On the first and last Saturday of every July, the town I grew up in, Newcomb holds their annual Chicken BBQ and Steak Roast. It’s a chance for anyone who has any affiliation with the town to go back and see family and friends. A majority of the time this might be the only time you see a certain person for that year. Or it might be the first time you have seen somebody in years. This year I ran into one of my five former high school classmates. First time I have seen him since we graduated fifteen years ago.
Luckily, with the advent of Facebook and only coming from a class of six people, it’s not that hard to know what all of my former classmates are up to. Also, with Facebook, I am friends with people who I knew at one time and have since not had much interaction with. Over the course of these two Saturdays, I had a few encounters with people I am friends with on Facebook and at one point in my lifetime hung out with at least once. Now, years later, interacting with them, they have no idea who I am. Which suits me just fine; I am not a fan of, nor good at making small talk with people. I always think of myself to be quite awkward in those situations.
I find it funny that you can be “friends” with someone on Facebook, but when coming across them in actual life, you cannot recall who they are. I think that I have this odd ability to remember most people that I have come across in life or shared an experience with. Maybe it’s the norm to forget most people. Perhaps I am an outlier in this regard. I wonder what the future will hold if all we know people by is their digital self.
Another funny thing that happened at the Chicken BBQ was that I was called by my friend’s name by two different people. Granted, I probably haven’t talked to these two people in years, and our exchanges were sparse to begin with. This was not the first time that I have been mistaken for the infinitely more attractive and talented friend. I am not quite sure how people actually confuse us; because I find my friend to be a much more memorable person than I. I am trying not to search for pity or anything; I just believe this to be true. And if you know who I am talking about, you probably agree.
The human mind is such an interesting piece of matter. What we choose to remember, what we push to the edge of our memory. There is so much information to take in and only so much we can hold on to.