Memory

I like to think of myself as a pretty smart guy. I have a college degree. I like to read. I think I can hold my own in a discussion on many different matters.

I'm no Cliff Claven, but I do know all sorts of useless crap. I like to take pride in that for some strange reason. I think some of that comes from growing up with seven older siblings. I rarely had the chance to know more than the rest of the people in the room.

Now, I don't look at the facts and memories floating in my brain as a competition or a way to impress others. I just know stuff and like to tell people about it when I get a chance. My parents always wondered how far I could go if I worried as much about school as I did about learning baseball statistics.

Recently, I have wondered if they were right. A new co-worker has the habit of saying, "How do you know that?" when I come up with something she doesn't know. Or, she says, "Why do you know that?" as if I have a stranglehold on how I keep information in my head.

I don't know why this habit of hers annoys me, but it does.

When Joe, Tom and I had to run from security guards after a party sponsored by our college at a local amusement park, I didn't make a conscious decision to file that memory away. Remembering that we had to make a break for it because we snuck into the party, and they wanted to weed out the crashers after a fight broke out has not helped me in life.

We weren't involved in the fight, but we knew we would get in trouble anyway. Thanks to a bunch of beers, we got the brilliant idea to sprint towards the car, which was parked outside the park's gates. We had no idea a huge fence stood between us and freedom. We managed to make it over somehow - me with the fuzz just a step or two away - and had a great story to tell.

I could go into even more detail about that night with stories about an old girlfriend and another girl who I dated a few times, but I'm starting to scare myself with that kind of recall so I'll move on.

My brain doesn't just hold memories of stupid antics when I drank too much in college, although I bet that would be one of the bigger pieces in a pie chart representing the things I know. I also have managed to compile an impressive - well, it's impressive to me - amount of trivia surrounding movies and television shows.

A lot of people in their late 30s probably have similar knowledge, but I like to think I have a special gift in this area. The development of the Internet Movie Database has only enhanced this area of my life.

I don't know how many times I have run to the computer room during a commercial break to help me figure out where I knew some actor or actress from. Once I figure that information out, I tend to never let it go.

Just the other day, I found Meatballs on one of the movie channels. I hadn't seen it in a while, but still knew all the best lines and could sing along to the CIT song without any help.

For some reason, I ended up on IMDB.com during the movie. Did you know that the guy who played Mark Ratner in Fast Times at Ridgemont High was one of the basketball players from Camp Mohawk?

I didn't until the other day, and now I will never forget that. I'm sure I will drop it into conversation somewhere and either impress someone with my intelligence or make them worry for my well-being because I not only know it, but am willing to share that information with others.

That possibility doesn't worry me in the least. If people don't want to know that the same guy who played the guy who worked at the movie theater in Ridgemont was in Meatballs, that's their problem.

I wish the sum of all that I know could benefit me in Jeopardy or some money-making scheme. If it could, I would probably freeze like I did when I took part in a fake game show at the college where I work. I gave the wrong answer when they asked what color underwear Marty McFly wore in Back to the Future.

I don't know why I didn't say purple. I have that fact in my head. Something important like basic math must have gotten in the way that day. I hate it when that happens.

Brian Shea is probably enjoying a beer in his basement right now. You can contact him at columns@regularguycolumn.com.