Memory overload

If my hard drive could talk, it would beg me to stop screwing with its memory.  'Save me!' it would plead thru a series of beeps and digitized sounds.  'Stop storing all of your family videos and photos here, you bleep-bleep!'

I would hate to have my memory messed with, so I can hardly blame my computer for its frustrations.  My memory is my greatest asset.  Being gifted with an uncanny ability to recall things doesn't exactly serve me as well as, let's say, an awesome talent might. 

A fabulous singing voice leads to endless lucrative possibilities.  How about all-star athleticism?  Cha-ching.  Off the chart brain power easily translates into dollar signs.  There's no question my ability to recall things is outstanding, but what does it really do for me besides make me look thoughtful?

My friend at the gym was tickled last week when I remembered that her daughter's birthday was the same day as my daughter's.  Unfortunately, I can't 'cash in' on that kind of talent.  In fact some people might take my ability to zero in on unimportant details as creepy. 

Speaking of details, I missed very few back when the kids were tots.  I rarely put down my camcorder.  I'm desperately trying to find the time to burn to DVD the hours and hours of video footage currently stored on my desktop's hard drive.  This time consuming hobby makes me wish I had a special secret power.  Time travel.

If I could visit the year 2011, I would whisper into my own ear:  'Not necessary to video the ENTIRE 7th grade B team basketball game' featuring Laddie as forward and Coach as - you guessed it:  the coach.  Can you say:  turnovers, hot dog shots, and horrible passes?  Not only can I say those things, but I can relive them . . . repeatedly.  In fact, I have.

Yesterday I was working on January of 2011.  Not one, but two of Lad's games are recorded back to back.  I even managed to capture the minutes of the game when my son wasn't in the game.  Why?  I can remember lots of things, but I have no idea why I felt compelled to save lengthy minutes minus Laddie.  I watched and re-watched some clips as part of my editing process.  In order to whittle away at this endless recording, I replayed moments until I was sure I had a fair mix of good and bad plays involving Laddie.  Because, hey, there's no sense in trying to recreate reality.  Right?

Before I fell asleep last night, I asked Coach if he thought we had any idea of how darn cute Reggie was back then?  Maybe it's just the age, and maybe I'll discover the same cute factor when I reach the other kids' preserved 4 and 5 year old antics.  

I can't help but wonder though . . . maybe my ability to record all of these memories (even though I should technically be able to remember all of them - and I don't), is my jackpot after-all.  I'm now convinced I need to start a you tube channel featuring the kids as tots (right now it would be Reggie in the lead role).  Thanks to my video taping addiction, I have an unlimited supply of family out-takes and highlights.  

(I'm generally opposed to revealing my kids' identity, but I'm assuming you wouldn't recognize them on the street based on images of them as tiny tykes.) This is a clip of Reggie on his 5th birthday waiting for his pancakes.  He reminds me that Curly is 3 and he is now 5.  When I ask if he thinks it's cool to say that he's five, he informs me that it's not as cool as 10! (in case you don't translate Reggie-speak)

Once I sift thru the hours of mundane home movies to identify the funniest parts and post them to a you tube channel, I bet the money will pour in.  Who needs real talent when you are gifted with a great memory . . . or at the very least a passion for recording memories?