On being … an aide-mémoire

By Ingrid Sapona 

Last Sunday a friend and I were considering where to go for lunch. As we thought of places, I looked them up on-line for their hours. To our dismay, a few were closed on Sundays, a few required reservations (and none were available when we wanted to go), and a few were only serving brunch, which we didn’t want. 

Then I thought about a restaurant another friend and I recently reminisced about – a place neither of us had been to in years but that we agreed we’d like to revisit. I knew it was a one-word name but I couldn’t remember it. All I could think of was that the name reminded me of a Harlequin. When I mentioned this, my friend laughed and asked if I was actually thinking of a book. I explained I meant the clown-like character with a costume featuring fabric with large, colourful diamonds. 

When my description of the name didn’t help, I mentioned the restaurant was known for its panoramic view, despite being in an area one wouldn’t think of as having such views. I also thought the street it was on started with a B, but couldn’t remember more. So, I opened Google Maps, looking in the general area I was picturing in my mind. There was a street called Balmoral but the restaurant wasn’t coming up on Google Maps. Argh. Maybe it had closed, or maybe I was just out to lunch (equal possibilities, admittedly). 

I was about to give up when the name popped into my head: Scaramouche! I then found its website and confirmed that it’s still in business, but not open on Sundays. While that was a disappointment, I was pleased that at least I remembered the name (eventually). I was also pleased when I looked up Scaramouch in the dictionary* and found there is a connection between Harlequin and Scaramouche – both are characters in commedia dell'arte. (Whew, not going crazy.) As for the address – well, again, I was part right. It’s on a street that starts with a B (Benvenuto) in the neighborhood I was looking on the map (in fact, a couple blocks south of Balmoral). 

Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not writing this because I’m concerned about memory problems. I think I’ve been to Scaramouche once and it was easily 25 years ago – so I don’t feel bad the name didn’t come to me right away. What this little episode got me thinking about, however, is the different ways we use to remember things. 

For example, growing up some teachers tried to drill into us different mnemonics. I never really found them too helpful. The only one I’ve ever remembered is Every Good Boy Deserves Favour, which I know relates to reading music. But, in writing this I had to Google the phrase to: 1) make sure I had it right, and 2) find out exactly what it represents musically. I didn’t remember that it is specifically for the notes on the treble clef. Indeed, I’m sure there’s a mnemonic related to the bass clef, but I don’t remember it at all. Then there’s the “i before e, except after C” mnemonic. In fairness, that one pops into my head whenever I’m typing a word with “ie” – but it’s not that useful because I don’t remember all the exceptions, so I often end up looking up the spelling anyway. My main qualm about mnemonics is I’ve just never seen the point of memorizing something to remind yourself of something else. 

These days, rather than relying on aide-mémoire, I turn to digital tools to jog my memory. For example, I use Google Maps a lot because I’m far likelier to remember the general location of a place I’ve visited – or driven past – than I am to remember the name of the place. Even if the name doesn’t pop up on Google Maps, the Google Street View might capture it or seeing pictures of the neighborhood at least gives me a sense of whether that’s the area I’m thinking of. 

IMDB (Internet Movie DataBase) is another great tool (I prefer the app to the website) I rely on if I can’t remember an actor’s name. If you can think of a movie (or tv show) the actor was in, just look up the title on IMDB and you’ll see the names (and usually faces) of the entire cast. So efficient! 

I’ve realized that when I’m trying to remember something, I often use a reverse engineering process. I start with what I remember and then I turn to things like Google Maps and IMDB to try to figure out what I’d forgotten. Sometimes the process takes awhile, but it’s kind of fun making sense of the seemingly random details you remember (like the fact the street name starts with a B). 

What about you? What tools – or techniques – do you use when you’re trying to recall something? 

© 2024 Ingrid Sapona

 

*Attention fans of the rock band Queen: If you’re scratching your head wondering why the word Scaramouche sounds familiar, well, Merriam Webster (another aide-memoire I call on often) reminds readers of this lyric from “Bohemian Rhapsody”: "I see a little silhouetto of a man / Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the fandango?" Rings a bell… right!

On being … the hallmarks of a Hallmark movie

By Ingrid Sapona  

Have you noticed that many of this year’s Hallmark movies have been set in European locales? And why not: travel provides unusual opportunities to strike up conversations with strangers and to learn about other cultures. And even when you don’t speak the language, no subtitles are needed when the protagonists are in love.  

