History is subjective because memory is subjective. Ten minutes after the fact, it’s . . . history. And any one event is subject to multiple interpretations.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the Wayback Machine. Wayback When there used to be a television show, back in the day when they had three channels, and channel changers on the televisions, way before remotes – there was this show, Rocky and Bullwinkle, and there were these two characters, Sherman and his dog Peabody, and they’d go back in time. The Wayback Machine.

So we all at times hop into the Wayback machine.

I have an idea (Lightbulb Icon Here), on Wednesday I am going to talk to some individuals who live in Senior Housing. I might decorate a box and call it the Wayback Machine. I might print up a picture of Rocky and Bullwinkle and put it on the box. Or Sherman and Peabody I’ll have everyone pull a year and say something they remember about that year. This might be a way of introducing a course I might teach: Memory, Memoir, and Memorabilia.

I have an idea. This is how it all begins. Once I get an idea, I think some about how it might work and how it might not work. If I can think of more ways in which the idea will work, I go for it. If I think of ways in which it won’t work, I don’t go for it. Earlier today, as I was sorting books at a local thrift store, I thought about using the Wayback Machine in my presentation. As I was writing this, I thought about putting years in the box and in this way getting the conversation going.

This was an idea borne of desperation. I did not want to talk the entire time.

Hoorah for creativity and imagination. In this respect, I’m glad that I’m me. I think that I was born having more right brain tendencies than most. I was most likely rewarded early on for being creative. Then I began to reward myself for being creative. Oh yes.
And I figured this out at this late hour.

It was a long day. Pete, saying it was a good idea, pushed me in the direction of doing the book sorting at a local thrift store. I went in there yesterday and foresaw that this was to be a two-day job. Pete said that he’d come by this afternoon, and he did. I put in four hours of time, and he put in two hours. I worked on the children’s room – putting the books that we can find places for, in boxes. There were boxes and bins and bags all over the place.

I suspect that what happened was that the thrift store workers were inundated with books. They were unable to keep up with the sheer number of books, so they ignored the mess. I was called to take care of it. It was not an overly formidable task.

The Wayback Machine. You can even go back to earlier in the day in the Wayback Machine.

Next: 102. 4/13/24: Slush