spring Break Trip from 1993, then science is RIGHT, and you, my friend, might get some lovin’!

Christian:  I’m not buying your “Operator” analogy and where I came from we called it “Elephant Telephone” not “Operator”.  But for simplicity’s sake, we can call it “Elephant Operator Telephone”.

Anyways, what “Elephant Operator Telephone” demonstrates is that information is lost through communication. As information, or an idea, is passed from one individual to another the individual subconsciously applies his or her preconceptions to the information with the potential side effect that said information may be slightly altered.  

This memory theory of yours is stating that as one individual recalls their own information they are themselves altering it. It’s like comparing Walla Walla apples to Granny Smith apples. Totally different.

As a side note, “Duck, Duck, Goose” which we called “Marsupial, Marsupial, Kangaroo”,  demonstrates how a wireless router works.

But enough about debating silly analogies. Let’s get to some hardcore science!  

Here’s what we’re going to do, our dear agile readers; We have both agreed to write out a synopsis of our trips without consulting or reading each other’s. Mine will be posted later this week, while Pat’s will be posted next week along with our conclusions and analysis of the findings. We’re going to science the hell out of this memory theory!

Grocery Store Greeters: Cheery or Death Plaguey?

I grocery shop in the same manner as I would rob a bank. I try to get in and out as fast as I can with having as little human interaction as possible and I just pray that I don’t have to shoot anyone. So having a store greeter say “Hi welcome to blah blah blah” as I walk in is like having the bank guard yell “FREEZE MOTHERFUCKER!” as you enter the bank. Startling. And it really breaks my concentration. I’m also concerned that one of these days my natural Karate Fu instincts are going to kick in and I’m going to kick that store greeter right in the ear before I realize what’s happening.

Pat, what’s your take on grocery store greeters? Cheery gesturers of kindness or a black death plague on society?

Pat:  Don’t like ‘em. Period. I’m glad that your parent corporation is generous enough to pay you to stand and act in a friendly manner, but just let me do my shopping and stay the hell out of my way.

Christian: Exactly! Wow, it looks like we are on the same side of this issue. Weird. Makes me think that I might be wrong on this one. Yes, maybe I need to think about this some more.  

I guess there’s the argument that it creates jobs, which might make them a good thing. But you can’t tell me that there aren’t other things these people could be doing besides sitting at the door and accosting people with their “Hellos” and “Welcomes.” For example, it seems like every time I go to the grocery store the ice cream section is always in complete disarray after I go through it. It really annoys me. Wouldn’t it be a better use of their time to have them go around tidying things up than having them threaten people to have a nice day as they leave? Yes it would. Which means I am still not a fan of them.

So just to make sure I’m not misunderstanding something here, you feel the same way I do about grocery store greeters? You don’t like them either?

Pat:  Right, don’t like ‘em. And it’s nothing personal...it’s not that I don’t like the people, I just have issue with the profession. Although, if you think about it, they are likely the kind of person who thinks the world is a better place BECAUSE of grocery store greeters*, so I bet that, given the chance to get to know them, I wouldn’t like them as people either. So I guess it is personal.

Christian: Agreed.

Pat: And you know what? You’re right about there being other things--BETTER things--they could do. Having worked in a grocery store, I know for a fact that they could spend endless hours doing what’s called “fronting” (don’t confuse this with urban youth slang, as in, “Hey man, you be frontin’?!”, which means, I think, “Let’s jump that white boy over there who looks like he’s lost!”). Fronting makes the store look pleasing to the shopper’s eye, especially after shoppers like yourself have ravaged the aisles, by bringing the depleted product to the front of the shelf. This is done during busy shopping times, when stockers can’t replenish the shelves, so they use the remaining product to create the illusion of a fully stocked store. Like MAGIC!

I started thinking about another possibility--why not have those greeters stay in the isle with toys and have them watch our kids so that we can shop in peace and buy things we actually need instead of just quickly filling the cart with what we hope are foodstuffs so we can get out of the goddamn store before our kids ask us one more goddamn question?! I’d be down with that.

Christian:  Yes it seems like there should be plenty of other things they could be doing. Like running my groceries through the self checkout line for me. Or how about getting my car after I’m done shopping? And washing it? And now that I think about it, my house really needs cleaning. And I could really go for a good stiff drink.  

Therefore, yes, there a lot of things they could be doing besides harassing me. So it looks like we are in total agreement on this one. What do we do now then?

Pat:  I don’t know...seen any good movies? I made my first official omelet yesterday. Basic cheddar. Turned out really well though.

I don’t think I’m very good at talking with you when we don’t disagree.

Christian: Agreed.

*This totally assumes that we live in a world/country where every single person GETS to pick their dream job, and where a downturned economy does not necessitate crappy-ass jobs that people have to take just to make ends meet. I wanted to add this caveat because I know that humor is one of the first resources to go during tough economic times, and I don’t want our loyal followers to start turning on us like angry villagers because we haven’t been sensitive to their situations in life.

OK, For Reals This Time - Should Snuffleupagus be Seen?

Last week we attempted to discuss the disputatious issue of whether it is better that everyone on Sesame Street can now see Snuffleupagus. It can be found HERE. As one would expect this quickly turned into a heated discourse on the ramifications to Hawaii’s tour industry by bringing them into the United States’ union. These things happen.