Picture this scene: three gray-haired women (me and my sisters, if you’re wondering) find their assigned seats in a six-seat compartment of a train bound for Prague. A few stops into the four-hour journey a tall gentleman passes the compartment and then returns, eyeing the numbers on the empty seats. After double-checking his ticket, he opens the door, stows his backpack above one of the empty seats, and sits down. Shortly after, another guy comes into the compartment and before the train takes off, he sets up his laptop and dons noise-cancelling headphones, disappearing into his screen. 

As the train picks up steam, the tall gentleman pulls out his phone and smiles as he texts away. At some point, perhaps after an announcement in Czech, one of us asks the tall fellow what the announcement was about. He smiles and says it was about the next stop. He then apologizes about his bad English. We assure him his English is good and apologize that none of us speak Czech. 

The gentleman again looks at his phone and then explains that he was looking at the map to determine how long it will take to get to his stop. He assured us the train’s making good time. Then, with an irrepressible smile, he added, “You’re probably wondering why I’m so anxious that we’re on time.” Though, undoubtedly, everyone on the train was keen to be on time, the flush in the stranger’s cheeks and his beaming smile hinted at a story that was ripe for the telling. So, one of us asked him why. He then enthused that he was going to see a girl he met a few weeks earlier. 

With the conversation ice broken, we couldn’t resist asking for more details – and Pavel (not his real name) was too enthusiastic to hold back. Seems he met a lovely tall girl (I’ll call her Natalie, though that’s not her real name) recently at a festival in his home town. The festival attracts people from all over and Natalie and her friend went there to check it out. The festival is known for its costume parade, Pavel said. He proudly shared photos of the painstaking process the village women go through to put on the elaborate costumes and he explained the significance of different outfits the men of different ages wear. He also told us about all the work that goes into planning the three-day festival, which it so happened he was in charge of this year. His enthusiasm and pride in the history of his village was genuine and lovely. 

As he was talking, the train slowed to a stop, though we weren’t at a station. Then came an announcement – first in Czech and then in English. There had been an accident “involving a human” and the train had to wait for it to be cleared. Nothing we could do, of course, but hope the delay wouldn’t be too long. Pavel immediately texted Natalie to explain about the accident. We then broke out some snacks that we shared with Pavel and the other cabin mate, who smiled and accepted the offer of some candy before quickly returning to his computer screen. 

We resumed our conversation with Pavel, taking the opportunity to learn a bit about the Czech Republic. He described the region of the country he’s from (Moravia) and that – among other things – it’s well known for its wine production. Though he works in the energy industry, like many in his village, he makes his own wine. Indeed, he was bringing Natalie a few bottles of his wine. 

Chatting with Pavel was a delightful way to pass the time. But, when his phone pinged with a text about an hour into our wait, he looked nervous and quickly replied to it. He then sheepishly explained the text was from Natalie and she was frustrated that he was spending the time chatting with three women. We laughed that he mentioned that to her, but when he looked serious responding to yet another text that came in, we realized it wasn’t necessarily funny to Natalie. Then Pavel asked if he could do a selfie with us. Absolutely! We understood immediately that he’d use the photo to show Natalie that the women he was passing the time with were no threat. We smiled as long-armed Pavel snapped the picture and we encouraged him to text it to her right away. Misunderstanding averted….  

The delay ended up being well over two hours. But, thanks to the engaging conversation with our new friend, the time flew. And, perhaps because I had expressed interest in the kinds of wine they grow in the Czech Republic, before he left, Pavel gave us one of the bottles of his wine. It was a lovely gesture and it would have been impolite to refuse, so we promised him we’d let him know how we liked it. (We drank it the following evening – it was a delicious, full-bodied 2022 Dornfelder.)  

Pavel got off a few stops before we did and we thanked him for the wine and wished him good luck with Natalie. Of course, it’s way too early to know how their story ends. I’m guessing, however, that 20 years from now Pavel and Natalie will be proudly helping their daughter and son with their costumes for the village festival. What other ending could there be? Oh yes – and my sisters and I will be enjoying some wine from Velké Bílovice – Pavel’s home town. 

© 2024 Ingrid Sapona