I was watching a TV program the other evening that dealt with the brain.
By Dean Meyer
Now, I don’t think they used my brain as an example, but they say the brain can store and process more bits of information than any computer in the world. It was using words like megabytes and stuff. My little brain couldn’t comprehend it. But they showed one guy that can remember everything that has happened, or been said, since he was a child. Another guy couldn’t remember stuff that happened five minutes ago. I guess I lean a little more towards the short side.
I do know one thing. Our memory can fool us. Case in point:
Yesterday, we trailed cows back to the mountain from Lake Ilo. It is about a fifteen-mile drive. Against a cold northwest wind. I guess ever since they made the Killdeer Mountains, the One Bars have been trailing cows home against a northwest wind.
We took off from home early, “cause sometimes it don’t go as good as we plan”. Two years ago, the cows were like pushing ropes fifteen miles. It was plumb dark the last two or three miles. We must have crossed the highway a hundred times. Cows were tired, people were cold and tired, horses were played out… Even the dogs gave up and got in the horse trailer.
This year it went really well. We figure that happened because Shirley went along this time. Now, the mountain is “home” to Shirley. Jack and Hugh had the family trailing those cows home every winter from the time they were big enough to straddle a horse. You’d trail cows home from the reservation, do a sort, and take a bunch down to The Slough. Then, on Easter, when everyone else was sitting down to a big family feast and get together, they would attend church, and saddle up and trail cows home. Cold, windy, snowy, rainy, it didn’t matter. You took the cows home.
Well, back to that part about the brain.
Yesterday, as we trailed around the backside of Killdeer, we came by this one farmstead. It’s just east of town. Older, blue house surrounded by trees. Shirley let out an exclamation of, “Oh, my gosh, I remember this place!” When I asked her why, she was quick to explain.
One time, I won’t say how long ago, but it’s decades, they were trailing cows home on a cold, miserable day. Jack had four of the little girls bringing up the drag. To you city guys (John G.), the drag is the back of the herd. Anyway, as they passed this farm, Shirley says an old lady came out with hot chocolate in those old glass Coke bottles. Shirley said she could remember to this day how wonderful that chocolate tasted, and how warm that bottle was.
Now, here is the part about the brain. We got to figuring how “old” that “old lady” would have been when she brought that hot chocolate out to the girls. She would have been about twenty-five, at the most!
So, even in that wonderful organ we call the brain, the files tend to be relative.
That reminds me of a story: This guy had a habit of stopping for happy hour after work every evening. This upset his wife terribly. She went to her mother. She went to her best friend. She went to a marriage counselor. Then she…Darn it…
I’m out of room.