Yesterday at the gym I heard someone ask, “What is a gerund anyway?” Out of my mouth came the information that it is a verb turned into a noun. Gazooks! I hadn’t thought about gerunds since 7th grade. That would be 58 years ago, more or less. That entire year we were drilled on parts of speech and diagrammed longer and more complex sentences as the year went on.

My short term memory seems to be getting weaker. I can’t hold a telephone number in its entirety any more, but need to write it down. I went to the store last week to buy salsa for a special pork dish. I came home with dog food, whipped cream, milk and a greeting card. Now it it is true that we needed all these things, but I forgot the salsa. I will go upstairs to get something and then look around trying to remember what I came upstairs for.

But remembering the definition of “gerund” on the spur of the moment has given me a new view of my memory. Apparently my deep storage system where such things as parts of speech and sentence diagrams reside has thawed out and is ready to deliver a wide variety of information. Some have asked me how I remember such vivid details of my childhood. You are witnessing a display of this thawed deep storage system.

I hope that this change in memory will allow me to let go of minor grievances in my present life. I hope that it doesn’t awaken long forgotten grudges from year ago. Such as “why did Tim send me that mean Valentine in 4th grade?” Uh oh!

I had all boy friends at this age, so naturally I had a cap gun and a cowboy hat to join right in. But the phrase “gunning for bear” was one used by the adults around me. It meant that the person was about to start an argument with no intention of listening to any other point of view.

I observe lately that a lot of television interviewers appear similarly to be gunning for bear. They seem very interested in blasting their ideas at the person being interviewed and not interested in the response. I learn very little from these exchanges, though their intensity often hooks me. I am still trying to understand why I get sucked in. It does feel a lot like gawking at a car wreck. Not one of my better instincts.

At the gym today, a woman was discussing her new television which responds to voice commands. Apparently her husband told her it wasn’t working. She observed him yelling “Golf Channel” at the set and getting no response. She told him that first he needed to wait for the prompt on the screen that said “listen.” Then he needed to lower his voice instead of shouting. Apparently even televisions dislike being rushed and shouted at!

I watched a TED talk which stressed 10 tips for conversation. The one I intend to follow is to remain curious about what the other person knows that I don’t know. I will never find that out if I go into the conversation “gunning for bear.”