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Good Morning Nanty Glo!
           Monday, March 24 2003 

Jon Kennedy, webmasterMemories

No, this postcard is not another of the popular treks down memory lane where we recount zany or poignant times from the '50's or '60's. This is a few thoughts about our faculties of memory, which are also often called "our memories," the neuro-mechanical function and or part of the brain where those treks back to what's now called "the day" are stored and sometimes retrieved.

Those of us who have noticed with some alarm the thinning of ranks among our classmates and peers joke about our "senior moments." I told my friend John on Sunday that my kids have the same problems and they don't register alarm when they happen to them, so why should we be alarmed. Saying one kid's name when you meant to say the other kid's is as natural as anything in life. My daughter even calls her son by the name of her youngest brother and, come to think of it, my dad often called me by his youngest brother's name, Ed. But we've all seen senility and/or Alzheimer's (aka "oldtimers' disease") and it's natural to fear it and dread it.

A somewhat inspired thought (if I have to say so myself) that struck me some time around the first of the year is that when you get to a certain age the number of memories you have to hold in that grey matter between your ears starts to overflow. The new memories can't find a neuron to call their own. They have to hold on by tenterhooks, and are likely to be blown or knocked off. The older memories are deeper down in and couldn't be uprooted if you wanted to do it, however. This explains (totally unscientifically, of course) why short-term memory starts to fail more as you get older and long-term memory still seems as sharp...maybe even sharper...than ever.

A friend who was in a class a couple years ahead of mine at Blacklick Township High has much clearer memories of our Young Democrats Club than I do. I was the founder of it, but my memories of it are all vague generalizations. I'm not even sure I'd have been able to tell you that Mr. Web Mahan was our faculty advisor if Virginia hadn't mentioned it. The main memory I have of it is the picture of the club's officers that appeared on the front page of the Journal.

I remember that photo for two reasons. It was in my scrapbook for decades afterward, but even more important than that was the fact that it was the second time Journal editor Andy Rogalski came out to the township to take my picture. The first time it was for a feature on the Blacklick Township 4H Club, in which I was growing tomatoes as my project that summer. He snapped me in my sombrero holding up a tomato vine weighed down with plump shiny fruit. Fortunately, there were no color photos in the papers of the time, as the fruit was all green. When he came back the next fall to take a picture of the new officers of Blacklick High School's Young Democrats Club, I was surrounded by a bevy of beautiful, and generally slightly older, young ladies. Of course, when snapping our smiling kissers, Andy remarked, "This is the second time I've taken Jon's picture with a bunch of tomatoes."

That's almost all I remember of the Young Democrats, but I'll try to dredge up a little more for Wednesday's card.

—Webmaster Jon Kennedy

 Why men are just happier people! (second of series)

Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat.
You know stuff about tanks.
A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase.
You can open all your own jars.
You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.

— Sent by Mary Ann Losiewcz

Lenten thought for today

Guidelines for prayer

If we want to ask a favor of any person of power, we presume not to approach but with humility and respect. How much more ought we to address ourselves to the Lord and God of all things with a humble and entire devotion? We are not to imagine that our prayers shall be heard because we use many words, but because the heart is pure and the spirit penitent. Therefore prayer must be short and pure, unless it be prolonged by a feeling of divine inspiration. Prayer in common ought always to be short....

— St. Benedict of Nursia, c. 480-543

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