The Wiz report for Tuesday

I do not have a story about Tony Bennett. I wish I did – it’s a great story. I have an uncle who resembles him, but that’s about it. I DO, (much like Jay) have a story about how we remember things – or how our memory fails us. I call it the Air and Space Museum Story.

This story takes place about 13 years ago, before Wiz Spouse (WS) and I were married. My best friend had moved from the New York/New Jersey area to Washington DC. We went to visit her there a few times. While my friend was at work during the day, we would wander around DC doing all of the “touristy” things. One of those excursions was to the Air and Space Museum, one of my all time favorite museums. I remember everything so vividly. There was an exhibit of Thermographic Silk Screenings that were images of the coastline of Maine. WS is from Maine and I remember him showing me (on the silk screens) the various towns, rivers, etc. The colors were rich and they were very beautiful. WS’s Dad is a retired Air Force pilot. I remember WS showing me which planes he flew and reading me the histories behind them. I remember showing WS the same exhibits that my dad showed me when he took me there as a kid. I even remember telling WS that I was going to buy my little brother some “space rock space candy” as a souvenir. I still remember all of this vividly today.

A few years pass and WS and I are now married and visiting his family in Maine. My best friend was with us and I was telling WS’s family about our trip to the museum. In the middle of my story WS says, “I don’t remember any of this – I’ve never been to the Air and Space Museum”. That’s when the argument began. “Of course you were there, don’t you remember…” Nope. He didn’t remember a thing. He didn’t even remember going on the trip. “Of course you were there” I kept saying. I re-counted all of my memories to him, after each one saying “don’t you remember?” Nope. How can he not remember something I remember so vividly? It was incredibly maddening, and now his entire family thinks I’m a lunatic. Finally to end the (huge) argument, I said “I have pictures, I’ll show you when we get home.”

We get home and I find all the pictures. WS isn’t in any of them. Why didn’t I take any pictures of him there? I should have taken at least one picture…

Nope. Nothing. The family is now divided. I am convinced WS was on this trip. WS and his entire family are convinced he was not.

As time goes by, we (me, WS, his family, and my best friend) piece this all together. We look at pictures, train tickets, airline tickets, books we were reading at the time, anything that would give us some insight. It turns out that they’re right. WS was not on that trip with me. He was never at the Air and Space Museum until years later. I must have missed him so much that I wished him there. But it’s all so vivid, just the way everyone in Jay’s story remembers Jay pulling out a banana. To this day I remember all of the conversations that he and I had on that trip – all the places we saw, the museum, everything. It’s an odd feeling to vividly remember something that didn’t happen. I can swear he was there. The mind can play some mighty tricks on us!

Until the next one,
Wiz