I've known for some time that my brain is cluttered with useless information. No matter that humans supposedly use only a fraction of their brain potential...my best parts have been stuffed with goofball tidbits (like the YMCA Swim Song in my previous post) which prevent me from remembering things other than my library card number.
Take for example this lesson I learned in elementary school, possibly from the same geography book that enamored me of Kira. We were studying a country in Africa (again, that little detail escapes me) whose government was initiating a census so they could plan infrastructure improvements. In order to educate the citizens about the census and alleviate fear about strangers poking around their communities, the following song was widely broadcast:
"One, two, three, four
Who's that stranger at your door?
Five, six, seven, eight,
It's the census man to enumerate.
Enumerate? Yes, he's to count
Numbers of people; it's paramount.
Information vital to our government
For planning our future development."
I shudder to think what I might be like when I'm old(er) and doddering(er). Am I going to sit somewhere and torment my caregivers with endless renditions of chanty little rhymes? When asked what I want for dinner will I wag an arthritic finger as I respond, "Is that the census man to enumerate?" I SO apologize in advance to anyone who ends up putting up with that.
Take for example this lesson I learned in elementary school, possibly from the same geography book that enamored me of Kira. We were studying a country in Africa (again, that little detail escapes me) whose government was initiating a census so they could plan infrastructure improvements. In order to educate the citizens about the census and alleviate fear about strangers poking around their communities, the following song was widely broadcast:
"One, two, three, four
Who's that stranger at your door?
Five, six, seven, eight,
It's the census man to enumerate.
Enumerate? Yes, he's to count
Numbers of people; it's paramount.
Information vital to our government
For planning our future development."
I shudder to think what I might be like when I'm old(er) and doddering(er). Am I going to sit somewhere and torment my caregivers with endless renditions of chanty little rhymes? When asked what I want for dinner will I wag an arthritic finger as I respond, "Is that the census man to enumerate?" I SO apologize in advance to anyone who ends up putting up with that.
The picture came from here.
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2 comments:
I thought you were supposed to be meditating, chanting and stretching...keyboarding DOES NOT COUNT!! Get on it!
haha! I subscribe to the "Memory Cup Theory". Mine is full. If only I could get the important things to sink to the bottom so the goofy stuff would overflow at the top... *sigh*
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