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  • Tony Muldoon

Memories..didn't choose to forget....

Memories are a strange thing. We have our own, keep some, fling others about all over the place; telling people, writing them down etc. We’ve got photos, videos and who knows what we’ll have in the future. To hell, right now we might be actually nothing more than replayed memories from the past?


I think that because I've lost loads, lost the ability to store anymore…..


I’m just going to stop for one second. I’m in a cafe writing this and the girl across from me has burst out into hysterics infront of her machine. Sooo tempted to ask her why the heck she’s doing this! Have read some pretty gut wrentchingly laughworthy shit in my time. But not sure if i’ve ever been this way??


….and all sorts of variations on those sorts of scenarios. I’ve maybe gained a better respect, insight and understanding of what the hell’s going on when it comes to these things.


I’ve just come back from a weekend away with a group of friends. We were in a lovely place called Kinaird called Guardswell Farm which is somewhere between Dundee and Perth. It was actually with a group of my wife’s friends. It’s a stunning place and we had a really nice time but it acted as a great experiment to highlight a full list of examples of predicaments that can be thrown at me and people like me because of the type of people we’ve become.


  1. “Hi Tony!!!! It’s fantastic to see you again! Feels like ages! When was it again???


a) I don’t know your name (I was never good at names anyway.) I don’t remember meeting you before. I don’t remember anything about your whole family that you’ve brought with you.


b) I most certainly don’t remember when it was either.


2. What part of the farm are you staying in anyway? Is it the same one as last time?

a) Forgot which part of the place the Mrs said we were staying in.


b) Obviously don’t remember if i’ve stayed in the same place previously


c) Then I even managed to have an argument with Laurie about the layout of the place, when it’s quite clear that I'd be in the wrong when it came to these sorts of things.


3. We’re going to Spain this year, I heard you guys were going over there, where is it again? We’ve been to X,Y,Z before and we just love it.


  1. Know that I'm going there for quite a while but in spite of this I can't remember where the heck i’m going.


  1. I know that I’ll have been to X,Y or Z previously and they’ll probably be a bit puzzled when they find out from someone else that I have. In some cases they can be in the company or me when a ‘third person’ strangely informs them of this.


In a small group like that it even throws up an extremely absurd situation whereby I sit and tell someone all about something and because i’m spending that time with them, they run into other people later that day or weekend who inform them of the actual details surrounding a trip I took, how many times i’ve been in this place before, age of someone I know, job they’re doing and a whole number of other things. Making me then look somewhat, or a bit more than just somewhat strange. And this is a situation that I have to live through, time and time again. It becomes worse and worse because as time passes you build up less and less of a past, you meet up with less and less people, you fail to remember less and less football results; who won what league, what cup, what year?


Now, as a safety catch, there’s always ‘get pissed’. Now it’s pretty hard to sit in the corner of the room as everyone else wants to chat and chat, more and more about what you now relise is a pile of shit. You don’t really need a memory to conjure up something to talk about after a good few ales, do you? Or do I, at least.


This, in my case though, then carries an extra risk. After even a couple or glasses of vino, the chances of springing into convulses, part way through your conversation. And then ruining the Family’s night into the bargain are sky high.


So there you go. Spending your weekend, sitting in the corner, unable to pitch your way into anyone’s conversation, and certainly not having any fun when you do, having more fun chatting to the kids.


Great.


So….. memories. A far, far more complex concept than you would care, or dare to think about.


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