Selective Memories

Yesterday in my blog I related a few experiences and memories I had associated with the L.A. Dodgers and Dodger Stadium.  I must admit I was somewhat dismayed when my dad phoned me and insisted we had gone to a game where the Dodger pitcher had a no-hitter, and how could I not mention that in my blog.  I didn’t remember that and told my dad he must be mistaken, that if I had attended a game where a no-hitter was thrown I would surely remember it.

Well, he confirmed his recollection by checking in my mom’s diary, which recorded we went to the Dodger game on July 20, 1970, where Bill Singer pitched a no-hitter.  I had to think really hard and maybe there is a thread of memory of the event, but I still have no images or specific memories of that game in my brain.

In contrast to blanking on this memorable game I saw at age 18, I have vivid memories and multiple mental images of the 1960 game at the Coliseum–a game which was not remarkable in any way in its own right, and which I attended as a mere 8 year old and sat far out in right field seats.  Isn’t that a bit disconcerting?  Do I have early onset dementia?

Well, perhaps not.  One way I can explain this is that the 1960 game was a landmark event for me–first ever such experience for a young boy who was getting excited about baseball for the first time, and who attended with his dad who had just returned from a one year remote assignment with the Air Force.  And my favorite player hit a home run.  And it was my only game at the Coliseum.  So I know all my mental images of that place and time are from that game.

Attending the otherwise more remarkable game at age 18 was only one of perhaps a dozen games I attended at Dodger Stadium.  Any visual images of Dodger Stadium from that time period blend together–no single game stands out.  And as an 18 year old I had many other distractions and things going on in my life, such as leaving home for college in a few weeks.

Of course, I have vivid memories of my two most recent visits (2009 and 2013), because they were, well, much more recent.  And each had several unique circumstances.

Sometimes I think that as we get older and our brains fill up with so many memories, we necessarily toss some old ones out to make room for new ones.  I don’t know if there is any scientific basis for that, but it makes common sense.  And I’ll gladly grab on to that explanation as my excuse in this case.

By the way, kudos to my dad, who at age 90 is demonstrating a clear mind with accurate memories.