I still stand by my opinion that... no wait... I still stand by the FACT, that it is better that everyone can now see Snuffleupagus. Big Bird is no longer the village idiot - although the mental hardship from this decade long ordeal will obviously stay with him forever -  and kids across the world no longer fear that they too are a village idiot because only they and a giant yellow bird can see Snuffleupagus.

Pat, how say you?

Pat:  I’m down with that.

(note to blaudience: is it just me, or is it pretty clear that we’re dealing with some of Christian’s childhood insecurities here? HE was once that village idiot, right? Just checking).

Perhaps when the Children’s Television Workshop started their venture, they thought that a giant mammoth thing visible only to a giant bird thing would prompt creative thought and imagination among the young viewers. But in the more modern era, one in which we’re more sensitive to the real challenges people face, like depression, mental illness and the hysteria only women face as a result of owning a uterus ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Female_hysteria ), I bet the CTW thought it more sensitive to not be perceived as making fun of people who see people who aren’t there (freaks, if you ask me, but that’s probably why I have not been recruited to write for the show). This is where my conservative relatives would make a plug for the Tea Party, because they have no problem spotlighting the crazies, which is good for ‘Merica!

So, wait. Did you want me to disagree with you on this one so that you can yet again tell me I’m wrong? Let me know and I can totally change my views. Anything for my friend, the former village idiot who talked to things that weren’t there.

Christian: You’re wrong! It has nothing to do with childhood insecurities. OK fine, I admit I had a few imaginary friends when I was young. OK, there were 14 of them. But at some point I noticed that they had started to hang out with each other on their own without me. I suspected that they had gotten into imaginary drugs so I kind of tried to distance myself from them. OK fine, they claimed I was too clingy and felt it best that I find some “real human” friends.  

Since then, I’ve looked a few of them up on imaginary Facebook but don’t worry I haven’t try to friend any of them. Just sort of occasionally check out their imaginary profiles to see what they’re up to. Totally harmless. I know it sounds like I‘m dangerously close to stalking my former imaginary friends but, come on, they’re the ones that filed for that imaginary restraining order.     

Anyways, as I said, my preference for everyone to see Snuffleupagus has nothing to do with former insecurities. When watching TV at that age you aren’t aware that shows are written and recorded ahead of time. You think everything is real and is happening right then and there. Even when watching re-runs. So every time Snuffleupagus appeared I would be praying that this would finally be the time. The time he is finally, finally, seen by everyone.

With the TV set glowing rays of hope at the young child me, the young me would be telling the me-self: These coincidences that call him away at the last second have got to stop at some point, right? I mean what are the odds that it’s going to happen yet again? It’s not statistically possible for it to happen again. Right? Right. This time it’s going to happen. It has to happen. I just know it!

It was maddening. I believe this is what led to my heavy addiction to scotch at age six.  

Pat:  I’ve thought a lot lately about the impact that television had on me as a child. I’ve thought about it largely because I watched A LOT of TV as a youth, so much so that I have trouble picturing what my family members look like, but I can describe in precise detail the faces of Jack, Janet and Chrissy (and Cindy and Terri), as well as the Ropers, Mr. Furley and Larry.  

Fearing that our kids will similarly forget what we look like (inconsiderate little turds!), we have gone the opposite route and forbid them from watching any TV. Instead, we let them play with paper dolls of our family (each one of “us” has a complete wardrobe of felt clothing), and they act out skits and plays by taping “us” to the blank TV screen. Then when they go to bed the missus and I put the dolls away, sit on the couch for three hours, and neglect to talk to each other as we watch Law & Order re-runs.

Oh yeah, but the impact it had on me as a kid! To be honest, the unseen Snuffleupagus never troubled me much. Too bad for the people who couldn’t see him. Their loss, y’know. You know what was really traumatic though? I never wanted to visit the American southwest because of the damned Wile E. Coyote and Roadrunner! Did you ever notice how the background behind them just kept repeating? The same mesa, followed by the same arroyo, followed by the same cactus...over and over. Who the hell would want to go there, and where the hell were the two of them running? THAT will mess a kid up!

Christian: I just always assumed they were running in a circle with the camera that was “filming” them, being in the center of the circle. That’s why the background appeared to constantly repeat itself.  

But funny that you mention Wile E. Coyote and Roadrunner because I also found them frustrating but more along the lines with what I was saying above about Snuffleupagaus. Again as I kid I always thought that at some point Wile E. Coyote had to catch the Roadrunner. It’s just simple laws of averages. Plus I always thought the Roadrunner was kind of a cocky prick and a little too righteous for my taste so I often found myself rooting for the the coyote to finally show that roadrunner what’s what. Plus it was hard not to feel sorry for the guy after getting one defective product after another from that ACME corporation. But each time the Roadrunner narrowly escaped the Coyote, often by breaking several laws of physics I might add, the six year old me would just toss back another lowball of Johnnie Walker.

I do have a final thought on this Snuffleupagus debate though. You said “Too bad for the people who couldn’t see him. Their loss, y’know.” This is true, it was their loss. But you know who the real loser in all this was? Big Bird. He’s definitely a loser.